Post by jessicabuck on Jul 17, 2016 15:25:41 GMT -6
There is always that one artist who believes that it isn't his art that is flawed, but the world around him that does not see his genius. He will say “oh, that just went over their head” or “the world is jealous of my vision.” These are the same men who hang around coffee shops, comparing their vampire-werewolf romance novel to Hemingway; their splashes of paint on a canvas to Salvador Dali; they will insist to you that their lyrics are deeper than anything Jim Morrison could have come up with in his heyday. To themselves, they are legends who are going to be discovered. These men and women see themselves as voices for a generation, even though the generation they claim to speak for have never heard of them.
Unfortunately, these are the same men and women who spend their days cursing Marvel Studios, The Fast and Furious Movies, The Walking Dead, the Five Nights at Freddie's games . You see, for as much as they talked about how deep they were and all of the great ideas they had, they never went beyond TALKING about their ideas, or if they did, they didn't have the aptitude to organize those ideas properly. While they were touting how deep they were, people went out there and actually created. There were people that knew what the world wanted and provided that service to them. These artists will sit in their tea dens, Vegan restaurants, and and Gluten-Free Whole Grain Foods stores, labeling these people who have found success as “sell-outs” or “untalented hacks.” Though, it is evident that they are really thinking that it should have been them. They tell themselves that if the world wasn't so ignorant, that their ideas would be the ones making all the money; had the world been as smart as they were, they would be the millionaires.
You know what? I am not going to beat around the bush, they are the Shadowloves of the world. The Handsome Half-breed. The Jet Black Razor, something, something haired something something ...or whatever repetitious descriptor you want to use for him this week. The man I have to defend my newly won Television title against stands as a living, breathing avatar for these “artists” I speak of. The funniest part of said title defense is that I am once again stepping into the ring with a man that many might think I have something in common with. On the outset, sure, they would be a tad bit correct, but he and I couldn't be anymore different. This isn't even a case of different upbringings or one thing that separates us, but a matter of he and I being on two different mindsets entirely. That shouldn't be the case now should it? We both were sex symbols of some sort and, as with last week's sacrifice to the Altar of Sexy, we were born privileged; with a chip on our shoulder. You would think there wouldn't be this disconnect when I listen to him speak, but there is.
I am sure he would call it me being simple or not able to comprehend how deep he is, but I have a better explanation.
He is Zack Snyder...
He is Stephanie Meyer...
He is Donald Trump...
All people who believe they are doing something profound because they are using big shiny words; all people who are able to fool a small group of people that there is some inner depth to the crap that is spewing out of their mouths. Yes, there will be a vocal minority who insist there is a deeper meaning, but most people will see through that. It doesn't matter how eloquently you speak, your generic in ring promo is STILL just a generic in ring promo. You can talk about yourself and your past in as many descriptors as you want, but you are still a variation of the vain male model we keep seeing in this business ...and, in the same vein, I am still the “Sex Pot” hot model diva type we have seen time and again. The difference is that I am not trying to sell myself as anything classier or sophisticated. I am not talking down to my audience. I know who and what I am and I embrace it. Being “Hot as Fuck” Jessica Buck is a whole lot of fun right now, why would I need to sell the world that I was anything else? But Shadowlove? He resents what he is at his core, so he feels the need to extremely overcompensate FOR EVERYTHING.
Why else would he be coming after the Syndicate? Why else would he be trying to interject himself into a war that involve him? A war where no side wants him? Why is he going on like Mayor Sanchez gives a shit about him? Why else would he be coming after my title?
For the same reason these “struggling artists” spend their time on message boards and Youtube comments TROLLING the people who actually manage to have success: he desperately wants what I have anyway he can get it. No, I am not just talking about my television title, but that has a lot to do with it as well. I think we should face facts: Shadowlove has been in UCI for awhile now and still seemingly has absolutely no direction. Again, I am sure he tells himself it is because regular people “don't get” his brand of sports entertainment ...and he actually wouldn't be wrong. Here is the thing though, like all “artists,” not only do people don't “get it,” they also do not care if they get it or not. They see a special snowflake like Shadowlove doing special snowflake things and they pass. But you ask “Jessica, he is a beefcake of a man, clearly that gets him some attention.” Yes, were this ANY other profession, eyes would be on him. Unfortunately, this is an industry that STILL only exclusively caters to men, so to our target demo there is absolutely nothing appealing or eye catching about Shadowlove. Suffice to say, everything about Love, from his garbled mess of promos to his shoddy win record, is boring. He has been on the outside looking in for a long time now and wants in. Compare that to me. Love me or hate me, I came in with a clear goal and knew what my appeal was; I knew my looks would get through the door. I did not complicate that nor insist you search for some hidden meaning in my ring work. Fine, I will admit that I am a simplified version of the elaborate incomprehensible picture that Shadowlove has been trying to paint for months now. He has traveled from Tokyo to Milan to Brazil to Island from LOST by walking the runway. I traveled from Tampa to Austin to Santa Monica by shaking my ass as I was sprayed with a giant hose. I am a trashier version of Shadowlove, but here is the difference: I connect. The viewing audience not only understand me, but they want to see more of me ...even if it is to boo me.
Like The Avengers, Star Wars, and the Harry Potter books before me, I have become an instant sensation. I have broke through the glass ceiling by being invited into the MOST POWERFUL ORGANIZATION IN THE WORLD RIGHT NOW (we transcend the terms faction or stable) and winning a title within three matches. Shadowlove looks at me and asks himself “why?” Sure, he tells himself and everyone around him that he is too good for The Syndicate; that he is a lone wolf who doesn't play by anyone's rules, but I think even our most basic fans understand that that is a lie. You can tell with creating this imaginary rivalry between himself and David Sanchez that, just like that “creative” troll on twitter, he is trying to get any part of that success he can. He wants to cash in on that Syndicate brand ...and who could blame the guy? We have two titles within our company and will be adding the tags VERY soon to it. But, herein lies the rub: he is being a rube about it. Shadowlove SAYS that his beef is with Mayor Sanchez, while I guarantee that Mr. Love is barely a blip on David's radar. If that were the case, you would think somebody who sees himself as highly as he does would go after Mr. Sanchez himself and his Rising Stars title. Shadowlove knows better than this though. He is smart enough to know that going after the big dog is asking to be humiliated and crushed under his fist. What does he do? He goes after what he thinks is the Syndicate's lowliest general; the most vulnerable appendage of the group. THAT is how he is going to make a name for himself. THAT is how he is going to stop from being a floater on the roster. THAT is how he is going to prove that the wrestling world just doesn't “get him.”
What he doesn't understand is that even The Syndicate's lowest soldier is MIGHTIER than any ONE person on the whole UCI roster. What part of elite does he not understand. For as nuanced as he thinks he is, he sure being incredibly superficial in his thinking towards me. He ignores the wins, the membership to an exclusive group, the holding of a title, the fact that I have been the talk of the wrestling world for four weeks ...and he sees weakness. Shadowlove looks at me and views myself as a way to finally get himself over. But also, he looks at me and doesn't get it. How can he be working so hard for MONTHS in UCI and go nowhere, but I am made instantly. Plain and simple, his hubris is mistaking strength for weakness, clear and concise for simple and dumb, and legitimacy as luck.
So, this man...
No ...that isn't right.
So, this ARTIST...
No ...still wrong.
So, THIS PRETENTIOUS PRICK wants to step into the ring, challenging for MY title that I have been tasked with bring prestige to, and he wants to use my hard-work as an anchor to steady himself in a tidal wave that has wiped him out on several occasions? Instead of bravely stepping through the front door and asking politely to face David Sanchez one on one, he wants to barge in through MY bleached backdoor just so he can get just a little piece of the Syndicate? Like a REAL artist once said “I will never be your stepping stone.” In fact, for this match, he can look at me more as The Syndicate's quality control; its standards and practices if you will. You see, he has ROYALLY pissed me off by assuming I was going to be his “in” to getting his art noticed; to thinking that it was going to be that easy. Instead, what is going to happen is that I will prove to him exactly why I am the Television Champion and why I am a hot commodity within the wrestling business right now. When that bell rings, I am going to be a sobering reminder of why I am the blockbuster franchise that people pay good money to see and why he is always going to be left out in the cold, complaining how the world doesn't see his genius. Most importantly, he will leave this match being reminded why he should NEVER try to leech off ANY member of the Syndicate for his own gain; why he is never going to be of any consequence or threat to any of us.
All of that came to me just by staring down at my Television that I had been wearing proudly around my waist since winning it. I spent hours just looking at myself naked in the mirror wearing ONLY that title. I didn't know that I could make any improvements to that perfection but adding the Television made me even more desirable to myself. After months of being floated between Wentworth and Dustin Beaver, the Television title was finally right where it needed to be and where it was going to stay. The thing is that this title needed me; television in general needed someone like me. This goes beyond the Syndicate needing a representative to hold every title, but more that the Syndicate brings importance to every championship we claim. Remember, UCI isn't that old and thus concepts like prestige and legacy are not concrete as of yet. I can, without a shadow of a doubt, state that until I beat Wentworth that the Television title had absolutely no legacy whatsoever. The point of the title is that the person holding it should not only be ready to defend during every television episode a week, but would be someone who could draw in the television ratings. None of the men who came before fit either bill, and the man challenging me this week has proven that he has no crossover appeal. This title isn't like the Rising Stars title who has had worthy champions throughout its short history. It is up to me to lift up the title as I myself rise up the ranks in UCI. It is my responsibility to The Syndicate, to UCI, to the television stations that air Overload, to the future history of the title to set the standard for this belt. It has found a comfortable place at or around my vagina and I guarantee you that it doesn't want to leave there.
“Are you ready yet?” Syxx asked as she opened the door to my dressing room. Once again, she caught me staring lovingly down at the title as hung off of my body. It was the last puzzle piece. This time around I was wearing clothes. In fact, I was wearing more attire than usual. I did fight kicking and screaming until Sanchez and Wright convinced me that a skirt, blouse and matching sports coat wouldn't hurt to wear to a big meeting. I was assured that I could show as much cleavage as possible.
From what Syxx told me, TV executives like the allusion of professionalism, but they were always sold by the sub-text of sex.
“Yeah, I was just ...” I stopped myself from telling her I was ready for my meeting with a big cable executive to guarantee my face be featured all over a certain entertainment Network's fall material. I don't even know why I was going to confirm that with her because I was always ready to charm; to sell myself and to make some old man believe that if he gave me what I want,ed I would give him what he wanted. Jessica Buck sold dreams just as much as she sold sex. That wasn't my concern. Once again, I was thinking of Shadowlove. There was something about the way he held himself that was of offense to me. “Syxx?”
“Yeah?” My manager answered, holding the door open very impatiently.
“Before you were this hot shot agent, you were a screen writer, right?” I asked while turning my full attention to her.
“I wasn't a very successful one, but yes. I was actually quite idealistic.”
“What finally made you give up? How did you go from being this creative free thinker into something ruthless?”
She closed the door behind her and thought for a moment. Finally, the young Jewish manager sighed to myself. “It wasn't easy because the media pumped me so full of this 'anyone can be the next Spielberg' propaganda. I guess it took someone showing me that the world didn't want ideas, it wanted trash and by fighting that system, I was destined to always lose. I had a choice: keep my artistic integrity or make shit loads of money.”
“Obviously, you made the right decision.” I smiled at her as briefly stared back down at my property; at the object that I was going to make valuable week by week by week.
“I do blow with Zach Effron on a regular basis, what do you think?” Syxx opened the door again, hinting at me that we were running late.
“Do you mind if I make an observation?”
“If it gets you out the door faster, sure.”
“People like you used to be, as well as people like Shadowlove, believe that they are the good guys because they stand outside the system; because they have ideas different than the system. They automatically think because they stand against the Zeitgeist, that means their ideas and perception are right. In turn, they believe their idealism is a good thing because they stand apart from the rest of the world. However, the truth is that standing against the natural order just so one can be a “special little butterfly,” or even challenging that natural order just for attention is an evil that should be crushed. If I allow someone like Shadowlove to gestate anywhere near my title, he will spawn more like him that believe the world should favor individuality.”
“The crush him. Believe me, in hindsight, it isn't a very happy existence. Also, you are right. They are practically hippies, they will multiply if you let them.” Syxx added to my observation. “Now get that tight ass out the door.”
I smiled back at her sarcastically. “As you wish, dear.”
Unfortunately, these are the same men and women who spend their days cursing Marvel Studios, The Fast and Furious Movies, The Walking Dead, the Five Nights at Freddie's games . You see, for as much as they talked about how deep they were and all of the great ideas they had, they never went beyond TALKING about their ideas, or if they did, they didn't have the aptitude to organize those ideas properly. While they were touting how deep they were, people went out there and actually created. There were people that knew what the world wanted and provided that service to them. These artists will sit in their tea dens, Vegan restaurants, and and Gluten-Free Whole Grain Foods stores, labeling these people who have found success as “sell-outs” or “untalented hacks.” Though, it is evident that they are really thinking that it should have been them. They tell themselves that if the world wasn't so ignorant, that their ideas would be the ones making all the money; had the world been as smart as they were, they would be the millionaires.
You know what? I am not going to beat around the bush, they are the Shadowloves of the world. The Handsome Half-breed. The Jet Black Razor, something, something haired something something ...or whatever repetitious descriptor you want to use for him this week. The man I have to defend my newly won Television title against stands as a living, breathing avatar for these “artists” I speak of. The funniest part of said title defense is that I am once again stepping into the ring with a man that many might think I have something in common with. On the outset, sure, they would be a tad bit correct, but he and I couldn't be anymore different. This isn't even a case of different upbringings or one thing that separates us, but a matter of he and I being on two different mindsets entirely. That shouldn't be the case now should it? We both were sex symbols of some sort and, as with last week's sacrifice to the Altar of Sexy, we were born privileged; with a chip on our shoulder. You would think there wouldn't be this disconnect when I listen to him speak, but there is.
I am sure he would call it me being simple or not able to comprehend how deep he is, but I have a better explanation.
He is Zack Snyder...
He is Stephanie Meyer...
He is Donald Trump...
All people who believe they are doing something profound because they are using big shiny words; all people who are able to fool a small group of people that there is some inner depth to the crap that is spewing out of their mouths. Yes, there will be a vocal minority who insist there is a deeper meaning, but most people will see through that. It doesn't matter how eloquently you speak, your generic in ring promo is STILL just a generic in ring promo. You can talk about yourself and your past in as many descriptors as you want, but you are still a variation of the vain male model we keep seeing in this business ...and, in the same vein, I am still the “Sex Pot” hot model diva type we have seen time and again. The difference is that I am not trying to sell myself as anything classier or sophisticated. I am not talking down to my audience. I know who and what I am and I embrace it. Being “Hot as Fuck” Jessica Buck is a whole lot of fun right now, why would I need to sell the world that I was anything else? But Shadowlove? He resents what he is at his core, so he feels the need to extremely overcompensate FOR EVERYTHING.
Why else would he be coming after the Syndicate? Why else would he be trying to interject himself into a war that involve him? A war where no side wants him? Why is he going on like Mayor Sanchez gives a shit about him? Why else would he be coming after my title?
For the same reason these “struggling artists” spend their time on message boards and Youtube comments TROLLING the people who actually manage to have success: he desperately wants what I have anyway he can get it. No, I am not just talking about my television title, but that has a lot to do with it as well. I think we should face facts: Shadowlove has been in UCI for awhile now and still seemingly has absolutely no direction. Again, I am sure he tells himself it is because regular people “don't get” his brand of sports entertainment ...and he actually wouldn't be wrong. Here is the thing though, like all “artists,” not only do people don't “get it,” they also do not care if they get it or not. They see a special snowflake like Shadowlove doing special snowflake things and they pass. But you ask “Jessica, he is a beefcake of a man, clearly that gets him some attention.” Yes, were this ANY other profession, eyes would be on him. Unfortunately, this is an industry that STILL only exclusively caters to men, so to our target demo there is absolutely nothing appealing or eye catching about Shadowlove. Suffice to say, everything about Love, from his garbled mess of promos to his shoddy win record, is boring. He has been on the outside looking in for a long time now and wants in. Compare that to me. Love me or hate me, I came in with a clear goal and knew what my appeal was; I knew my looks would get through the door. I did not complicate that nor insist you search for some hidden meaning in my ring work. Fine, I will admit that I am a simplified version of the elaborate incomprehensible picture that Shadowlove has been trying to paint for months now. He has traveled from Tokyo to Milan to Brazil to Island from LOST by walking the runway. I traveled from Tampa to Austin to Santa Monica by shaking my ass as I was sprayed with a giant hose. I am a trashier version of Shadowlove, but here is the difference: I connect. The viewing audience not only understand me, but they want to see more of me ...even if it is to boo me.
Like The Avengers, Star Wars, and the Harry Potter books before me, I have become an instant sensation. I have broke through the glass ceiling by being invited into the MOST POWERFUL ORGANIZATION IN THE WORLD RIGHT NOW (we transcend the terms faction or stable) and winning a title within three matches. Shadowlove looks at me and asks himself “why?” Sure, he tells himself and everyone around him that he is too good for The Syndicate; that he is a lone wolf who doesn't play by anyone's rules, but I think even our most basic fans understand that that is a lie. You can tell with creating this imaginary rivalry between himself and David Sanchez that, just like that “creative” troll on twitter, he is trying to get any part of that success he can. He wants to cash in on that Syndicate brand ...and who could blame the guy? We have two titles within our company and will be adding the tags VERY soon to it. But, herein lies the rub: he is being a rube about it. Shadowlove SAYS that his beef is with Mayor Sanchez, while I guarantee that Mr. Love is barely a blip on David's radar. If that were the case, you would think somebody who sees himself as highly as he does would go after Mr. Sanchez himself and his Rising Stars title. Shadowlove knows better than this though. He is smart enough to know that going after the big dog is asking to be humiliated and crushed under his fist. What does he do? He goes after what he thinks is the Syndicate's lowliest general; the most vulnerable appendage of the group. THAT is how he is going to make a name for himself. THAT is how he is going to stop from being a floater on the roster. THAT is how he is going to prove that the wrestling world just doesn't “get him.”
What he doesn't understand is that even The Syndicate's lowest soldier is MIGHTIER than any ONE person on the whole UCI roster. What part of elite does he not understand. For as nuanced as he thinks he is, he sure being incredibly superficial in his thinking towards me. He ignores the wins, the membership to an exclusive group, the holding of a title, the fact that I have been the talk of the wrestling world for four weeks ...and he sees weakness. Shadowlove looks at me and views myself as a way to finally get himself over. But also, he looks at me and doesn't get it. How can he be working so hard for MONTHS in UCI and go nowhere, but I am made instantly. Plain and simple, his hubris is mistaking strength for weakness, clear and concise for simple and dumb, and legitimacy as luck.
So, this man...
No ...that isn't right.
So, this ARTIST...
No ...still wrong.
So, THIS PRETENTIOUS PRICK wants to step into the ring, challenging for MY title that I have been tasked with bring prestige to, and he wants to use my hard-work as an anchor to steady himself in a tidal wave that has wiped him out on several occasions? Instead of bravely stepping through the front door and asking politely to face David Sanchez one on one, he wants to barge in through MY bleached backdoor just so he can get just a little piece of the Syndicate? Like a REAL artist once said “I will never be your stepping stone.” In fact, for this match, he can look at me more as The Syndicate's quality control; its standards and practices if you will. You see, he has ROYALLY pissed me off by assuming I was going to be his “in” to getting his art noticed; to thinking that it was going to be that easy. Instead, what is going to happen is that I will prove to him exactly why I am the Television Champion and why I am a hot commodity within the wrestling business right now. When that bell rings, I am going to be a sobering reminder of why I am the blockbuster franchise that people pay good money to see and why he is always going to be left out in the cold, complaining how the world doesn't see his genius. Most importantly, he will leave this match being reminded why he should NEVER try to leech off ANY member of the Syndicate for his own gain; why he is never going to be of any consequence or threat to any of us.
All of that came to me just by staring down at my Television that I had been wearing proudly around my waist since winning it. I spent hours just looking at myself naked in the mirror wearing ONLY that title. I didn't know that I could make any improvements to that perfection but adding the Television made me even more desirable to myself. After months of being floated between Wentworth and Dustin Beaver, the Television title was finally right where it needed to be and where it was going to stay. The thing is that this title needed me; television in general needed someone like me. This goes beyond the Syndicate needing a representative to hold every title, but more that the Syndicate brings importance to every championship we claim. Remember, UCI isn't that old and thus concepts like prestige and legacy are not concrete as of yet. I can, without a shadow of a doubt, state that until I beat Wentworth that the Television title had absolutely no legacy whatsoever. The point of the title is that the person holding it should not only be ready to defend during every television episode a week, but would be someone who could draw in the television ratings. None of the men who came before fit either bill, and the man challenging me this week has proven that he has no crossover appeal. This title isn't like the Rising Stars title who has had worthy champions throughout its short history. It is up to me to lift up the title as I myself rise up the ranks in UCI. It is my responsibility to The Syndicate, to UCI, to the television stations that air Overload, to the future history of the title to set the standard for this belt. It has found a comfortable place at or around my vagina and I guarantee you that it doesn't want to leave there.
“Are you ready yet?” Syxx asked as she opened the door to my dressing room. Once again, she caught me staring lovingly down at the title as hung off of my body. It was the last puzzle piece. This time around I was wearing clothes. In fact, I was wearing more attire than usual. I did fight kicking and screaming until Sanchez and Wright convinced me that a skirt, blouse and matching sports coat wouldn't hurt to wear to a big meeting. I was assured that I could show as much cleavage as possible.
From what Syxx told me, TV executives like the allusion of professionalism, but they were always sold by the sub-text of sex.
“Yeah, I was just ...” I stopped myself from telling her I was ready for my meeting with a big cable executive to guarantee my face be featured all over a certain entertainment Network's fall material. I don't even know why I was going to confirm that with her because I was always ready to charm; to sell myself and to make some old man believe that if he gave me what I want,ed I would give him what he wanted. Jessica Buck sold dreams just as much as she sold sex. That wasn't my concern. Once again, I was thinking of Shadowlove. There was something about the way he held himself that was of offense to me. “Syxx?”
“Yeah?” My manager answered, holding the door open very impatiently.
“Before you were this hot shot agent, you were a screen writer, right?” I asked while turning my full attention to her.
“I wasn't a very successful one, but yes. I was actually quite idealistic.”
“What finally made you give up? How did you go from being this creative free thinker into something ruthless?”
She closed the door behind her and thought for a moment. Finally, the young Jewish manager sighed to myself. “It wasn't easy because the media pumped me so full of this 'anyone can be the next Spielberg' propaganda. I guess it took someone showing me that the world didn't want ideas, it wanted trash and by fighting that system, I was destined to always lose. I had a choice: keep my artistic integrity or make shit loads of money.”
“Obviously, you made the right decision.” I smiled at her as briefly stared back down at my property; at the object that I was going to make valuable week by week by week.
“I do blow with Zach Effron on a regular basis, what do you think?” Syxx opened the door again, hinting at me that we were running late.
“Do you mind if I make an observation?”
“If it gets you out the door faster, sure.”
“People like you used to be, as well as people like Shadowlove, believe that they are the good guys because they stand outside the system; because they have ideas different than the system. They automatically think because they stand against the Zeitgeist, that means their ideas and perception are right. In turn, they believe their idealism is a good thing because they stand apart from the rest of the world. However, the truth is that standing against the natural order just so one can be a “special little butterfly,” or even challenging that natural order just for attention is an evil that should be crushed. If I allow someone like Shadowlove to gestate anywhere near my title, he will spawn more like him that believe the world should favor individuality.”
“The crush him. Believe me, in hindsight, it isn't a very happy existence. Also, you are right. They are practically hippies, they will multiply if you let them.” Syxx added to my observation. “Now get that tight ass out the door.”
I smiled back at her sarcastically. “As you wish, dear.”
