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Macsh
Entertainment
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Pro wrestling Is actually cool; worth paying to see
_ M argaret A dams ___________
Page Editor
It's impossible to put
into words how crazy
Tuesday nights in St. John's
at Sandy Barr's Flea Market
really are; Tuesdays are
Pro Wrestling Night! Every
Tuesday, a two hour pro
wrestling event takes place
in their dirty warehouse
also known as The St. Johns
Sports Arena.
During the day, the
warehouse serves only as
a flea market specializing
in used mattresses. You
can also find chandeliers,
individual markers and
hubcaps. Seating is not
a problem and there are
restaurant-style chairs lined
up around the ring.
It costs $8 to get in, and
steep as that is, it is well
worth the cost, plus it's
family friendly so you can
take your baby brother.
Lil* Nasty Boy gets nasty on
opponent William Bonnie. Bonnie
limped around most of the match
due to a leg injury brought on
by Nasty who entered the ring
wearing a pink sparkly boa.
Photo courtesy of Robin Adams
The wrestlers totally
get into it. Cedric was
first, sporting "custom "
sunglasses and a steaming
bald head. He was a
flaming whiner. His tag
team partner, Lil' Nasty Boy,
is a midget with a di-hawk.
Nasty got real mad at the ref
and claimed his opponent
was cheating every five-
and-a-half seconds. Their
team wore black tights
with silver piping and
their names embroidered
down the side. Cedric
fought some big guy named
Vargus with a red ponytail
who was unexceptional and
forgettable but won.
Another tag team wore *
matching American flag
button ups, Wranglers,
cowboy hats and modified
cowboy boots. One known
as "Outlaw" had his
wrestling name tattooed on
his stomach with flaming
letters and his hair style
was a bleached undercut.
His partner William
Bonnie limped around and
covered his face with a
handkerchief.
Dr. Kliever shaves his
pits and had his green
singlet pulled down so
it looked like shorts. He
wore black gloves, sported
a Mohawk, and was
super into himself. He's
apparently the boss and
had one of those wrestling
champ belts. Luckily Dr.
Kliever got to keep the belt
after pinning his opponent.
He fought this weird,
quiet guy named Exile.
He was the biggest of all
of them; he wore a green
singlet and black samurai
pants. Although he had a
Superman tattoo, he lost
and then he gave a speech
about "next time" when,
apparently, he’s going to be
the champ.
The Tag Team champs
were the cowboys. They
were the oldest of the crew
and had balding heads and
ponytails. Lone Star wore
a Speedo with his name on
the back and a leather vest.
His partner, Tex Thompson,
had his name sewn on the
bottom of his tights. You
can only hope they'll be
wrestling on the night you
show up, but there are more
wrestlers than you'll see on
Dr. Kliever is put in a difficult
position by his opponent. Despite
these rough times, Kliever came
out on top and got to keep his
champions belt.
Photo courtesy of Robin Adams
a single night, they rotate
from week to week, so you
won't necessarily see the
same guys I did.
The crowd at Sandy
Barr's Flea Market is really
bizarre. There were no more
than ten people, composed
mostly of women and two
men: one bailed halfway
through, and one was
napping. On average, about
12-25 people show up. The
crew all seemed to be either
regulars or family members
Lone Star poses with the sought after tag team champion belt, which
he won with his partner Tex Thompson. Matches are held every
Tuesday night at the St. Johns Sports Arena.
Photo courtesy of Robin Adams
and they all knew who
to heckle. One lady (look
for her: glasses, curly hair,
Seahawks jacket, 4 ’10", can't
miss her) hollered "GAR-Y
COLE-MAN" and "BALD
HEADED GEEK" over and
over at Cedric (who was
definitely not psyched on
this.)
The whole thing is an
experience you would
have to be lame to pass up.
Yeah, it's weird and sort of
confusing, but sometimes
Tuesday nights are slow
and West Linn doesn't
have anything to offer as
far as pro-wrestling goes.
Mapquest this: 7219 N
Leavitt Ave, Portland, OR,
97203. Doors open at 7 p.m.
(Not so sure why.) and bell
is at 8 p.m. Go in through
the back door, through all
the U-Haul trucks in th ej^
chain-linked fence and
your ticket from "DJ Marr."
Also, Sandy Barr is working
MySpace so check his page
at www.myspace.com/
Sandy_Barr. If you have any
other questions, call them
at (503) 283-0124. Get out of
your hood and open your
eyes already.
Well pop your culture! Pointless movie sequels
■ J ohn C ampbell & M ìke G orgone
Columnists
If you've stumbled
across this column while
meandering through our
humble publication then
your eye has probably been
caught by one of two things,
either the picture of the
devilishly handsome men
above or just the title alone.
Or maybe you're just reading
through the whole paper and
we just happened to be in it.
The truth is we're the print
equivalent of a buddy cop
movie. Campbell walks the
straight and narrow, while
Gorgone's the loose cannon
and together we're cleaning
up the streets of pop culture.
We all have our favorite
blockbusters, "The Lion King,"
"Jaws" and "Caddyshack" but
in the world of film there is no
bigger travesty than a great
movie dragged through the
mud for a pointless sequel.
Hollywood can't seem to
realize that sometimes one is
enough. Sure there's the draw
of the all-powerful dollar, but
is that extra few million really
worth the risk of a bunch fans
in clock towers with rifles?
Some would say yes, we, on
the other hand, have far more
respect for human life than
the average movie producer.
With the recent release
of Universal's "Hannibal
Rising" our worst fears have
come to fruition: the ultimate
unnecessary movie tie-in.
Don't get us wrong, "Silence
of Lambs," "Hannibal" and
"Red Dragon" were all great
movies but does anyone
really care to see the origin of
a cannibalistic serial killer?
We get it, he eats people; not
much explanation is needed.
This is not to say that all
origin movies are bad, look
■
at 2005's "Batman Begins" or
the recent "Casino Royale."
Both of these prequels to
established franchises were
well put together and delved
into the pre-existing relevant
plot points. "Hannibal
Rising," on the other hand,
is just a poor excuse to milk
more money out of a trilogy
that had already reached a •
satisfying conclusion.
Even worse than a
pointless sequel to a good
film, is a pointless sequel to
a pointless movie. Perhaps
the best example of this is the
classically terrible "Breakin'
2: Electric Boogaloo," the
sequel to the critically
ashamed motion picture
"Breakin'," And who could
forget the infamous four film
masterpiece that was "House
Party?" But the bad sequel
that all other bad sequels are
judged by is "Weekend At
Bemie's II." No one wanted
the original and yet there
are now two films and, we
shudder to say this, there
is a third one currently in
development. C'mon we get
the gist; he's dead and they
think he's alive. Hardy-har-
har!
Of course, then there
are the redundant sequels
to movies that didn't need
sequels. "The Lion King" and
"Jaws" are prime examples of
this. Both were movies that,
at their time, were considered
cinematic masterpieces and
both movies were visited
by a number of sequels and
spin-offs that served no more
purpose than to pump money
out of the fan base. "Jaws"
huge box office success lead
to a sub-par sequel, only to
be followed the craptastic
"Jaws 3-D" and then came
the ultimate travesty, "Jaws:
The Revenge." In this clunker
the son of the shark from
the first film comes after
the family of the man who
killed his father. A shark?!
Seeking revenge?! What kind
of two-bit, half-assed, sell
out of a screenwriter would
come with this over-the-top
plot? And how did they get
mmmmm
Michael Caine to be in this?
These are the questions we
all must ask ourselves when
we're faced with something as
terrifically bad as "Jaws: The
Revenge."
One of the most beloved
movies of all time, full told it
ran in theaters for a number
of years and it still holds the
title of the best selling home
video of all-time, with 55
million copies sold. Praised
by critics and the winner of
two Academy Awards, "The
Lion King" is one of the best
animated features ever to
be released by Walt Disney
Pictures.
However those greedy
bastards couldn't resist
releasing some god-awful
straight-to-video sequels. *
Four years after the original's
release, "The Lion King
2: Simba's Pride" came
stumbling drunkenly into
video stores.
W
e*» gup pur ciiifif_________■
continued on pfigk. 5