Post by Amy Jo Smyth on May 28, 2017 20:59:52 GMT
I'll be okay
'Cause when I back away
I'm gonna keep the handle of your gun in sight
'Cause when I back away
I'm gonna keep the handle of your gun in sight
___________________________
Sometimes you just don’t know what happened.
Shit just doesn’t make any kind of sense.
This is one of those times. The first round in the Super Falcon Cup tournament was just… A rarity for me. I can’t even begin to explain the events of that night, that match. You can call go back and watch it and maybe give me a little education on the matter.
Whatever the case, and whatever happened last time, I have moved into the second round. Onwards and upwards, no reason to linger on the past. Save for the fact that I’m still on my guest to get back to the top in Guerreros of Lucha. Call it a second chance, call it some kind of gift from the Gods of Lucha, call it dumb fucking luck, but I’ve been given an opportunity to keep at it.
The fight is still alive. The intention is to keep that fight alive until the very last round. Whoever else gets there, well, that’s a bridge to cross when I come to it but I suspect that we’ll be seeing a rematch of last month’s main event. Shit, did we ever give GoL a main event. Mexico got rocked.
Anyway, it’s time to do it again.
No main event this time, no. That’s reserved for The Reyes de Reyes Title and Mr. Miles - a man and a title I’d like to get back to at some point. And this tournament is exactly the place to do just that. In fact, I’m pretty low on the card. No matter where the match is on the card or where in the world it is or what the name of the show is, I’m gonna put on a good, god damn show. That’s what the L.A.W. Champion does. That’s what a former Champion in G.o.L. does. That’s what a warrior does and baby, I’m all those things.
After last week, against Mr. Tillman, that should be evident. Neither of us would give up, even after hit after hit, pinfall after pinfall. In the end, it came down to a draw - it came down to a double pinfall. The refusal to lose in me is strong, even more so than it has ever been. I’m now a world champion, the champion of the place I came here representing and that means I’ve gotta be better than the best I’ve ever been.
No matter who I face.
Even that big old guy with a menacing name like Chris Crippler.
Y'all think he's gonna try to cripple me?
___________________________
In the Continuing Adventures of Our Hero...
◀◀ Be Kind, Rewind
He’s once against up against my ear. “Leviticus… The rules for relationships!”
Leviticus is the most notorious passage in the bible - all versions of the bible - and it is possibly the worst and most disgraceful of all. For all the love Jesus and his followers preach to the masses, Leviticus is just a direct contradiction to all of it and considering it is a book of supposed laws directing the actions and ways of living for a truly holy person in the holy land. For all those rules, it never once abides by the preaching of Jesus and askms for a person to love another. It stands alone, apart from everything else, and in complete opposition of God’s love. According to that book, you can only have God’s love if you follow the rules, these ridiculous rules written by man to subjugate people and stay in power.
It speaks of ritual sacrifices to God, banishing those with disabilities as it is seen that those with such physical abnormalities have defects of the spirit and soul, what to eat and not to eat, how women should be treated during their menstrual cycles and after childbirth, what to plant when and where and how long it takes a fruit tree to become holy, what a person can and cannot do with his or own body, and of course, the most notorious of them all: the treatment of homosexuality and homosexual acts.
Thou shalt not kill.
Yet it asks for a follower to kill another.
Leviticus is little more than proof of how antiquated, ignorant, and controlling the bible really is. It calls for the death of people of all kinds, who do all kinds of things - mediums, adulterous men and women, couples who have sex while on the woman is on her period, the disabled, children who speak ill of their parents, and those who eat meat after three days.
If one really studies the bible, especially the rules presented in Leviticus, they’ll come to realize that a great majority of these so-called holy laws supposedly passed down by God were nothing more than rules for survival and societal norms. God says Don’t have sex with your sister or God will smite you. No, don’t have sex with your sister because, well, aside from it being nasty, it will produce some genetically fucked up offspring. [/i]Don’t eat meat after three days or it is not pure in the eyes of the Lord[/i]. No, don’t eat meat after three days because it has gone bad and it will probably kill you or the least make you very sick because of the bacteria growing in or on it. Don’t associate with a man who has discharge for he is unclean and you should be cleansed should you touch him. No, discharge spreads disease so in order to prevent infection and possible extermination of your community, steer clear of sick people and wash your damn hands. Do not eat this animal, for it is unclean. No, don’t eat this thing because it’s not edible, unsavory, and-or carries disease, poison, or is completely indigestible by the human system.
Science solved a lot of these unholy mysteries for us.
Religion and the bible, especially, gave an explanation to a lot of things that were beyond human knowledge at the time. It was easy to say, God did that. We have moved beyond this. Our knowledge of how the world works and why things are the way they are. If we were still living the way the bible instructs, we would still be roaming the desert on camels, living in stone huts, drawing water from wheels, with women dying in childbirth and a small cut killing an otherwise perfectly healthy person. The people, the same people who cherry pick the bible to justify their hatred don’t realize this.
Instead of being a manual for healthy living using the threat of eternal damnation to keep y’all in line, it’s used to justify pure, unfettered hatred. It gives men and women the clearance to ridicule, hurt, deny, disobey Jesus’ commands to love thy neighbor as thyself and to treat foreigners as they would a native born man.
Yet Griffin disavows that part of the rules. He has chosen what he likes and uses it as he likes. More likely, he’s never even read the bible in full and just spouting out gross misrepresentations and interpretations of passages that support someone’s really fucked up idea of the world and agenda. Things have been taken out of context and have no meaning behind it, save for the one that was told to him.
Just like what he was told about the science that insists non-whites are somehow inferior to Anglo-Saxons by some guy on the internet who claims to have a Ph.D. in history or biology. Here’s the thing, just like the bible can be interrupted as a person wishes, so can certain aspects of science. Then again, a good scientist knows that theories need testing, proof, and peer review, not just a book written by a person with ‘Dr’ in front of his or her name.
“Don’t you fucking dare quote that shit to me,” I shout back, pointing a finger at him. “Because you’re in direct violation of it yourself.”
Growing up, from birth until about the age of fifteen, the bible was used to teach me to hate others and eventually hate myself. It dictated a lot of what I did, felt, and thought. That applied to many others, as well. My father believed so much in his precious Good Book and everything it had to say that he denied his only daughter and when he found out that she wanted to lie with a woman in the way that she should want to lie with a man, he was ready to ship her off to conversion camp. He had no qualms in the fact that his daughter would be tortured and broken down mentally and possibly physically assaulted, possibly even electrocuted, in the hopes that it would cure her.
It did not bother him that I might kill myself having faced such trauma, having to deny my true self and live a lie, and of course, be with a person that I could never love in the right way. A book, a book of fucking fairy tales was going to decide my future, whether I lived or died, and if I did live, how I would live and who I would love. A book of ghost stories written by man was more important to him than his own flesh and blood and her happiness.
To this day, I still cannot fully forgive him.
And I cannot go through it again.
“You are perfection,” he says. “Purity. A specimen of Aryan perfection. Exactly what God needs his Earthly kingdom to populated with.” He stands. “But you threw it all away. You betrayed your people. You have betrayed your family, your country… You - you are a race betrayer!”
“I never betrayed my country,” I quickly fire back. “I served my country and I'm serving it again. I almost died for my country!”
“That doesn't excuse what you're doing, how you live,” he says.
“I'm free to live my life however I so choose, just like you,” I say. “Minus the terrorist shit.”
He springs forward. “I am not a terrorist,” he shouts. “Those camel fucking turban wearing hindi-bindis are.”
“Wow, I don't even know where to start with all that,” I say, leaning back. “That's a lot of stupidity crammed into one sentence and I don't have time to unpack that all.”
“You crybaby liberal feminists are always blaming us, talking about our privilege - what even is privilege? I'm not privileged. I don't have anything. The Pakis came in and took our houses, living on my tax dollars, with that welfare pension shit. I don't get that. They gave all the good jobs to the Polacks so can't even get a job. Then - then, because they gotta fill that minority quota, they give all the damn university spots and help to queers and blacks and dykes. I can't pray or have my church because it might offend some Muslim or Jew but they have their huge bloody golden domes that dirty up my sky and ring their damn bells all night,” he rants. “But I'm the fucking terrorist?”
“Yes.”
“I'm a damn freedom fighter, a patriot… I'm protecting my way of life, my future, my country. This is my country,” he continues.
“You sound like a fucking crybaby,” I say. “Grow up.”
“Grow up? Grow up?” he asks sarcastically. “I have grown up. I've grown into a man, a soldier… Into exactly what my country and my God needs me to be. I'm evolved while the rest of the world is just - just going straight to hell!”
“Listen, you little shit,” I start. “You wanna know what being a good citizen means… A good God fearing evolved man means, what it is? It means loving and respecting your neighbor, no matter where they're from or who they love or what religion they follow. It means taking up arms when true evil rises and being ready to die for those neighbors, for those who are oppressed and injured and when injustice prevails. It means protecting the innocent and giving to the poor and helping your fellow, regardless of his skin color.”
I stand, get in his face, knowing this won't end well for me.
“It means being a respectful, kind human being who follows the rules but isn't afraid to step up and face down tyranny,” I say. “It's following the commandments and the commandments say, thou shalt not kill!”
He takes hold of my head and shoves me back into the chair. “You don't get to speak to me like that,” he yells. “Your kind doesn't get to speak to me like that, ever!”
It takes a long time for me to get my senses back after the blinding hit but once I do, I'm back at it, bloodied nose and all. “Do you even know the teachings of Jesus? Or is it just all about the child-brides, mass murders, rape, and eternal hellfire for you?” I ask. “You're a fucked up person and if God and heaven were real, he wouldn't even let you so much as look at the gates before sending you to be anal fucked by barbed wire all day and night.”
“I will inherit his kingdom, for I am his chosen,” he screams while flexing his arms and chest and tensing up the rest of body. Gnashing teeth. There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth, when ye shall see Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and all the prophets, in the kingdom of God, and you yourselves thrust out. He grabs me by the throat, holds me in place. “I should rip out your fucking throat.”
He throws me to the floor. Unprepared and unable to brace my fall, I land with a thud on my chest and chin. “Ow,” I grunt.
“Your father must be disgusted by you,” he says. “He should have beaten you. Beaten the dyke outta you. Gotten a man to rape you so that you know how a woman is supposed to act.”
That enrages me. I roll over to back and sit up. “You should be raped in the skull,” I shout and take a wild swing at his dick. He manages to move out of the way suddenly and avoid taking the hit. His fury is unmistakable. I’m lifted to my feet by the hair - my poor, poor hair - and brought to my feet. He pulls back by head, licks my face. “The woman is a weaker vessel, spiritually, mentally, physically. She is the one that had Adam thrown out of Eden. It’s through a man that she finds strength, protection. For that, she serves him. That is her place. You are a white woman, a concubine... You are to help spread his seed.”
He finally releases my hair and focuses again on my neck. Thankfully he doesn’t squeeze too hard but it’s enough to keep me under control, like a harnessed animal.
“But you’re not a woman. Dykes aren’t women. They aren’t white women either,” he says then leans in closely. “You’re not - not. They are diseases that need to be cured and if they won’t be cured, they should be killed,” he bemoans. “But, really - really, I know how it works. You all want a man. A man is exactly what you want and - and need. You need a good man to set you right. But you won’t let them help you - men like me can help you be straight… Feminist bullshit has turned me into some kind of villain, not good enough.”
I’m thrown to the floor.
“The cucks - cucks get all the women. They aren’t real men. I’m a real man,” he says, slamming his fist against his chest. “I’m of pure blood, genetically perfect - look at me. Look at me! I’m everything you should want.”
I’m lifted to sitting by the hair.
“You don’t - you’d rather be with some kind of mongreloid or a - or a damn woman,” he says. “That’s why you can’t find your true place in God’s kingdom, why you aren’t serving a man and God. The right man hasn’t come and fucked you right.”
“Lemme guess,” I sputter. “You’re the right man…”
He slaps me across the face. “I wouldn’t infect my body with your filth,” he quickly rebukes. “Not being so close to my death.”
There’s that small favor and I could not be happier for it. Even though rape is highly publicized, performed, and even commanded by God all throughout the bible. Soldiers for God and Israel, when going to war to conquer another land, are often instructed to kill the men of their enemies, ravish virgins and murder non-virgins, and enslave everyone left. There is even a passage, or rule, in this case, about a woman having to marry her rapist and her rapist having to pay money to her father for the marriage. If a woman is raped, he and her rapist shall be put to death by stoning because she did not call out for help.
God loves himself some rape.
On top of murder and enslavement.
Griffin steps away, picks up the bible. He pushes me down to the floor again. He opens up the book of fairy tales and lays it across my face. “I can’t fucking look at you,” he growls. “I can’t look at such a - such depravity and - and…” he kicks me in the ribs. “You’re a traitor and traitors shall be put to death.”
I try to remove the book from my face but I’m kicked again.
“You fucking leave that there,” he demands. “Read it. Learn it! Realize there is still time to save yourself.”
At fourteen years old, I walked to the front of my father’s church with everyone I had known since birth watching me. The tub had been set up, filled up with luke-warm water, he stood there, hip deep in the water still wearing his suit. His hand took mine as he helped into the water and beamed with pride. His only daughter had accepted Jesus Christ as her lord and savior, just as he had been waiting for since her conception. Even with his poking and insistence, I had had my doubts and took my time.
I was only doing this to make so many other people happy, the most important being my father.
He asked me if I had accepted Jesus as my savior. I lied, said yes. He said the prayer and dunked me into the water. It was cold and shocking, woke me up to so much more than I could imagine. A fourteen year old girl had just made a huge decision. While under the water, which was for less than two seconds, I decided that I would never again do something that made me unhappy to make someone else happy. And that person couldn’t deal with that, then I wouldn’t and didn’t need them in my life.
My head popped up from surface to applause. I was quickly ushered away to the corner, where I stood, shivering, watching the rest of the baptism. They were saved and I was supposedly saved.
I still need saving.
But no one here is going to save me but myself in this moment.
...To Be Continued…
Suffice to say, there isn’t much that I know about the man known as Chris Crippler. In all the tournaments and rumbles that I’ve taken part in over the past year, all the competitors I’ve come across on Twitter or in backstage antics, or just out and about in the world, Mr. Cripple is not one of them. However, we run into a case of guilt of association.
It would seem that Mr. Crippler faced my friend, my best friend and tag team partner, in a rumble to determine the number one contender to the Reyes de Reyes title… And she eliminated him. My redheaded friend threw his ass out that ring and won the whole shabang. Of course, little old me, I couldn’t be prouder of her. There’s also last month, when he faced another one of my friends, Ms. Sam Tolson. He defeated her, sadly.
It pays to have friends.
Don’t fool yourself and think that I haven’t talked to those women and gotten some insider information about you, Mr. Double C. Don’t fool yourself and think I haven’t wandered on over to that placed known as Skyfire and done some trolling. Trust me, I have. Plane rides are long, lonely, and boring, especially when your wife is sleeping or trapped in a book, so you’ve got to find something to kill all that time. Kill that time by getting yourself that much better, by educating yourself on your opponent.
And, boy-oh-boy I have.
My opponent and I have a lot in common. A LOT.
He’s Skyfire Champion. He’s damn deadset on doing this for his home and repping the shit out of it. He’s here for the same reason, well, the same reason all of us here, but some of us don’t have the same past behind that reason. You see, Mr. C and I both have a chance to get ahold of that Reyes title and well, blow a big fat raspberry because we blew it. At least I got so far as facing the champion, getting an actual title shot. Shit, though, let me tell you something.
Once you get that close, you want it even more and you’ll go even harder to get it.
Christopher has a lot to prove, a lot to uphold, a lot on his shoulders, a lot riding on this line. Given all that, this is going to be a hell of a match. He’s also going to give me a hell of fight. But where the fuck would we be if the two of us weren’t going to try and tear the other apart. Given all that’s going on, I know that this isn’t gonna be a cakewalk and that Mr. Crippler is going to give me a fight.
I’m ready. Come and get me and big boy.
Won’t be enough, though. I full intend to win in the Quarterfinals and defeat you, Mr. Crippler. My craving for another shot at the title is a lot stronger than yours. It’s going to carry me over and above you, bring you down. Think for a second, Crippler… There’s a reason that Roxi is my tag team partner. It’s because we’re both incredibly talented wrestlers. It’s because we have the same mindset. It’s because we’re almost one in the same. It’s because, shit, we’re both fucking winners.
I’m going to win again.
Last time may have been a draw, but there will be no draw here. There’s going to be a clear cut winner and her name is Amy Jo. You will be denied once again. You can go back to Skyfire and maybe try again some other time. Don’t let what I did with Tillson fool you and don’t think that just because you defeated Tolson that gives you some kind of leg up. It don’t.
I’m far from afraid. I’m far from worried. In fact, I’m confident, ready, and feeling stronger than ever.
Skyfire won’t be too hard you for being eliminated, not by such a competitor like me. No harm in it. You’ll go back, defend your title, do whatever it is you do over there in Syfire, and be a little bit richer for it. Don’t hold too much of a grudge, though. That’ll just drag you down and offer no help in your future endeavors. If i won’t linger on my past, you shouldn’t either.
Onwards and upwards, Mr. Crippler.
Just not in G.o.L., because that belongs to me.
I’ll see you then, my new friend.