Steel Cage Death Match of…uh…Death…Match.
Mammal Viper Edition.

Television as a communications medium has mostly been a target for commentators who recall, if dimly and in black and white, the days when there were 13 channels of which one was a subsidized “public broadcast station”, one each went to CBS, ABC, and NBC, and the remainder were parsed out to whatever wacky local media corporations had a little money and a big dream. Old cranky white guys with pot bellies and pinstripe suits were the designated “critics” of TV content. These guys had perspectives, depending on birth dates, derived from the first world war that begat the great depression and the second world war, which lived on in China, Korea, most of Africa, and eventually “Indochina” and Vietnam (I believe early in the Vietnam wars, when the French were desperately trying to hold the “colony” and the U.S. was represented by a few but steadily-trickling-in “military advisors”, that remnant P-51 piston-engine fighters from WW2 actually saw service, see HYPERLINK "http://everything2.com/e2node/P-51%2520Mustang" http://everything2.com/e2node/P-51%2520Mustang , which was a weird link back to World War 2 given the technological advances that had kicked most military aircraft into the jet age). For whatever reasons, our chubby, boozy writers decided en masse that theatrical drama, musical theater, movies (referred to as “films” for the erudition presumed to be associated with the more “formal” term), books, magazines, newspapers, and broadcast radio all rated well ahead of television in terms of acceptability. That would, of course, be “acceptability” as defined by the overweight wheezy white guys in ties. Basically, television was reviled.

Superficially, this might seem almost inevitably, tritely, tautologically appropriate. TV, after all, was the medium that brought you the Marlboro Man, Lucille Ball, Red Skelton, the Three Stooges, Mr. Ed, Sky King and Penny. Depressingly, almost freakishly, lowbrow when the baseline is Bernard Shaw, Lerner and Lowe, Alfred Hitchcock, Fritz Lang, William Faulkner, et al.

But. But. TV also brought The Prisoner, I Spy, Get Smart, JFK’s assassination, Vietnam, Crusader Rabbit, The World At War, Victory At Sea, Max Headroom, Twin Peaks, and Lost.

Let’s call it a draw. A big bucket of bad, awful, trite, derivative, mawkish slop balanced against a pail full of technology with limitless horizons as a medium of artistic expression and communication. Except for this: Celebrity Death Match. The ultimate state-of-the-art entertainment, the very definition of wry irony (uh…”wry irony”. On top of sounding like pedantic bullshit, it occurs to me that it’s redundant. I think. If you are “wry”, are you not “ironic”? Lemme dig around and see if there’s a dictionary down there…oh, yeah, nice catch, Doc, thank you very much. Per the 1992 hard-copy of the American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, “wry” means “dryly humorous, often with a touch of irony…temporarily twisted…abnormally twisted…being at variance with what is right, proper, or suitable; perverse”. Kick-Ass, on top of “irony” as “incongruity”. Oof. Talk about bloated. I thought we’d never get the hell out of this parenthetical). Meanwhile, back at the lunch counter in Trenton, New Jersey…

Celebrity death match. Horrific, bloody, beyond tasteless claymation operation pitting celeb v. celeb in a first-one-to-die-is-the-loser format.

Absolutely hilarious, of course. From Death Bowl ’98 where Kathy Lee Gifford was melted by Howard Stern’s corrosive flatulence in a bout refereed by Marv Albert to six seasons later when Danica Patrick decapitated Anna Kournikova with a headbutt but lost the bout when Kournikova lived long enough to throw her own head at Patrick, decapitating her in turn.

Yeah. That kind of tasteless mayhem. But in the best possible way.

So here’s the deal. I’m takin’ a dump and leafing through the definitive two-volume fourth edition of Walker’s Mammals of the World by Ron Nowak and John Paradiso. I come to the entry for Tasmanian Devil. I recall the Looney Tunes cartoon whirlwind Tasmanian Devil of Death, and wonder how that bad boy would match up with a wolverine, biggest and evilest soldier in the Mustellidae, the weasel family, generally acknowledged to be the biggest and evilest creatures this side of Alien. Or Predator. Or, honestly, this side of ANY smack-down, drag-out, big-honkin' bad-ass critter on earth.

Round 1. Tasmanian Devil vs. Wolverine. In the red corner: the Tasmanian Devil. Sarcophilus harrisii. Per Nowak and Paradiso: "The general form, except for the tail, resembles that of a small bear." Sounds promisingly powerful. "The head is...covered with masses of muscle; the skull and teeth are extremely massive and rugged. The molar teeth are...heavy bone crushers...".






Tasmanian Devil

And in the blue corner: the Wolverine. Gulo gulo. "It seems to be unexcelled in strength among mammals...and has been reported to drive bears and cougars from their kills." That's pretty badass.





Wolverine

The wolverine "can maintain a gallop for a lengthy period...large mammals such as reindeer, roe deer, and wild sheep are taken...". Oof. A couple body blows to the marsupial. Who comes off the mat and "can seem quite vicious." But there's trouble in the red corner. "...others are more tractable...[a researcher from the University of Tasmania--there's a "University of Tasmania"???] reported that most of the over 7,000 Tasmanian Devils he handled were docile to the point of being lethargic...".

Oof. Round 1 to the Wolverine by a unanimous decision of the judges.

"And what's that? A challenge from the audience? Can we...judges, do we...YES, the judges accept the challenge from the mezzanine. How do you call yourself, stranger?"

"They call me...the Honey Badger."

"Honey Badger? Honey Badger? Doesn't sound credible. Too sweet. Too goopy. Not a viable competitor at all. Sorry. Sorry. You'll just have to..."

"ENOUGH!!! I AM Mellivora capensis, the Honey Badger aka Ratel, AND I AM HERE TO KICK SOME SERIOUS WOLVERINE BUTT."

Lessee, lessee, honey badger, honey badger, Nowak and Paradiso 4th edition page 1005: "...heavily built...the forefeet are large, and armed with very large and strong claws...the skull is massive and the teeth are robust...there are anal glands that secrete a vile smelling liquid. This combination of characters provides an effective system of deterrence and defense...Mellivora is very difficult to kill...the skin is so tough that a dog can make little impression except on the belly...the ratel can twist about in its skin, so it can even bite an adversary that has seized it by the back of the neck...porcupine quills and bee stings have little effect and snake fangs are rarely able to penetrate...devoid of fear...horses, antelope, cattle, and even buffalo have been attacked and severely wounded...it is...incredibly strong and energetic, and it can wreck cages and damage property...".





Honey Badger

Yikes. Looks like a no-brainer. Honey Badger eleven, everything else zero. Maybe we'll have to just bring back Danica Patrick and Anna Kournikova for a rematch.