My apologies gangs, but thanks to massive hardware failure here at the Free Line, I am unable to produce “part two” of our piece on Current TV. Expect to see it early next week. With that said, we wish thee both a fond adieu and a very happy Halloween.

Long time fans of the Free Line might remember our three part series on Max Headroom, a short lived, albeit highly influential, science fiction program about media gone awry. Of particular note was the style of the programming found on the show’s all-powerful “networks” — loud, fast paced, and generally overwhelming. Now what if I told you that the vision brought forth in Max Headroom was not only real, but run by Al Gore? Well there is. It exists on many cable and satellite packages, as well as living on the Internet. It’s called Current TV, and it’s number three on our list of celebrity driven Technological Misfires. Since the “Current experience” is rather large, we are going to break it into three days.

Day One: The introduction. It’s what you are reading right now.

Day Two: I “binge” upon everything Current has to offer, both on television and online. Special attention will be paid to it’s “unorthodox” style. Is it mainstream? I don’t know yet. Does it make money? I have absolutely no idea … but I am about to find out.

Day Three: We make our case for Current’s “current” Misfire status.

…And there you have it. Come back tomorrow to see me analyze Current TV. Until then, we bid thee a fond adieu.

My research concerning Current TV is taking a bit longer than I expected. Expect to see the full piece tomorrow. Until then, we bid thee a fond a adieu.

My apologies, but our piece on Al Gore’s Current TV has be postponed. Expect to see it tomorrow. In the meantime…

Punk. There are few words in the English language that can bring up such passion in a human being. To some, the word “punk” conjurers up images of Johnny Rotten, Joey Ramone, and/or Henry Rollins singing as loud as humanly possible to a room of angry, yet strangely happy, teenagers. To others, it is a word that describes those “rotten kids” that knock over old people’s garbage cans and casually walk on their lawns. There are even those who associate the word with a certain world champion professional wrestler. By and large, though, “punk” has come to mean one thing: Doing or saying something that will ultimately upset the “establishment,” AKA “The Man.” Our story today deals with the latter most concept.

In the world of music, “going punk” can be achieved in several different ways. The normally loud and bombastic Green Day went “punk” by writing a gentle, albeit extremely sarcastic, ballad that is still heard on soft rock stations to this day. Japanese band The Pillows go “punk” by writing and performing songs in English. Sure, most of their English-language material make absolutely no sense, but that’s the point. Big Audio Dynamite (also known as BAD), on the other hand, didn’t have to write a sappy sounding song or adopt a foreign language in order to bother “The Man.” All they did was release an album of original material on the Internet … for free … in 1997. To truly enjoy the tale that I am going to relate, you will need to know a bit of the back story.

The band Big Audio Dynamite was formed in 1984 by Mick Jones, the guitarist for legendary punk band The Clash. Unlike The Clash, Big Audio Dynamite was more concerned with having a good time than it was proving a political point. To accentuate this point — or rather, the complete and total lack of one — Jones brought a myriad of modern styles to the table, including reggae, electronica, and ’80’s-style dance music. BAD was also one of the first bands to embrace hip hop-level sampling. Nowhere is this more apparent than in their signature hit “Rush,” which relies on The Who’s “Baba O’ Reilly” to provide much of the counter melody. While not nearly as successful as Jones’ previous band, BAD was respected by fans and critics alike for embracing the unknown, both sonically and otherwise.

Fast forward to 1998. Although Big Audio Dynamite still had their loyal fan base, their days of topping the charts had long since passed. Their previous album, “F-Punk,” contained no hit singles and was panned by almost every critic alive. In an effort to return the mainstream, Mick Jones recruited former English Beat and  General Public lead singer Ranking Roger to handle the vocals on the new album, tentatively entitled “Entering a New Ride.” The only potential roadblock facing Jones and company was BAD’s record label, Radioactive Records. To say that Radioactive hated the new album was an understatement. It was so reviled, in fact, that the big brass wouldn’t even release it. Faced with what seemed to be a no-win situation, Jones did what any sane, reasonable person would have done at the time: He released the album on the Internet for free. Every week for eighteen weeks, a brand new Wave file was uploaded to a specially designed website. Sure, the band lost a bundle on the deal, but what did it really matter? Somebody, somewhere was listening to the new album, and that was enough.

Now you’re probably wondering why I consider this to be a “misfire.” After all, it really was a creative, inventive way to make the best out of a bad situation. It all comes down to six “issues” for me:

1. The File Type Issue – The average size for a four minute Wave file is roughly 45 megabytes. Now picture yourself loading that 45 megabyte file eighteen times over a “super fast” 28.8 modem.
2. The Website Issue – The website was the only place that this album was available. The second it was taken down, the album disappeared from the face of the Earth. And no, that is not an exaggeration. I spent hours looking for this album — iTunes, those quasi-legal Russian downloading sites, BitTorrent — only to hit dead end after dead end. The closest I came was a fan site that “claimed” to have the album in full. Unfortunately, it lead me to a dead link.
3. The “Money” Issue – As I said above, no one made a dime off of this.
4. The “Computer” Issue – Not many people had CD burners in 1997. If you wanted to listen to this album, you either had to go to your computer or hook up a cassette deck to the sound card. While the former was good for the occasional listen, it made repeat listening all but impossible. As for the latter, well … even the best tape could not match the sound of a Wave file. Sure, it was better than nothing, but still.
5. The Lack of Proper Advertising - Despite their handful of hit recordings, Big Audio Dynamite wasn’t necessarily the biggest band in the world. As such, not many people actually knew about this until much, much later. A bigger band would have been able to advertise a bit more.
6. The Novel Approach – It’s a new idea. Problems like those mentioned above are bound to happen.

…And there you have it. While it might not have been the most practical or “cost effective” idea out there, “Entering a New Ride” helped to establish the “downloading” culture we know and love today. And that, my friends, is about as “punk” as a human being can possibly get.

Chad Ochocinco is entering the news business, in a way. The oft-talked about wide receiver/showman/wild and crazy guy has announced the formation of the Ochocinco News Network (OCNN), a Twitter-based news feed dedicated to his life long passion: Talking constantly pro football. Featuring what could possibly be one of the greatest tag lines on the web today — “If I break it, you might as well believe it” — OCNN will feature news and opinions from all thirty-two NFL locker rooms, uncut and uncensored. All joking aside, we here at the Free Line wish the man formally known as “Chad Johnson” all the best in his new endeavor. The man obviously has a passion for social media, so it should be interesting to see what he can do.

This isn’t the first time that a famous individual decided to “dabble” in the realm of technology. For some, such as former Doobie Brothers guitarist turned respected rocket scientist Jeff “Skunk” Baxter, the move fit like a glove. For others … let’s just say it did not end well. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the Top Five Technological Misfires: Celebrity Edition. First on the docket is legendary rock band Aerosmith. So what is their crime against technology, you ask? It all boils down to one word: Gaming.

Anyone who is even remotely familiar with gaming knows about the synergy between the beloved world of interactive ones-and-zeroes and rock music. For every two games that could actually be considered successful (namely Guitar Hero and Rock Band), there are at least eight that were not worth the digital media that it was printed on. In the past thirty years, gamers who dig that rock ‘n roll music have been subjected to everything from Journey Escape for the Atari 2600 to the Motley Crue’s Crue Ball for the Sega Genesis to Michael Jackson’s Moonwalker. Still, there are few music-based games as bad as the Aerosmith-sponsored Revolution X and Quest for Fame.

The so-called “boys from Boston” first foray into the digital realm was Revolution X, a Duck Hunt-esque light gun game released to arcades nationwide in 1994. The premise was simple: Aerosmith has been taken hostage by The “New Order Nation,” a terrorist organization led by a dominatrix named Helga. It is up to you and your never ending supply of razor sharp Aersomith compact discs to save the band and make the world a better place. (Hey, I said the story was “simple.” I never said anything about it making sense. And no, I am not making any of this up.) After what seems like years, you finally save the band, only to discover three horrific, unsettling truths:

1. None of the band members can actually act. There are episodes of America’s Most Wanted that feature better acting.
2. You just spent anywhere from $5 to $70 on what ended up being a bad remake of T2: The Arcade Game.
3. That was three hours of your life that you will never get back. Ever.

By the end of the game, you inevitably find yourself rooting for the villainous dominatrix. Sure, all of your rights would be repressed, but at least you wouldn’t have to play this game any longer.

For the 1996 “follow up,” the band decided to ditch the “arcade” approach for something a bit more suited to their talents. Made with the help of IBM, Quest for Glory was a rhythm game designed to give fans the “complete Aersomith experience,” minus the money, the fame, and fifteen-plus years of illegal substances. Despite it all, it was actually quite fun to play. Think Rock Band, only you’re tethered to your brand new, Pentium-based PC running Windows 95 instead of a Playstation 3 or an X-Box 360. So why is it included with the digitized train wreck known as Revolution X? It’s all due to five things:

1. PCs weren’t nearly as “accessible” then as they are today.
2. The game cost roughly $90 … provided that you could even find it at all.
3. The game was played with the V-Pick, a plastic, pick-like device that plugged into your PC’s parallel port. Unfortunately, the V-Pick, like many specialized controllers and MIDI devices at the time, did not necessarily work well with the soon-to-be antiquated standard. The result was a spotty and ultimately disappointing game play experience. Those who couldn’t get the V-Pick to work were “allowed” to use the space bar on the keyboard instead, but it just wasn’t the same.
4. Promised add-ons — the Virual Guitar and the V-Stix, respectively — were even harder to find than the game itself.
5. Why play this when you could be playing the much more modern (and easier to find) Guitar Hero: Aersomith instead?

A slightly reworked version of Quest for Fame was released as a “digital extra” on Aerosmith’s 1997 release, Nine Lives. It is notable for being the first rhythm game to include a full drum track.

…And there you have it. Be sure to come back tomorrow, when we take a “fair and balanced” look at the Al Gore-run cable network/web portal Current TV. Until then, we bid thee a fond adieu.

Anyone under the age of thirty is probably familiar with the name Seth MacFarlane. For those who have no idea who I am talking about, a brief introduction: Seth MacFarlane is the highly successful and extremely controversial writer, director, animator, voice actor, and occasional singer responsible for such shows as Family Guy, American Dad, The Cleveland Show, and Seth MacFarlane’s Cavalcade of Comedy. He is perhaps best known, however, as the innovator of the “Manatee Joke;” a random sight gag, pun, and/or obscure pop culture reference from the 1980’s that has little or nothing to do with the plot of the episode. To his supporters, he is a visionary that is willing to push the proverbial envelope in order to elicit a reaction. To his detractors, however, MacFarlane is little more than a pompous ideologue that is more concerned with pushing political beliefs than entertaining the masses. Still, controversy does indeed create cash. As long as MacFarlane’s shows bring in ad revenue, Fox will keep showing them, whether people like Matt Parker and Trey Stone like it or not.

So what is left for MacFarlane to conquer you ask? The all-American format known as the variety show, of course. Co-written by comedienne/voice actress Alex Borstein, Family Guy Presents: Seth & Alex’s Almost Live Comedy Show is slated to feature a hodgepodge of animated musical numbers, sketches (both live and animated), and various celebrity cameos. Oh … And it’s nothing more than a sixty minute advertisement for Windows 7. According to Microsoft’s Gayle Troberman, the special will use “the cast of Family Guy in some interesting ways that integrate the product messages. You’ll see us deeply integrated into the content.” Many long time fans of MacFarlane are shocked by the announcement. As for us, well … it’s really not quite as simple as that. We’ve lived though this before. So join us, if you will, as we travel back to the innocent time known to some as “1999.”

In the late 90’s, few things were cooler than professional wrestling. From 1996 to early 2002, fans filled arenas, gymnasiums, and bingo halls just to see their favorites do battle. While there are several reasons why wrestling was so big back then, we will only be focusing on the Monday Night War between the WWE – known then as the WWF — and WCW. Before we get into the crux of our story, let us take a look at our “players.”

Vince K. McMahon – Third generation wrestling promoter and owner of the World Wrestling Federation. Vince is what is known as the “entire package:” Intelligent, cut throat, business savvy, and highly controversial. Some consider him to be a genius. Others say that he is the worst thing to ever happen to the wrestling industry. Most people, however, tend to inhabit the “gray area” that tends to exist between the two. At the time of this story, McMahon’s WWF is still the second biggest promotion in the country, but is gaining ground fast. On television, he is known as Mr. McMahon, an evil “corporate suit” that is out to ruin the career of his rival, “Stone Cold” Steve Austin.

Ted Turner – Media mogul and owner of the WWF’s main rival, WCW. For reasons that are way too complicated to explain here, McMahon and Turner are not on the best of terms. To put it simply, Ted Turner has one thing in mind: Put the WWF out of business. It has yet to happen, but he has come close on numerous occasions.

Eric Bischoff – An accountant turned announcer turned television producer responsible for booking (writing) all of WCW’s story lines and characters. Under his leadership, WCW went from a small promotion in Atlanta to the single most popular entity on cable television. Bischoff is also known for reading the results of Raw live on the air. He would then remind the audience that “unlike Raw, Nitro was live every single week.”

Vince Russo – A highly abrasive, highly polarizing figure partially responsible for the WWF’s “turn around.” His stories at time were filled to the brim with anti-heroes, sex, innuendo and enough swerves (plot twists) to even make film director/admitted twist ending lover M. Night Shyamalan jealous.

WWF Raw Is War - The WWF’s flagship program, airing every Monday night at nine on the USA Network. At the time of this story, Raw was only shown live twice a month. The “off-week” shows were then taped later in the week.

WCW Monday Nitro – WCW’s flagship program, airing every Monday night at eight on TNT. Unlike Raw, each episode of Nitro aired live.

Mick Foley – A fan favorite known for his wacky characters, engaging interviews, and the innate ability to withstand a ton of punishment.

Bill Goldberg – WCW’s top face (good guy), known primarily for his surprising 173 match winning streak.

…Now that you know all of the players, allow us to begin the story in earnest.

December 27th, 1998 – Goldberg’s streak is ended by fellow face Kevin Nash at WCW’s top pay-per-view of the year, Starrcade. While Nash himself did not cheat, several “illegal” techniques were employed supposedly on his behalf, including a stun gun, a cattle prod, and interference by real life best friend Scott Hall. The big Goldberg/Nash rematch is booked for the January 4th edition of Nitro.

December 28th, 1998 – Nash, who claimed that he had no idea that Hall interfered, granted Goldberg a rematch on January 4th.

December 29th, 1998 – Mick Foley, then wrestling as the masked Mankind, won the WWF World Title at Raw, slated to air January 4th.

January 4th, 1999; 8:00 PM – Goldberg is “arrested” for allegedly stalking legendary manager Miss Elizabeth and is immediately removed from the title match. Because of the Goldberg “situation,” Nash issued an open challenge to anyone “brave enough” to take him on. Said challenge was answered by one man: Wrestling legend and top heel (bad guy) Hulk Hogan. This was the first time that fans had seen Hogan since his “retirement” on The Tonight Show a few months prior.

January 4th, 1999; 10:00 PM – Under orders from Eric Bischoff, lead announcer Tony Schiavone read the following:

“Fans, don’t even think about changing the channel, because we’ve learned that Mick Foley, who used to wrestle here as Cactus Jack, is going to win [the WWF] world title! Heh, talk about putting asses in the seats.”

…And at that very moment, millions changed the channel just so they could bare witness to Mick Foley finally winning a world’s title.

As foolish as the move seemed on the surface, there was indeed a method to Bischoff’s madness. Yes, his ratings would temporarily take a nose dive while wrestling fans watched the WWF, but the ratings would immediately shoot back up again after the match ended. How did he know this? Simple — the Foley/Rock title match was taking place before the scheduled Kevin Nash/Hulk Hogan match up on Nitro. While the world was watching the competition, the WCW faithful were “treated” to under card acts like Konnan, Scott Steiner, Wrath, and Bam Bam Bigelow. When the millions returned to Nitro, they were greeted by former champion and fan favorite “Diamond” Dallas Page beating upon perennial jobbers — the wrestling equivalent to a “tomato can” from boxing and MMA — Brian Adams and Mike “Virgil” Jones. Still, everything was riding on the Kevin Nash/”Hollywood” Hulk Hogan main event. If everything happened exactly right, then no one would remember the little “faux pas” involving Mick Foley and “that other company.” The key word in that sentence, however, is “if.”

Before we discuss the actual main event, you have to realize how big this match truly was. By 1999, Hulk Hogan rarely appeared on free television. Bischoff simply mentioning that “Hollywood was in the building” made fans sit up and take notice. Sure, he was usually there to hype some made-for-TV movie or the next pay-per-view event, but that really didn’t matter. The simple fact that he was there at all was good enough. Even those who legitimately hated Hogan wanted to see him, if for no other reason than to boo him mercilessly. But to have him there and working the main event was completely unfathomable. All they would have to do is deliver a solid main event. If they do that, then everything is fine. There’s that “if” again…

So after all the hype, all of the swerves (again, plot twists), and all of the comments, it was finally time for the main event. Hogan came out first, acting like a kid who was just caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing. Nash, on the other hand, looked primed and ready. He had everything going for him — the fans, the title, even two-thirds of the announce team. Hogan nervously walked over to the champ, only to be pushed back into the corner of the ring. He started to throw a punch, but stopped. Instead, he decided it would be best to lightly poke his opponent in the shoulder. Nash, of course, did what any good champion would do in that situation: Fall flat on his back, acting as if he was just knocked out. Hogan casually got down to the mat and pinned Nash. The newly reunited duo of Kevin Nash and Hulk Hogan spent the rest of allotted television time laughing at the fans.

Just in case you missed the “payoff” (climax), allow me to say it again: Hulk Hogan defeated Kevin Nash in five seconds by pushing him over with his finger. The two wrestlers then began to mock the very people who indirectly pay their salaries: The fans. It wasn’t exciting. It wasn’t even enjoyable. To most fans, the so-called “Finger Poke of Doom” was proof positive that WCW was going down the tubes. The next week, many of them switched over to Raw and never looked back. Within six months, Eric Bischoff would be “sent home,” a wrestling term that basically translates to “one step below being fired.” Within two and a half years, WCW would be sold to Vince McMahon for next to nothing. Ted Turner’s worst wrestling-related nightmare had finally come true.

At this point in the story, you’re probably wondering what any of this “wrestling talk” has to do with the Family Guy-themed Windows 7 infomercial that Seth MacFarlane is currently producing. To put it simply, it is proof that those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it. In other words, this upcoming special could very well be MacFarlane’s “Finger Poke of Doom.” Allow me to explain.

Eric Bischoff’s entire WCW reign was based around the idea that he was not the establishment, also known as Vince McMahon’s WWF. McMahon wants to jettison all his established stars in order to save money? Well Bischoff is not only going to open up Ted Turner’s bottomless checkbook, he is going to rip off the cover. McMahon wants to put the hype machine behind several six foot-plus behemoths that have a few issues with “performance enhancing drugs?” Bischoff is going to scour the world for those who are the very antithesis of that ideal. It took some time to get people to notice his “unique” concepts, but once they did, they came in droves.

Seth MacFarlane is the same exact way. When it first debuted, Family Guy was considered to be animated equivalent to a ten-car pile up. There were jokes that didn’t relate to anything. There were references to things that no one even came close to remembering, such as obscure title sequences and one-off Monty Python skits. The fictional town of Quohog itself featured everything from a talking dog and a homicidal baby to a man in a chicken costume and eccentric actor Adam West. There was some “problems” at the beginning — Family Guy was canceled twice — but after a while, the general public began to “warm up” to MacFarlane’s brand of bizarre humor.  Perhaps the proudest moment for MacFarlane’s creation came in early 2005, when fan demand all but forced Fox to renew the show. At that point in time, Family Guy was one of the biggest success stories ever to come out of the world of television, bar none.

Then a funny thing happened: All of the success, accolades, and newspaper articles started going to their respective heads. With Bischoff, the arrogance manifested itself as “Uncle Eric,” a brash, sarcastic on-screen authority figure that delighted in the misfortune of others. Each week, Bischoff, along with his compatriots in the NWO – New World Order, easily one of the most popular wrestling stables (groups) of all time — would openly mock anything that came to mind. Everything was fair game, from the “live-action cartoon nature” of the competition to “reminiscing” about the time he fired then-rising star Steve Austin via FedEx. In one particularly memorable segment, Bischoff openly challenged Vince McMahon to a wrestling match. When McMahon “no-showed” the event, Bischoff was declared the winner by forfeit. While taking pot shots at the competition was nothing new in the world of wrestling, Bischoff’s “in-ring rant sessions” took things to a whole other level. A somewhat scripted segment between wrestlers was one thing. A thinly-veiled proclamation of superiority by the boss on live television was quite another.

As the years went on, Bischoff’s reliance on his seminal idea, the NWO, grew exponentially. By the time of the Finger Poke of Doom, there were five versions of the group active, including the LWO (made up primarily of wrestlers of Latino decent) and the B-Team, whose job it was to “lay down” (take a dive) for the stars. Ironically, just as fans began to grow tired of the NWO, Bischoff’s air of invincibility increased. It reached a point where such television terms as “quarter hour returns” and “pay-per-view buy rates” became as familiar to the WCW faithful as words like “pin” and “title match.” Even the visible cracks formed by the Goldberg/Kevin Nash match at the Starrcade pay-per-view weren’t enough warn the man in charge. He was still on top, and that was all mattered.

MacFarlane’s arrogance, on the other hand, started to show itself  in a slightly different fashion. Instead of physically saying what was on his mind like Bischoff did, he let it all come out in his work. Gradually, the stories and Manatee jokes became more focused on “shock value” than the more traditional humor found in Family Guy’s first three seasons. Nowhere was this more apparent than in the infamous “prom night dumpster baby” sketch, in which a cadre of newly born babies sing about being abandoned in an alley. To say that the new direction was “controversial” amongst fans would be an understatement. Some applauded the change, calling MacFarlane and company “fearless and creative.” Others were rather disappointed by the new episodes, saying that the writers “forgot how to be funny.” Either way, people were talking.

In addition to the increased use of Manatee jokes, the writing staff became more dependent on using their own political views in their storytelling. Stories about patriarch Peter Griffin playing the piano while drunk or baby Stewie trying to sabotage his parents attempt to have a fourth child were “phased out” in favor of episodes about partial-birth abortion and the impact that Wal-Mart has on small town America. Brian, once considered to be the most popular character on the show, now spent most of his screen time criticizing such things as capitalism, the Republican party, and organized religion (namely Christianity and Judaism.) The days of jokes about television programs from the 1980’s and the Fonz were long, long gone.

At this time, we here at the Free Line feel that we need to make one thing perfectly clear: We are not saying MacFarlane has reached Eric Bischoff-levels of arrogance just because he dares to be political. What does bring him to that plane, however, is his insistence that his fans should appreciate anything that he produces, regardless their own personal point-of-view. “[There are some fans who] watch every week, and every week they talk about how terrible the show is,” said MacFarlane in his September 2009 Playboy interview. “That’s something you see in animation fans, science fiction fans and comic book fans—all the nerds, basically. Nerds can get really angry. This is not meant to sound insensitive to their plight, but when you pour a disproportionate amount of your life force into one particular thing you can lose some objectivity.”

…So here it is, the reason for our three-day story. It all boils down down one simple idea: MacFarlane has become a hypocrite, just like Eric Bischoff did ten years earlier. When he first started, Eric Bischoff wanted nothing more than to create a wrestling that was anti-Vince McMahon and Vince Russo– gritty, realistic, and devoid of the “spectacle” atmosphere and publicity stunts that the WWF prided themselves on. By the time The Finger Poke of Doom rolled around, Nitro was everything he claimed that he hated. Aside from Goldberg, “Diamond” Dallas Page, and Sting, all of the stars were made famous by McMahon’s hype machine. Loyal fans were basically told by the announcers to watch “that other” show, but only if they promised to return for the main event. When they did return, they got to witness one of the most bizarre moments in wrestling history. Some were angry, some were confused, but for the most part, everyone agreed on the following two points:

1. It was the last thing anyone wanted to see.
2. Be it for better or for worse, Monday nights now belonged to Raw. It might not be perfect, but at least it was better than this. To put it in another way, Mick Foley really did put asses in the seats, both physically and metaphorically.

In the case of Seth MacFarlane, his hypocrisy comes from his seemingly cavalier disregard for the beliefs that he holds dear. On one hand, MacFarlane has gone out of his way to preach the gospels of artistic freedom and modern liberalism to anyone that would listen. But on the other hand, he is willing to work with Microsoft, a company that many within his own belief structure feel is a heartless, soulless monopoly that is keeping the masses from discovering Linux. To make matters worse, said “cold, heartless monopoly” will have the final say on all of the jokes and skits found in the special itself. After all, things like “prom night dumpster baby” or “Herbert the elderly pedophile”  are not conducive to moving copies of Windows. And that is why they are there, after all. If history does indeed repeat itself, the special will be followed by a few angry rants, a negative article or two and a solemn vow never to watch Family Guy ever again. It’s the Finger Poke of Doom 2009 … and the perpetrators were too full of themselves to ever see it coming.

At the end of the January 4th, 1999 edition of WCW Monday Nitro, former champion Kevin Nash is shown standing inches away from the camera, laughing. Right before the show fades out, Nash is heard yelling “”Can you say ‘deja vu’?” to anyone that would listen. Sadly Kevin, we can. It’s as disturbing and upsetting now as it was then.

Just because your years worth of work and sacrifice are finally paying off doesn’t mean that you have to become Eric Bischoff or Seth MacFarlane. So sit back, relax, and enjoy our Top Three Ways to Avoid Your Own “Finger Poke of Doom.”

1. Keep It All in Perspective - Yes, you’re at the top of your game. Still, this is not a time to become complacent. The world did not change just because you have become successful. Make sure that you work as hard on day one thousand as you did on day one. If you don’t, well … Let’s just say that phrases similar to “that’ll put asses in the seats” and “prom night dumpster baby” will become regular parts of your vocabulary.
2. Keep an Eye Out for the Competition, But Don’t Go Crazy – Watching out for your closest competitor is always a good thing. That said, the last thing that you want to do is become obsessive like Eric Bischoff. It doesn’t matter how good or bad your competition is doing right now. What matters is how good or bad you are doing right now. Remember that.
3. Keep Innovating - If Eric Bischoff would have created an effective follow-up to the NWO, there is a good chance that WCW would still be in business today. Don’t become complacent. Always strive to find the next big thing, all the while keeping rules number one and two in mind.

…And there you have it. We’ll be taking the next few days off, but rest assured, it’s only temporary. We will be back in full on Monday. Until then, we bid thee a fond adieu.

Hello and welcome to part three of our little Lesson in Arrogance. So, without further procrastination, we present to you the “payoff.”

At this point in the story, you’re probably wondering what any of this “wrestling talk” has to do with the Family Guy-themed Windows 7 infomercial that Seth MacFarlane is currently producing. To put it simply, it is proof that those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it. In other words, this upcoming special could very well be MacFarlane’s “Finger Poke of Doom.” Allow me to explain.

Eric Bischoff’s entire WCW reign was based around the idea that he was not the establishment, also known as Vince McMahon’s WWF. McMahon wants to jettison all his established stars in order to save money? Well Bischoff is not only going to open up Ted Turner’s bottomless checkbook, he is going to rip off the cover. McMahon wants to put the hype machine behind several six foot-plus behemoths that have a few issues with “performance enhancing drugs?” Bischoff is going to scour the world for those who are the very antithesis of that ideal. It took some time to get people to notice his “unique” concepts, but once they did, they came in droves.

Seth MacFarlane is the same exact way. When it first debuted, Family Guy was considered to be animated equivalent to a ten-car pile up. There were jokes that didn’t relate to anything. There were references to things that no one even came close to remembering, such as obscure title sequences and one-off Monty Python skits. The fictional town of Quohog itself featured everything from a talking dog and a homicidal baby to a man in a chicken costume and eccentric actor Adam West. There was some “problems” at the beginning — Family Guy was canceled twice — but after a while, the general public began to “warm up” to MacFarlane’s brand of bizarre humor.  Perhaps the proudest moment for MacFarlane’s creation came in early 2005, when fan demand all but forced Fox to renew the show. At that point in time, Family Guy was one of the biggest success stories ever to come out of the world of television, bar none.

Then a funny thing happened: All of the success, accolades, and newspaper articles started going to their respective heads. With Bischoff, the arrogance manifested itself as “Uncle Eric,” a brash, sarcastic on-screen authority figure that delighted in the misfortune of others. Each week, Bischoff, along with his compatriots in the NWO – New World Order, easily one of the most popular wrestling stables (groups) of all time — would openly mock anything that came to mind. Everything was fair game, from the “live-action cartoon nature” of the competition to “reminiscing” about the time he fired then-rising star Steve Austin via FedEx. In one particularly memorable segment, Bischoff openly challenged Vince McMahon to a wrestling match. When McMahon “no-showed” the event, Bischoff was declared the winner by forfeit. While taking pot shots at the competition was nothing new in the world of wrestling, Bischoff’s “in-ring rant sessions” took things to a whole other level. A somewhat scripted segment between wrestlers was one thing. A thinly-veiled proclamation of superiority by the boss on live television was quite another.

As the years went on, so did Bischoff’s reliance on his seminal idea, the NWO. By the time of the Finger Poke of Doom, there were five versions of the group active, including the LWO (made up primarily of wrestlers of Latino decent) and the B-Team, whose job it was to “lay down” (take a dive) for the stars. Ironically, just as fans began to grow tired of the NWO, Bischoff’s air of invincibility increased. It reached a point where such television terms as “quarter hour returns” and “pay-per-view buy rates” became as familiar to the WCW faithful as words like “pin” and “title match.” Even the visible cracks formed by the Goldberg/Kevin Nash match at the Starrcade pay-per-view weren’t enough warn the man in charge. He was still on top, and that was all mattered.

MacFarlane’s arrogance, on the other hand, started to show itself  in a slightly different fashion. Instead of physically saying what was on his mind like Bischoff did, he let it all come out in his work. Gradually, the stories and Manatee jokes became more focused on “shock value” than the more traditional humor found in Family Guy’s first three seasons. Nowhere was this more apparent than in the infamous “prom night dumpster baby” sketch, in which a cadre of newly born babies sing about being abandoned in an alley. To say that the new direction was “controversial” amongst fans would be an understatement. Some applauded the change, calling MacFarlane and company “fearless and creative.” Others were rather disappointed by the new episodes, saying that the writers “forgot how to be funny.” Either way, people were talking.

In addition to the increased use of Manatee jokes, the writing staff became more dependent on using their own political views in their storytelling. Stories about patriarch Peter Griffin playing the piano while drunk or baby Stewie trying to sabotage his parents attempt to have a fourth child were “phased out” in favor of episodes about partial-birth abortion and the impact that Wal-Mart has on small town America. Brian, once considered to be the most popular character on the show, now spent most of his screen time criticizing such things as capitalism, the Republican party, and organized religion (namely Christianity and Judaism.) The days of jokes about television programs from the 1980’s and the Fonz were long, long gone.

Now before we get to the main point, we need to make one thing perfectly clear: We are not saying MacFarlane has reached Eric Bischoff-levels of arrogance just because he dares to be political. What does bring him to that plane, however, is his insistence that his fans should appreciate anything that he produces, regardless their own personal point-of-view. “[There are some fans who] watch every week, and every week they talk about how terrible the show is,” said MacFarlane in his September 2009 Playboy interview. “That’s something you see in animation fans, science fiction fans and comic book fans—all the nerds, basically. Nerds can get really angry. This is not meant to sound insensitive to their plight, but when you pour a disproportionate amount of your life force into one particular thing you can lose some objectivity.”

…So here it is, the reason for our three-day story. It all boils down down one simple idea: MacFarlane has become a hypocrite, just like Eric Bischoff did ten years earlier. When he first started, Eric Bischoff wanted nothing more than to create a wrestling that was anti-Vince McMahon and Vince Russo– gritty, realistic, and devoid of the “spectacle” atmosphere and publicity stunts that the WWF prided themselves on. By the time The Finger Poke of Doom rolled around, Nitro was everything he claimed that he hated. Aside from Goldberg, “Diamond” Dallas Page, and Sting, all of the stars were made famous by McMahon’s hype machine. Loyal fans were basically told by the announcers to watch “that other” show, but only if they promised to return for the main event. When they did return, they got to witness one of the most bizarre moments in wrestling history. Some were angry, some were confused, but for the most part, everyone agreed on the following two points:

1. It was the last thing anyone wanted to see.
2. Be it for better or for worse, Monday nights now belonged to Raw. It might not be perfect, but at least it was better than this. To put it in another way, Mick Foley really did put asses in the seats, both physically and metaphorically.

In the case of Seth MacFarlane, his hypocrisy comes from his seemingly cavalier disregard for the beliefs that he holds dear. On one hand, MacFarlane has gone out of his way to preach the gospels of artistic freedom and modern liberalism to anyone that would listen. But on the other hand, he is willing to work with Microsoft, a company that many within his own belief structure feel is a heartless, soulless monopoly that is keeping the masses from discovering Linux. To make matters worse, said “cold, heartless monopoly” will have the final say on all of the jokes and skits found in the special itself. After all, things like “prom night dumpster baby” or “Herbert the elderly pedophile”  are not conducive to moving copies of Windows. And that is why they are there, after all. If history does indeed repeat itself, the special will be followed by a few angry rants, a negative article or two and a solemn vow never to watch Family Guy ever again. It’s the Finger Poke of Doom 2009 … and the perpetrators were too full of themselves to ever see it coming.

…And there you have it. Be sure to check back tomorrow to view our “Five things you can do to avoid your own Finger Poke of Doom.” Until then, we bid thee a fond adieu.

Hello and welcome back to our little Lesson in Arrogance. When we last left our shows, WCW lead announcer Tony Schiavone, under the behest of show runner Eric Bischoff, just informed the viewing audience that fan favorite Mick Foley was finally going to win the WWF Title. Naturally, millions simultaneously switched over to Raw just to see it happen. And now that you’re up to date, we bring you the exciting conclusion.

As foolish as the move seemed on the surface, there was indeed a method to Bischoff’s madness. Yes, his ratings would temporarily take a nose dive while wrestling fans watched the WWF, but the ratings would immediately shoot back up again after the match ended. How did he know this? Simple — the Foley/Rock title match was taking place before the scheduled Kevin Nash/Hulk Hogan match up on Nitro. While the world was watching the competition, the WCW faithful were “treated” to under card acts like Konnan, Scott Steiner, Wrath, and Bam Bam Bigelow. When the millions returned to Nitro, they were greeted by former champion and fan favorite “Diamond” Dallas Page beating upon perennial jobbers — the wrestling equivalent to a “tomato can” from boxing and MMA — Brian Adams and Mike “Virgil” Jones. Still, everything was riding on the Kevin Nash/”Hollywood” Hulk Hogan main event. If everything happened exactly right, then no one would remember the little “faux pas” involving Mick Foley and “that other company.” The key word in that sentence, however, is “if.”

Before we discuss the actual main event, you have to realize how big this match truly was. By 1999, Hulk Hogan rarely appeared on free television. Bischoff simply mentioning that “Hollywood was in the building” made fans sit up and take notice. Sure, he was usually there to hype some made-for-TV movie or the next pay-per-view event, but that really didn’t matter. The simple fact that he was there at all was good enough. Even those who legitimately hated Hogan wanted to see him, if for no other reason than to boo him mercilessly. But to have him there and working the main event was completely unfathomable. All they would have to do is deliver a solid main event. If they do that, then everything is fine. There’s that “if” again…

So after all the hype, all of the swerves (again, plot twists), and all of the comments, it was finally time for the main event. Hogan came out first, acting like a kid who was just caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing. Nash, on the other hand, looked primed and ready. He had everything going for him — the fans, the title, even two-thirds of the announce team. Hogan nervously walked over to the champ, only to be pushed back into the corner of the ring. He started to throw a punch, but stopped. Instead, he decided it would be best to lightly poke his opponent in the shoulder. Nash, of course, did what any good champion would do in that situation: Fall flat on his back, acting as if he was just knocked out. Hogan casually got down to the mat and pinned Nash. The newly reunited duo of Kevin Nash and Hulk Hogan spent the rest of allotted television time laughing at the fans.

Just in case you missed the “payoff” (climax), allow me to say it again: Hulk Hogan defeated Kevin Nash in five seconds by pushing him over with his finger. The two wrestlers then began to mock the very people who indirectly pay their salaries. It wasn’t exciting. It wasn’t even enjoyable. To most fans, the so-called “Finger Poke of Doom” was proof positive that WCW was going down the tubes. The next week, many of them switched over to Raw and never looked back. Within six months, Eric Bischoff would be “sent home,” a wrestling term that basically translates to “one step below being fired.” Within two and a half years, WCW would be sold to Vince McMahon for next to nothing. Ted Turner’s worst wrestling-related nightmare had finally come true.

…And there you have it. Come back tomorrow to see how this whole crazy thing ties together.

Note: I promised that I would have more to say about the Family Guy/Windows 7 “situation,” and I do. It’ll just take a few days to explain everything. So sit back, relax, and enjoy this Quick Lesson in Arrogance.

In the late 90’s, few things were cooler than professional wrestling. From 1996 to early 2002, fans filled arenas, gymnasiums, and bingo halls just to see their favorites do battle. While there are several reasons why wrestling was so big back then, we will only be focusing on the Monday Night War between WWE – known then as the WWF — and WCW. Before we get into the crux of our story, let us take a look at our “players.”

Vince K. McMahon – Third generation wrestling promoter and owner of the World Wrestling Federation. Vince is what is known as the entire package: Intelligent, cut throat, business savvy, and highly controversial. Some consider him to be a genius. Others say that he is the worst thing to ever happen to the wrestling industry. Most people, however, tend to inhabit the “gray area” that tends to exist between the two. At the time of this story, McMahon’s WWF is still the second biggest promotion in the country, but is gaining ground fast. On television, he is known as Mr. McMahon, an evil “corporate suit” that is out to ruin the career of his rival, “Stone Cold” Steve Austin.

Ted Turner – Media mogul and owner of the WWF’s main rival, WCW. For reasons that are way too complicated to explain here, McMahon and Turner are not on the best of terms. To put it simply, Ted Turner has one thing in mind: Put the WWF out of business. It has yet to happen, but he has come close on numerous occasions.

Eric Bischoff – An accountant turned announcer turned television producer responsible for booking (writing) all of WCW’s story lines and characters. Under his leadership, WCW went from a small promotion in Atlanta to the single most popular entity on cable television. Bischoff is also known for reading the results of Raw live on the air. He would then remind the audience that “unlike Raw, Nitro was live every single week.”

Vince Russo – A highly abrasive, highly polarizing figure partially responsible for the WWF’s “turn around.” His stories at time were filled to the brim with anti-heroes, sex, innuendo and enough swerves (plot twists) to even make film director/admitted twist ending lover M. Night Shyamalan jealous.

WWF Raw Is War - The WWF’s flagship program, airing every Monday night at nine on the USA Network. At the time of this story, Raw was only shown live twice a month. The “off-week” shows were then taped later in the week.

WCW Monday Nitro – WCW’s flagship program, airing every Monday night at eight on TNT. Unlike Raw, each episode of Nitro aired live.

Mick Foley – A fan favorite known for his wacky characters, engaging interviews, and the innate ability to withstand a ton of punishment.

Bill Goldberg – WCW’s top face (good guy), known primarily for his surprising 173 match winning streak.

…Now that you know all of the players, allow us to begin the story in earnest.

December 27th, 1998 – Goldberg’s streak is ended by fellow face Kevin Nash at WCW’s top pay-per-view of the year, Starrcade. While Nash himself did not cheat, several “illegal” techniques were employed supposedly on his behalf, including a stun gun, a cattle prod, and interference by real life best friend Scott Hall. The big Goldberg/Nash rematch is booked for the January 4th edition of Nitro.

December 28th, 1998 – Nash, who claimed that he had no idea that Hall interfered, granted Goldberg a rematch on January 4th.

December 29th, 1998 – Mick Foley, then wrestling as the masked Mankind, won the WWF World Title at Raw, slated to air January 4th.

January 4th, 1999; 8:00 PM – Goldberg is “arrested” for allegedly stalking legendary manager Miss Elizabeth and is immediately removed from the title match. Because of the Goldberg “situation,” Nash issued an open challenge to anyone “brave enough” to take him on. Said challenge was answered by one man: Wrestling legend and top heel (bad guy) Hulk Hogan. This was the first time that fans had seen Hogan since his “retirement” on The Tonight Show a few months prior.

January 4th, 1999; 10:00 PM – Under orders from Eric Bischoff, lead announcer Tony Schiavone read the following:

“Fans, don’t even think about changing the channel, because we’ve learned that Mick Foley, who used to wrestle here as Cactus Jack, is going to win [the WWF] world title! Heh, talk about putting asses in the seats.”

…And at that very moment, millions changed the channel just so they could bare witness to Mick Foley finally winning a world’s title.

Now as bad as it seems, WCW still had a proverbial “ace of their collective sleeves:” Kevin Nash versus Hulk Hogan. Sure, they might lose the quarter hour, but they were posed to win the night. If only things worked that way…

…And there you have it. Be sure to come back Monday to see the exciting conclusion.