At its best, music can make you dance, laugh, and think. As I take a listen to the current music of World Wrestling Entertainment, I can't help but do one of those things. You see, today's entrance themes are full of thoughtful lyrics. The other day, WWE entrance themes made me think about my own existence. Is life all about "The Game" and how I play it, or should live life for the moment instead? Well, it may be The Big Show, but is this life one "big show"? Am I the main character of a television program based on my life, much like The Truman Show? Or, do I play an supporting role in the life of another? I am usually the first critic in the history of critics to insult WWE for not thinking out of the box enough, but I am happy to say that they are deeper than I suspected. Maybe there is more to Vince McMahon and company than what my eyes can see. Honestly, I thought they were holograms at first. After analyzing their brand of professional wrestling for several years, at least I know these people are real.
Between criticizing WWE's taste in music and suggesting better songs for the company to use, I would like to take a step or two back and enjoy some choice selections in their 2009 music collection. Although I can only listen to so much Papa Roach and Saliva, I am open to hear what these songs of today have to say. As a writer, I take inspiration from anywhere. Give me a hopeful lyric and I will use it to create the next great article. Give me a heartbreaking line and I will channel it towards the saddest piece you will ever read. I ask a lot from WWE, but I don't want them to give me anything this week. This time, I want to give something back to WWE and its intergalactic WWE Universe. Since you deserve several pats on your several backs, I will not delay those pats any further. Let me send those pats to you post haste. I hope your backs accept the charges.
Beneath the hard shell of World Wrestling Entertainment lies a insightful, wrestling soul. In this revival of Entrance Theme Interpretations, I wish to open up this shell for your benefit, dear readers. WWE does not have time to reveal their wrestlers' innermost dreams and desires to you, but at the tender age of 172, I have all the time in the world to do this daunting task for them. I may not be a pleasant man. I may not be smart. In fact, I may be a man at all, but the least I can do is interpret today's entrance themes. That way, you can understand the pain and the pleasure that these wrestlers experience on a daily basis. They may be WWE Superstars, but they are human beings — just like you. I can't say that I am a human being per se, though. I recently found a wire in my forearm. I may be some sort of professional wrestling, analytic cyborg. Sweet.
While I try to figure out the meaning of professional wrestling's newest and truest songs, I would like you to join me. Don't be afraid. I will not hurt you. Supposedly, I am a cyborg constructed from scrap metal and spare computer parts, sent from the future to protect and inform you. The alien invasion will not be triumphant.
ECW's newest acquisition comes to you in the form of "The Moscow Mauler" Vladimir Kozlov. As you could gather from his first appearance on the show, he seeks global domination. By the look of his unique, Russian military costume, he looks as though he wants to fight in a Street Fighter tournament as well. Raul Julia has nothing on Vladimir Kozlov. Whether he accepts a fight in the street or a tussle in an avenue, I bet Vladimir Kozlov can defeat America’s own Jean Claude van Damme. All Vladimir has to do is win two out of the three rounds in an airplane hangar as a bunch of people watch him fight. If he does so, he will face a sumo wrestler in the finals. Best of luck to him. Plus, best of luck to myself as I try to translate this Russian song into English.
Singer: Russ Ian
Genre: Devilish Marching-Band Rock
Ja prinjos tebe bol'
(I have a bowl made out of a Pringles can. I will use this Pringles bowl in a war somehow. I will tempt the enemy with promises of Pringles potato chips, then kill them when they try to look inside the bowl.)
Ja tvoj koshmar
(I have a cashmere toy. I will use this in a war, too. For the enemies who do not die at the hands of my Pringles bowl, I will throw a cashmere toy at them. As they comment about the pleasing texture of the toy, I will hit them in the back of the head with the Pringles bowl.)
Ja tvoja problema i ty ejo ne hochesh'
(My plan will pose a problem if the enemy prefers Hostess snack cakes over Pringles potato chips.)
Ja prinjos tebe vojnu
(I have a whole crate of Pringles canisters in my van. I would use them all in the war, but I am hoping to build a Pringles fort in the future.)
Ja - skala, kotoruju ty ne sdvinesh'
(I have a scale that can weigh Scandinavians of most shapes and sizes.)
Ja prinjos Russkuju Spravedlivost'
(I got my Russian Pringles canisters spayed and neutered.)
U tebja net dostoinstva
(My pet tiger wants to get his doctorate online. I told him that it will be impossible, yet he will not quit.)
Ty nichto
(Even if my pet tiger gets his doctorate, he will be practising in a niche speciality, such as Stripe Allergy and Immunology.)
Ja smetu tebja so svoego puti
(My other pet tiger wants to become a professional golfer. Tigers as professional golfers have already been done.)
Kak budto tebja nikogda i ne bylo
(Regardless, I hope my other pet tiger gets sponsorship from a major brand like Nikon. They make quality digital cameras.)
Bol'! [x4]
(This Pringles bowl is my best friend. My friendship bracelet is a token of our undying unity.)
From a Some-Canadian Canadian to an All-American American, I hope and pray that World Wrestling Entertainment does not screw up Jack Swagger. With Swagger, they have themselves the love-child of Kurt Angle and Brock Lesnar. Like you, I always wondered which one was the man and which one was the woman in this proposed relationship. While Kurt has the caring nature of a woman, Brock has the build to carry their child. Either way, Jack Swagger would have had a tremendous upbringing, battling various animals on the Lesnar Family Farm in amateur wrestling matches.
Singer: Age Against the Machine's Singing Machine
Genre: Rapilicious Rock
Check, one-two
(Review this song once, then twice for added checking effect.)
Oh, yeah
(Oh, yes.)
Oh
(Oh.)
Check this [expletive] out
(Review and borrow this excrement from your public library.)
I got you where I want you
(I want you in Funkytown. I got you in Funkytown, son. Dang.)
Your clock's run out of time
(You use an hourglass to track time, rather than a watch. Every grain of sand in your hourglass has fell to the bottom. Digital watches don't do such a thing.)
'Cause you know I know you
(You are aware that I am not in favour of hourglasses. Years ago, an hourglass murdered my pet hamster. I have not forgiven it.)
And I'll show you that the heat you feel is mine
(I will rub myself against you to create fire. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but when I rub against you like a stick or a stone, sparks ignite.)
Yeah, fear it grips you, and it rips you
(Fear will sexually harass you, then talk in negative terms about you behind you're back. You should have pretended to enjoy fear's advances. Now you have to get along with fear in a tense working environment.)
And you question what is true
(You don't know what to do. If you report this instance of sexual harassment to human resources, you will be fired. If you do not, fear will continue to grope you in appropriate ways in appropriate places. It will reach around you while you're making coffee. Please make the right choice.)
So consider me your preacher, 'cause we'll explain it all to you
(Think of me as your Reverend D-Von because Reverend D-Von was D-Von Dudley's most successful gimmick. Reverend D-Von and Deacon Batista will help you cope with all this groping through prayer.)
Get on your knees
(I told you I would help you stop fear's sexual advances, but I never said I would help you stop mine. You sure have a purdy mouth.)
Get down on your knees
(Your mouth is really purdy.)
I'll bring you to my knees
(Get your purdy mouth over here.)
On your knees
(I want your purdy mouth at waist level. Let us say our sexy prayers.)
Oh
(Oh.)
Yeah
(Yes.)
That bead of sweat that drenched you
(That bead of sweat wasn't a bead of sweat, if you know what flag I'm saluting.)
Like all the lies that made you what you are
(Wait a second. Your purdy mouth was surgically enhanced to be purdy. What a purdy liar, you are.)
Politician, all talk but no conviction
(You are the John Kerry of charismatic human beings with purdy mouths.)
Always certain with no reason
(You don't know why you surgically enhanced your purdy mouth, but you did it anyway. How dare you.)
Like threats and fruit sold out of season
(You are like a strawberry in late April to early May... who uses threats meant for the summer. You know when you say, "I’m going to be your summer sun and burn you to a crisp"? Well, it's still spring. You can't use that threat yet.)
Now I've come to your confession, and to punish your transgression
(For your sins, I will put your purdy mouth to good use. You will become a purdy mouth model for various catalogues and magazines. Because I thought up the idea, I will receive a significant percentage of your pay.)
On your knees
(Get your purdy mouth at waist level. Don't make me grope you.)
I'll get you on your knees
(This threat is primarily used in the spring. So, I'm allowed to use it.)
Yeah
(I'm positive that I'm allowed to use it.)
I'll bring you to your knees
(Don't make me use a May-specific threat. Get your purdy mouth at waist level this instant.)
Oh
(Oh.)
On your knees
(You better dress up that purdy mouth of yours. It's sexy-praying time.)
Without Ezekiel Jackson by his side, I am worried about The Brian Kendrick's fate. After the WWE Draft, Monday Night RAW has become the Triple H Show featuring Randy Orton and the Shawn Michaels Singers. Ever since he appeared on WWE television as Spanky, I have been a fan of his work, but my support can only take The Brian so far. If his asymmetrical leather jacket had wings, I would tell Kendrick to fly himself to the main event, shattering the glass ceiling under the feet of the superstars of today in order to become the superstar of tomorrow. As I dissect his theme song, I will try to understand the meaning of his so-called "plan." I hope this plan involves breaking overhead panes of glass.
Singer: A Man Who Has a Plan
Genre: Man-Planning Rock
So listen up, good now, the general masses
(Pay attention to what I am about to plan, high-ranking officers in charge of mass armies.)
You ain't gotta note it in your high school classes
(For those high-ranking officers in charge of mass armies who are currently failing earth science, be glad that you do not have to duplicate my plan in writing. Continue learning about biochemical sedimentary rocks. Those rocks are fascinating and will help you later in life.)
'Cause it ain't written down if you know that it's true
(Truthful plans are never put in writing. At most, they appear as staircases on an Etch-A-Sketch.)
There's a lot of famous people with the sound of the new
(Several celebrities believe that my plan can be effective. Of course, the celebrities that I know are better than the ones that you know. For example, Paul London knows my plan. Checkmate.)
Well fame, they say can be a serious under
(Being famous like I am is equivalent to being a dramatic film star in Australia. Catch me in my next period-piece drama entitled, "Wilted Roses from Beckingham Bridge." I am the lone star of the film. The others are simply Australian people.)
So would you put the helmet on the afterburner?
(When asked, would you add cranium protection to the posterior of an F-18 fighter plane? It's going to get chilly and dangerous in the sky. Without a helmet, that F-18 fighter plane could catch a cold or function correctly.)
Story so far is one hell of a mess
(I am aware that the premise of this plan is convoluted, but think about the bunnies we will be saving. Did I tell you that my plan involves bunnies?)
So come and let me lead you through the wilderness
(I will be your Ranger Smith. You can be my Yogi. We can eat from the picnic basket as we watch the geysers.)
I'm a man with a plan
(I am a living and breathing male. I am a male who wants to propose a particular course of action.)
They come from all over saying, "Help me, please!"
(Anthropomorphic bears wearing porkpie hats approach me at my post, requesting my assistance in bear-related matters.)
I can't see the wood from the proverbial trees
(As a park ranger, the beauty of the trees, wavering in the breeze, soothes me. In turn, the fact that the trees are made out of wood does not inspire me at all. I'm weird like that.)
It ain't as simple as a minor compass
(Compared to a backup compass you use when your primary compass is broken, prolonged tree admiration is complex because it involves concentration, discipline, and the ability to distinguish trees from non-trees.)
Show the shadows in the alley getting ready to jump
(Apparently, the wilderness contains an alley. The shadows in this wild alley are lively. I hope you're not on your period, man and or woman and or child.)
The trick is to look with your head, now don't be blinded
(If you thought about looking at the shadows in this wild alley with your knees, you will be surprised. When you want to look at shadows in wild alleys, use body parts from the neck up to prevent permanent blindness.)
The people of the turf don't need to be reminded
(Pieces of steak know what to do when encountering shadows in wild alleys. Lobsters remain in the dark.)
A future guarantee — get outta here
(I can safely say that pieces of steak are smarter than lobsters. If you do not agree with me, take your things and leave. Ezekiel was the first to leave. Who wants to join him?)
I'm a man with a plan
(I am the opposite of a woman. I have the opposite of a woman's plan.)
Rhodes and DiBiase, otherwise known as Priceless, remind me of the great tag teams of yesteryear, such as Hawkins and Ryder. Now that they are Randy's right and left hand men in Legacy, we can only guess where their futures will take them. Perhaps Cody Rhodes will emulate his father by working hard with his hands. Maybe Ted DiBiase will hire Vincent as his man-servant. As one, Rhodes and DiBiase will no doubt succeed in WWE, working man-servants with their hands. May they spend a questionable and shirtless amount of time with one another for years to come.
Singer: The Will Smith of Hard Rockers
Genre: Rock, Drop and Roll
Yeah, I'm priceless
(Before you chime in with your opinion, I am already agreeing with the claim that I have no suggested retail price attached to my person.)
Oh baby, I'm priceless
(Oh infant, I have no suggested retail price attached to my person.)
There ain't no number by the power I possess
(The physical power I have within me cannot be bought in stores. For three easy payments of nothing, you can buy me by phoning the number on your screen. Time Life presents: Priceless.)
Oh no, or try this, call me priceless
(I thought I had made a mistake by calling the wrong number, but the operator tells me that I have phoned the correct number. For the next ten minutes, you can get not one, but two oily wrestlers in their mid-twenties for the price of one. Remember the code word: priceless.)
All you little people, cash didn't buy happiness
(Dear viewers who are less than four-feet, eleven inches tall; the money that you exchanged to purchase feelings of contentment towards your personal affairs was less than worth it. In the end, money can't buy happiness. You have to be born into a family of happiness.)
Yeah, I'm worth more than you could know
(My exact price cannot be calculated by an average human being. Please get some type of advanced chimpanzee to calculate my greatness. That chimpanzee better have glasses.)
'Cause all you know is what you see
(Your level of comprehension is based on material things. Do not treat me like a chair. I am not a chair. A chair has four legs, while I only have two. There's a difference.)
'Cause you're all blind to who I am
(Within the past two seconds, you lost your sense of sight. Now, you really can't do math with your eyes, but imagine the amount of poking you'll end up doing with a stick. You have to find your way around everyday obstacles somehow.)
So all you see is a mystery
(So all you see is Evolution. Where's Hunter, Flair, and Batista, though? Where are the ladies in the Evolution video who are paid to pretend to like them? If they could pretend to like me, that would be great.)
'Cause I'm priceless
(To reiterate what I said earlier, I still have no suggested retail price attached to my person.)
Yeah, I'm priceless
(I'm pretty insecure about my observation, so I will continue to agree with myself. That way, it looks as though this observation is fairly popular and factual.)
Oh, priceless
(Let's discuss the lack of suggested retail prices on beings other than myself. For example, I am priceless.)
A masterpiece that words can not assess
(I am a version of Chris Masters who cannot be understood in English. The people of Swahili know what I'm saying.)
Whoa money, your cash is lifeless
(Hold on, dollar bills and cents. If you are money and you use money to purchase me, you will not succeed. Plus, you shouldn't use your kind like that. Money has been oppressed by the bartering system for far too long. Money should stick together.)
But you keep buying more and more just to impress
(I am going to insert an awkward criticism of modern society here. I do not advocate consumerism, but please buy as much Legacy merchandise as you can. I have to feed my non-existent children.)
Yeah, I'm worth more than you could know
(My exact price cannot be calculated by an advanced chimpanzee either. Please get some sort of genius dolphin that can use sound waves to detect my level of greatness. That dolphin better wear a mortarboard.)
'Cause all you know is what you see
(Your level of comprehension is based on material things. Therefore, what is the cost of one hundred bottles of cocoa butter? Multiply that by two and you might get a general estimate of Priceless' overall cost.)
'Cause you're all blind to who I am
(You regained your sense of sight, but you lost it again in a knife-fight with pirates. You can't see me right now because you are wearing an eyepatch over each eye.)
So all you see is a mystery
(Even though are wearing two eyepatches, you can detect shadows. Like Priceless, you are currently in the shadow of Evolution. During the summertime, use Batista for shade.)
'Cause I'm priceless
(I have no suggested retail price attached to my person. Don't bother trying to buy me with food stamps. Whatever number of food stamps you have, I am not impressed.)
Oh baby, I'm priceless
(Oh, infant in your infantile crib with your infantile understanding of prices. I have no suggested retail price attached to my person.)
Whenever R-Truth raps his way down to the ring, I feel like rapping my way through life. I am no R-Truth, but I think I have the God-given abilities to be S-Lie. As S-Lie, I rap very well. On the other hand, listeners are weary about the majority of the claims in my songs. S-Lie wants you to know that global warming was invented by the government as a means to melt ice cream cones and sandwiches at a faster rate so children would have to buy more ice cream products. Don't believe me? You don't, right? See what I mean. Unlike R-Truth, I am not that convincing.
Singer: Ron "R-Truth" Killings
Genre: Honest Gangster Rap
What's up?
(What exists in the upwards direction?)
Stand up and say, "What's up?
(Stand up to bring yourself closer to the upwards direction, then ask, "What exists in the upwards direction?")
What's up? What's up? What's up? Whoa
(What exists in the upwards direction? What exists in the upwards direction? What exists in the upwards direction? Thesis statement: what exists in the upwards direction is rather alarming.)
People over there, what's up?
(For those of you who are not standing near me, could you please tell me what exists in the upwards direction?)
Feel me, stand up, say, "What's up?"
(Engage physical contact, stand up to bring yourself closer to the upwards direction, then ask "What exists in the upwards direction?")
What's up? [x8]
(What exists in the upwards direction? I'm asking this question eight times because I have not yet received a satisfactory and definitive answer to my question.)
You can get with this, or you can get with that
(You can have sexual relations with this concept, or you can have sexual relations with concepts other than this one. Don’t be picky. You’re not getting any younger.)
You better come get with this, 'cause this is where it's at
(I've changed my mind. I demand that you have sexual relations with the concept I have presented to you. This concept is more sexually attractive than others.)
What's up [x8]
(Once more, could somebody tell me what exists in the upwards direction? I have a thirst for knowledge about these type of things. Your inability to answer my question makes me thirsty.)
I be skippin' and jumpin' and leaving the competition
(My excursion through these grassy fields at the 2009 World Grassy-Field-Walking Championships will be reminiscent of a eight-year-old girl's carefree frolic through a meadow. My particular method will trump my fellow competitors' grassy field walking techniques.)
Makin' 'em disappear like your favourite magician
(When it comes to the 2009 World Grassy Field-Walking Championships, professional magicians are no match for me. My moves are so professional that they will put David Copperfield's face on the side of a milk carton.)
I will ride that [expletive] 'til the wheels fall off
(If David Copperfield moonlights as a vehicle that has occasional relations with his mother, I will use him as my primary form of transportation until he becomes less than 100% operational.)
And I bounce 'em back to back 'til they necks get soft
(If that hypothetical David Copperfieldmobile loses its wheels in a freak car accident, I will use those stray wheels as basketballs. Bouncing one in each hand, I will wow the other magic vehicles with my basketball skills until they suffer short-term neck injuries. If David Blaine doubles as a pick-up truck, watch out.)
Most of the time you see me, I'm trying to keep it simple
(Every ninth Smackdown, you can witness my attempts to unravel two of my forty dreadlocks. Do not ask me to unravel three because Smackdown is no more than two hours long.)
These are the type of people to get popped like a pimple
(I am not willing to use Noxzema and Proactiv on magicians such as David Copperfield and David Blaine, no matter if they can turn into motor vehicles or not. When they want to get rid of unsightly blemishes on their faces, they must use unorthodox and sometimes messy alternatives.)
Statin' my claim to fame
(I will become famous for denying skin treatments to world-renowned magicians.)
To be one of the baddest-ass [expletive] to step foot in the game
(I will become of the most ruthless skin-treatment deniers those world-renowned magicians have ever seen in one play-through of Skin-Treatment Denial: The Board Game.)
And I haven't even started yet
(I haven't played Skin-Treatment Denial: The Board Game before. Do we have all the necessary pieces and cards?)
But you can better believe I'm-a yank it off a sure-shot bet
(It would be preferable if you were in agreement with the notion that I am able to win a round of Skin-Treatment Denial: The Board Game by yanking everyone and everything in sight.)
What's up? [x6] Say, "Whoa!"
(I understand that you have been trying to get an answer about what exists in the upwards direction for a few minutes now. I applaud your resiliency. Also, I continue to find your efforts alarming.)
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