There isn’t a number high enough or a word yet uttered mean enough to describe the way I feel about my home town. They’ve yet to make a shit emoji shitty enough. No clever abbreviations. It’s a little corner of nowhere that houses mostly end users of all those drugs that are being illegally smuggled in to the country in the assholes of drug mules who are…….well, assholes I guess. Everything is falling apart. You can’t walk five paces near any business without being asked for a dollar. I have a long and storied history with verbally abusing it any chance that I get. The core of everything that I’ve ever participated in with SSM was to mock this town in one way or the other.
I was in a fake band that played a poor rendition of a satanic song in a local pizza parlor despite the fact that I’d picked up playing guitar about a month and a half prior. That church group picked a bad night to grab a pizza. I made a movie that I spent thirty two dollars on that was supposed to be in the horror genre despite every scene being shot during the day. No real actors, no script, and it was the first thing that I ever did video editing wise basically by myself. It was an abortion. Which was exactly the point. We took similar shits on a web series, on documentaries, there was sports show at one point, we did a news show that only pertained to this town because we could accurately call ourselves it’s number one news team. Podcasts, more horrible music, and then we landed on our death nail. More on that in a second.
We made it all shitty on purpose for two major reasons. One. Anything that is a product of this town I felt needed to be a reflection of this town. Meaning it should be the worst representation of whatever genre we happened to be trolling. It had to be just good enough to be considered that form of entertainment. The second reason was because most of the people that are doing legit versions of those forms of entertainment are pompous dickheads, and we thought it was funny to expose that it’s actually pretty easy to make those types of things. We honestly had to take extra steps and put forth more effort to make them look as shitty as possible. We like displaying our shitty work next to their slightly less shitty work. We spent twenty bucks on beer to make ours. They spent millions on theirs. My blog was the only place that we broke character because it was the one thing that I did completely solo. One individual always hated that I did that.
Odder aka ICONO aka Eddie Allen was one of the heads on a three headed snake. His ambition was ten times the size of mine, and a million times the size of Chris Moon’s. His singing voice has all the beauty of a Clarksville subdivision, and so we put it on display as often as possible. He was the completely unlikable character playing the cliche likable guy on our web series. He was our news anchor on In Other News. He was the co-host who was constantly fired and rehired on The Dan Reavitt sports show that targeted all you Kentucky Wildcat fans. He was key to the moot points podcast. Then he put on a leotard and started wrestling.
It was funny at first. Getting Chris Moon in front of a giant crowd in nothing but his undies to a loud chant of “put some clothes on” will always be a highlight of my life. Problem is that once the joke was over, we realized only two heads of the three headed snake were trolling. One of us had actually become what we despised. Serious. He went on to produce a really shitty version of a wrestling show on actual television. It was a trolling masterstroke. Complete with fake commercials. We tried everything from shaming to outright asking him to stop doing that shit.
We tried doing some of our other projects and none of them worked anymore. I have hours of unused footage for projects that we got either a little too drunk making or just had zero direction because he was distracted with who he was going to fake fight next. Eventually I put him in a position where he had to make a choice by intentionally framing him to look like he just fucked over his wrestling buddies. He was either going to have to sell me out, or take the bullet. I’ll give you three guesses which path he chose. Here is the most important take away from that. It was all my fault.
There is a scene in one of my favorite movies (Casino) where two mobsters are having a conversation but they are speaking entirely in code. Declaring a ton of threats of life in a casual and friendly conversation. They have a tendency to repeat themselves to drive home how serious they are about the threat, and to make sure the other one gets exactly what he is saying. If I ever ask you if you consider someone to be your girlfriend more than once, I’m threatening you. About a week before I put him on the spot I asked him that exact question several times over a private lunch meeting. He might not have picked up on it until after the hit was carried out. I’m a man of my word.
So the final run of SSM won’t have the person who was the most important cog in the machine on the first five year run. That’s on me. The point of the last run is to fix and then completely tarnish our reputation as trolls and not indie wrestling hacks. To right the one wrong out of all of our wrongs that was never meant to be quite that wrong. I’ve already had several people ask me if Eddie Allen was back on board. He isn’t. It’s not his fault. It’s mine. I destroyed that friendship beyond all repair by betraying him in the most absolute way that I knew how without getting him incarcerated. You’ll have to dig out your old ICONO cds (yes cds) if you want to cheer yourself up upon hearing that.
So the new mission statement is just taking us back to our old one. My mother always told me that she didn’t care what I did as long as I was the best at it. I think that was shitty low expectations on her part and my life’s work has been punishing that remark. I have zero ill will as it pertains to Eddie Allen. I’m not going to pull a METOO and act as though he never existed. If some of our old stuff gets reposted he’ll be plastered throughout it. I’m positive I’ll have more people come up and ask me where the fuck he is. Lucky for me, Chris Moon already put me through this similar situation a million times before. I’m prepared. There might not be a lot of Chris Moon fans out there, but holy mother of fuck are they rabid. Two heads are better than one, I suppose.