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:
- It was the last thing anyone wanted to see.
- 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.
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Tuesday, December 1st, 2009
