Thomm Quackenbush, author

Hulk Hogan

Let me tell you something, brother. You might think that, just because you're from Iran and from a culture completely different from ours, it allows you the ability to down the American spirit. Well, I hate to be the bearer, but if your goal is to keep the American spirit down, then you're in for some bad news. See, the American spirit isn't a cat; you can't strangle the American dream while thrusting aimlessly into the void before achieving release. The American dream is the promise made to all of us. The American dream is alive and well in all of us. Everyone one of those maniacs out there has a cat at home, and if we all work together there is nothing that we cannot accomplish. Keep in mind, when you head to the ring tonight. Keep your ears peeled and listen. Past your stereotype of Middle Eastern decent and your loud rhetoric, you'll hear a sound, the sound of the American spirit pounding itself against the body of a feline. You'd better take your vitamins, say your prayers and suffocate your dog in order to provide yourself with sexual orgasm. Whatcha going to do, terrorist, when the America dream runs wild on you?

Back when you thought wrestling was real -- admit it and get over it -- Hulk Hogan ruled the world. Seriously, he was everywhere. It was getting scary for a while there. There was the cartoon, various crappy movies, one good movie, the home workout kit, the breakfast cereal, the action figure, and the little known .44 magnum pistol you needed to kill that scurvy bastard who never treated you like a woman. Hulk Hogan says "treat your woman with respect or die Eastwood-style." Thanks to the fervor of American marketing, Hulk Hogan became a pseudo-celebrity, traveling the world winning battle after battle for the American spirit. Damn it all, we were right there to cheer him on. Granted, there were tons of drugs in the 1980's, so that could explain everything. Hulkamania is all about habitual drug use. See, you learned something. Now, I'm not saying every fan of Hulk Hogan could use a trip to the rehab clinic. I mean, it couldn't hurt though. He was the walking representation of America, never quitting, never giving anything other then his best. He was what we all wanted to be. Then he got a little chunky, lost his hair, and his skin is doing this strange stretching thing, but he's still our hero. Fortunately, thanks to some strange twist of fate, America is the reflection of this once great man. That's what we call irony, little children.

Well, like that annoying clog in your sink caused by the severed hand of that prostitute, Hulk just keeps coming back. This time he's tag-teaming with his family, rushing the American media with a family friendly look at his life. There's his pet-loving wife, his frosted-haired son, and his daughter. Yes, the little bleached sperm of Hogan managed to swim upstream and breed with a woman. Steroids make your kids look hot. Granted, they also lead to burst of insane rage, which explains the concept of Hulk running about accusing everything with a pair of testicles of attempting to bang his daughter.

Until Hulk realizes the world is now laughing at him rather then behind him, the world of cheesy entertainment is complete. Can anyone say Bionic Commando II? I know I can. Now try to say it with a straight face. I win.

Great Words From Great Americans
"Hopefully I can become the Babe Ruth of the World Wrestling Federation and be the champion at the same time." -Hulk Hogan

Stevehen J. Warren was born in America. He knows people. American people. You should contact him if you are an American. Or if you aren't an America, but have ever met one.
He writes just to spite you.


In America
In America Menu


website counter


eXTReMe Tracker



Works by Thomm Quackenbush

The Night's Dream Series

We Shadows by Thomm Quackenbush

Danse Macabre by Thomm Quackenbush

Artificial Gods by Thomm Quackenbush