Review of Savage 1986-2011 in Verbicide (US)

"Moore is a talented writer, and Savage 1986-2011 showcases his writing very well because it’s at once sharp, strange, and powerful. There are some exciting things happening in Canadian fiction right now, and Moore, along with this novel, is a great place to start for anyone who’s interested in what’s being written right above us, or just for anyone who enjoys good writing." Verbicide Magazine


http://verbicide.tumblr.com/post/87197194610/nathaniel-g-moore-is-a-talented-writer-and

Review in THE WINNIPEG REVIEW

Reviewed by Josh Rioux

Anyone who’s old enough to miss being a kid will be familiar with this certain conversation I’m about to bring up. It comes up randomly among friends close in age and background, usually when the drinks and conversation are on the wane and people start getting reflective. It begins when somebody mentions either a toy they had as kids or their favourite cartoon or else  a record their mom used to put on every Saturday morning while they played in the living room; then suddenly the energy sharpens and everyone is jumping in with material from their own childhood—action figures, after-school shows, the particulars of unsupervised rec room brinksmanship… Whatever comes up, there’s a rush of feeling for the shared micro-generational kidscape expressed in the way the group spontaneously recreates it out of pieces of themselves on the spot, a feeling that’s as close to an experience of a collective spiritual bond as many of us are likely to have.

This runs deeper than any nostalgic attachment to the products associated with one’s respective cohort, although that’s how we tend to talk about it.  Because it’s not really that, say, He-Man was an awesome toy or that Battle-Damage He-Man was even awesomer if a little weird with that chest wound you could rotate to make increasingly, like, fatal, but that He-Man was something that happened on the floor behind the couch between 8 and 10:30 every weekend morning during the years 1986 and ’87, with the mingled impressions of percolating coffee and slanting winter sunlight braiding a sort of marrow-deep net of memory that’s impossible to separate from your own deepest sense of home and belonging.

We’re all geographers of our own childhoods, but it’s lonely work, isn’t it? Because in a way just having grown up makes each of us by definition the sole exile of our own little lost world, which we carry around inside ourselves in museum form. The compulsion to reach down into those weirdly thrumming places is I think what underlies a lot of the impulse to memoir, but the danger is that you’re ultimately just telling someone a childhood’s worth of dreams, where the symbols are private and tangled and maybe even untranslatable. We talk about the toys because that’s all we really share for sure, because we can’t taste the madeleine with someone else’s tongue.

Presented as a fifteen-year span of diary entries grouped opaquely under twenty-four New Order song titles, Nathaniel G. Moore’s Savage 1986-2011 chronicles the young Nate Moore’s sexually-confused teens and post-adolescent mental breakdown with the kind of unfocused yet hyper-detailed fervour that sells its diary presentation almost too convincingly. The lost world in question is 161 Glenvale Blvd, a home in the central Toronto neighbourhood of Leaside that Moore evokes as a kind of shag-carpeted Labyrinth to his monstrous, basement-bound youth.

Nate is a sensitive, witty kid who loves George Michael, the WWF, and his camcorder, which he places between himself and his world compulsively, racking up shelves of tape like hard copies of his own rapidly accumulating baggage. Roughly twelve years old when Savage opens, he has two parents and a sister and a cat and a best friend, and Moore summons it all up around us in lambent, elastic prose. Check this introduction to his father, David, whose relationship to Nate is one of the twin axes of the book:

Every morning I saw him, Dad appeared only half-lit; on mute, a stale, predawn musk trickling from his mouth, a mouth full of grown-man realities: failed mouthwash, under-brushed teeth, overlooked food particles… This was our Dad; always, first thing, first light, with the rising morning air and the house yawning alive and his first cigarette to set the mood.

The early chapters are anchored by Nate’s relationship with best friend Andrew, the second axis. Their friendship is based around road hockey, pro wrestling, and much hetero porn, and it’s immediately clear Nate loves Andrew with the sort of painful yearning particularly sensitive kids on the ridge of puberty can have for their same-sex friends… or at least it seems as straightforward as that, until their chumming takes an out-of-nowhere left turn into exchanging handjobs during a weekend at Andrew’s family cottage.

Andrew both captivates and antagonizes Nate, and as he nudges their experimentation further along, the obvious power imbalance between the two brings a disturbingly coercive vibe to what might otherwise feel like a sexual awakening. You start to wonder what exactly is going on here; it seems clear that Andrew is gay, but is Nate? Or is he just desperate enough for the love of his friend that he’ll take it however offered?

As if that weren’t enough for one memoiristic novel, Moore cuts to the home front, where we’re introduced to the family’s brand of domestic violence with a scene so random and inexplicable that I actually leafed back through the previous chapters to see if I’d missed some sort of buildup, foreshadowing, anything really. In the middle of a Saturday morning, Nate observes his parents arguing over his father’s mission to expand the zucchini patch in the yard, and something snaps in Nate. He attacks his father, which leads to a stomach-churning scene in the driveway that has no centre, no up-or-down order to it; Nate beats David with a wooden tea tray, his mother tells David Nate’s scaring them, David tells his wife to call the police– and when the situation resolves with the police arriving and David going off to stay with relatives, Nate receives a visit from Child Services in which his mother seems to point to Nate’s violence as the problem in the home, while Nate writhes in fury and blames his father. The scene feels hideously real and yet makes absolutely no sense; it’s like your first sleepover at a new friend’s house just happening to take place the night his family explodes, and there’s no one there who can tell you what the hell’s going on.

From there Nate and David circle each other in a pattern of physical and psychic violence that, as the incidents intensify over time, comes to carry the unmistakable tang of gene-deep insanity. The encounters between the two are narrated in a jittery, overlit prose that sickens in exactly the way it should.

Dad went for my throat, and I went soft. I just didn’t want this, not this time, and went limp as he clamped down. My face teared up, all red inside and out, feeling fucked up and dead, smelling his calloused hands still firmly clasped around my stupid neck. My brain was pissing itself in sadness, and I couldn’t decide what had lit the powder keg this time.

There’s something to the way Moore channels these scenes in all their fevered chaos that really captures how the presence of violence in a home becomes a sort of ambient force that’s both inside and outside everyone involved, an evil that brings monster and victim out in everyone and renders all damage sourceless and indivisible. It’s truly powerful stuff, and yet, as with his relationship with Andrew, in place of the kind of hard-fought self-analysis you might expect from a narrative like this, the authorial Moore approaches the story almost as though he’s as uncertain of where to look as his camcorder-wielding younger self, panning to each corner of his life in succession and simply hitting record.

The result is a lot of beautifully rendered observation and almost zero insight into the roots of all this suffering. Is David a violent drunk, as Nate accuses, or is Nate the family time-bomb, as we see in that first scene and in others—as even his mother reports to Child Services—or is it both? Savage makes it all too clear that this is a family with no perspective on what plagues it; what’s less clear is what Moore himself intends us to believe, or even the extent to which he has any deeper understanding whatsoever.

As the boys age into their late teens, Andrew begins to pull away from Nate, and the loss drives Nate into a deep social withdrawal that strands him at home with his camcorder and his increasingly toxic family. He draws a parallel between his loss of Andrew and the splitting up of the WWF-dominating tag-team of Hulk Hogan and “Macho Man” Randy Savage, and spends weeks editing together a video montage of his and Andrew’s taped shenanigans intercut with footage of the wrestlers in action and scored to George Harrison’s “All Those Years Ago,” which he leaves inside Andrew’s screen door in a gesture of pure teen romantic morbidity.

One of the last clips was Andrew and I in low-fi (and low-lit) resolution racing our remote control cars on the street with jagged lightning beckoning the night. Andrew had left because of the pending rain, but I remained outside, filming the lightning from the safety of the garage, sitting on a discarded couch while the camcorder wheezed in and out of focus, sounding blind and frightened, watching the jagged storm scar the night and lick the houses.

Nate’s heartbreak accelerates the disintegration of his mental health. Eventually high school runs its course and his parents divorce, selling the house and leaving Nate to couch-surf and experiment with self-harm. The second half of Savage shuffles by in a haze of prescription meds and bizarre, free-associated rants directed at his parents, at us, at the world, melting the reading experience and the narrator’s into a surreal reduction. The gaps between dates grow. Nate drifts in and out of university and consciousness; Nate stabs himself with a steak knife; Nate struggles to find work; Nate harangues his mother with accusations of abandonment; Nate OD’s on his pills, possibly intentionally, in the presence of his father.

Although watching Nate thrash around in medicated anguish is as tragic as anything in the first half of Savage, something is lost when Moore takes the story out of Leaside. There’s a joylessness to the prose in this section that has nothing to do with the darkness of the material–which is no darker than anything that came before, really–and for the first time the episodes start to feel simply reported, as though Moore himself is becoming exhausted with the material. You keep waiting for some resolution, for Nate to finally see what happened between him and Andrew, between him and his father, but it never comes. The closest thing we get to reflection regarding his experience with Andrew comes in the voice of a hectoring ex-girlfriend leaving harassing phone messages years later, and goes entirely uncommented on:

“I don’t believe Andrew abused you, you are such a whining coward. You totally participated in it and you were sad when he was married. When we played badminton, you admitted you had been in love with him–it was an abuse you very much enjoyed–enough to repeat it with me—”

His father gets something both less and more; in place of outside analysis, we get an extended scene of a melancholy Christmas visit, just Nate and Dad, years later, the water under the bridge and the bridge itself washed away. Maybe it’s the memoiristic pose of the novel itself that nudges us to expect explicit revelations, when the lack thereof might just be more realistic. It’s enough to suggest that Moore’s purpose here has never been to plumb the many possible sources of Nate’s mental illness, to shake down the past for answers or even hints.

The way the pace of the book slows as the time between episodes expands, the way Moore intercuts Nate’s personal disintegration with his loss of family members, the decline of his beloved Macho Man, the way the life seems to drain out of the book, evokes nothing more than the mauling of people by time. From this angle, the Christmas visit to his father’s trailer, the little pointless loving details, the suspended quiet of all that pain, still present but settled like dust, is an illustration of the victory of time over trauma by nothing more than raw attrition.

Late in the book, when Nate has secured some form of adult stability, writing for a wrestling website and on speaking terms with his family, Nate sends a postcard to his old address, which he explains by saying “I wanted to contact the house, in its most current form. Also, I’m a ghost.” Both the act and the explanation resonate.

Savage is most alive when bounded within Nate’s childhood home. If that seems improbable given the things that went on there, that apparent paradox might be the most compelling takeaway Moore has to offer us. There’s a tight-chested glow to the way he places himself back there–the countless descriptions of pushing VHS cartridges into VCRs, the giddy recounting of his and Andrew’s antebellum good times, the warmly obsessive details like Nate remembering the way Andrew phrased his phone number the first time Nate heard it—that manages to invert a story of abuse and crippling alienation into a love letter to a childhood home, ultimately upending the presumed purpose of a fictional dysfunction memoir entirely. Savage isn’t an exorcism: it’s a haunting. It’s a world that can only really be known by one person, written back into being to be shaken alive and looked deeply into, to be held and walked around in and inhaled.

In Savage‘s heartbroken coda, Nate stages a series of fantasy interview questions for the Macho Man himself, now (significantly) post-mortem, as an open-veined three-am-collect-call gush of memory and unresolved feeling, bringing up his father, Andrew, his family’s disintegration, his history of fandom, and his OD. It’s by far the most powerful moment in the book, almost single-handedly redeeming its at times bloated-feeling 270-odd pages, and, in acting out that heart-deep grasping at the symbols of our buried pasts—for nostalgia, for answers, for recognition—it manages to suggest a lot about why we, the orphan children of this homesick culture, cling inwardly to otherwise ephemeral pop products. Nathaniel G. Moore is the creator–if not the possessor–of one impressively fucked-up past; what Savage points to is the mystery of what drags us heedlessly back there.


Anvil | 280 pages |  $20.00 | paper | ISBN # 978-1927380550

Shelf Unbound April / May 2014 

In dieser Ausgabe von Shelf Unbound gibt es fünf kurze Auszüge aus Büchern, zwei davon Übersetzungen aus dem Spanischen und Französischen. Jedes dieser Bücher hat eine Zusammenfassung von 140 oder weniger Zeichen, um zu zeigen, wie man Buchbeschreibungen twittern kann. Die Bücher sind Navidad & Matanza von Carlos Labbé, How’s The Pain von Pascal Garnier, Savage: 1986-2011 von Nathaniel G. Moore, The Boy In His Winter: An American Novel von Norman Lock, Family Feeling von Jean Ross Justice.

http://issuu.com/shelfunbound/docs/shelf_unbound_april-may_2014

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=34u_3Z9_LUw

The Tweet: Twenty-five years of drama in the life of a middle-lcass Toronto family, as seen through the eyes of Nate, a high school senior obsessed with a pro wrestler.

Review in BROKEN PENCIL #63

Savage 1986-2011
Nathaniel G. Moore, 275 pgs, Anvil Press, anvilpress.com, $20.00 CAN

The title of Toronto writer (and former Broken Pencil assistant editor) Nathaniel Moore’s new novel comes in part from the dyspeptic young protagonist Nate, who looks to pro wrestler/circus geek Randy “Macho Man” Savage as a fashion icon and masculine ideal. But the book’s title is also meant to evoke Nate himself: inadequately socialized, indifferently parented and generally ill-equipped to negotiate the arid, low-rent-Cheever inner suburbs of late-20th-century Hogtown.

Front and center in Nate’s anguished teenage years are his mortician father — sepulchral, withholding and sporadically violent — and his best/only friend Andrew, who selfishly leverages Nate’s neediness into an intimacy to which Nate may not be able to meaningfully consent. The imposition and subsequent withdrawal of these twin emotional sledgehammers sends Nate down a decade-long solipsistic rabbit hole of isolation, pilled-out nihilism and ultimately suicidal self-destruction. Much as Moore’s rendering of the psychogeography of his native stomping ground reads as purely autobiographical, the intensive details of Nate’s misery reads as cringe-inducingly honest and uncommonly brave.

Crucially, Savage never quite makes Nate out to be the victim of chilly wasp maltreatment. A societal spiritual vacuity, plus his own wonky brain chemistry (and a feckless mental health community) are villains in this story as well. And we wonder if he isn’t a little TOO keen, in the words of his sassy and grounded older sister, on “manufacturing hate” — wallowing in his own unreliably-narrated tendencies, and being a drama queen. Still, even if he might be slightly complicit in his own (genuine) pain, we are fully invested in his efforts to surmount it, to grow into some measure of functional heteronormal personhood.

Savage succeeds best as a showcase for Moore’s convulsively unbridled prose acrobatics. Like a punch-drunk anti-Hemingway, he tosses around verbiage like Pollock flung paint: promiscuously, recklessly. There’s little joy in what he describes, but much joy — and improbable gobs of humour — in the describing. (Paul Duder)

Family Magazine : The Hoax Non-Fiction Recylcing Issue 

Family Magazine : The Hoax Non-Fiction Recylcing Issue 

Recent Reviews

"With its multiplicity of domestic settings and kaleidoscopic mix of wrestlers, Christians, truth, evil, George Michael, masturbation, sibling rivalry, the mental health system in Canada, New Order, eventual redemption, Savage 1986-2011 is a memorable memoir packaged as a novel, not to be read by candle light too close to your own family’s powder keg of secrets."  
- HTML GIANT

"The story arc is a unique look at one family member’s recollection of his rise and fall and of a messy nuclear family meltdown with bouts of hope, lust, power, love and corruption all fountaining out in loud Technicolor."
- Paper Darts

"Written in lilting poetic prose, the narrative provides a startlingly accurate portrait of young adulthood." 
- Rabble

"The "Nate" growing up in a wildly dysfunctional family in the Toronto district of Leaside may or may not be the author’s self-portrait: many things match what Moore has revealed of his real life, some things don’t. But if even half of what’s here is true in essence, then it is a work of remarkable frankness, even courage."
- The Montreal Gazette

"Savage 1986-2011 is a reminder that no love is easy, and scars might never fade, but they can heal. Better, they may even end up transformed, like so many blue Mondays made into art"
- The National Post

"In the end Nathaniel G. Moore’s Savage 1986-2011 is a fascinating artistic tribute to Randy Savage that will not only interest wrestling fans, but also anyone who remembers what it was to live life over that same 25-year period, grow as a person, and become more than they were."  
- Slam! Wrestling

"Savage 1986-2011, it is the pretext of de-masking, the promise of the memoir that proliferates a sputtering of identities, fictions, narratives, and lesser masks, each vibrating in different tensions. A field of distortion that is not honest, per se, but is designed to reveal conflicts and instabilities, the glue that holds haphazardly together. As Nate himself finally realizes, there can be no discharge of the powers of representation. No kill switch, no way to pin your opponent and end the match. Savage 1986-2011 is a memoir that lives its fiction as a crime against itself—as a futility of fact and a symptom of truth’s adolescent promise.”
- Trish Low, Lemonhound

Nathaniel G. Moore is the creator–if not the possessor–of one impressively fucked-up past; what Savage points to is the mystery of what drags us heedlessly back there. The Winnipeg Review “Moore is a talented writer, and Savage 1986-2011 showcases his writing very well because it’s at once sharp, strange, and powerful. There are some exciting things happening in Canadian fiction right now, and Moore, along with this novel, is a great place to start for anyone who’s interested in what’s being written right above us, or just for anyone who enjoys good writing.” Verbicide Magazine

Audio podcast from Savage 1986-2011

Wrestlemania 2 : George Steele

Date: April 7, 1986 …. This is 1986 and the SAVAGE ELBOW only gets two? ….

Hogan vs Iron Sheik MSG 1984
WM 1 Main Event 1985
Hogan vs Piper War to Settle the Score 1985
Hogan vs Savage 1986 
Hogan vs Orndorff Big Event 1986
Hogan vs Orndorff SNME 1987
WM 3 Main Event
Hogan vs Andre The Main Event 1988
Hogan vs Harley Race SNME 1988
Mega Powers vs Andre and DiBiase Summerslam 1988
Mega Powers vs Akeem and Bossman The Main Event 1989
Hogan vs Savage WM 5
Hogan vs Bossman The Main Event 1989
Hogan vs Savage The Main Event 1990
Hogan vs Warrior WM 6
Hogan vs Perfect SNME 1990
Hogan vs Undertaker Survivor Series 1991
Hogan vs Undertaker This Tuesday in Texas 1991
Hogan vs Flair Bash at the Beach 1994
Hogan vs Vader 1995
Bash at the Beach 1996 
Fall Brawl 1996
Hogan vs Luger Nitro 1997
Hogan vs Sting Starrcade 1997
Hogan vs Goldberg Nitro 1998
Hogan vs The Rock WM X8
Hogan vs HHH Backlash 2002
Hogan vs Taker 2002
Hogan vs Brock Lesnar Smackdown 2002
Hogan vs Vince WM XIX
Hogan vs HBK Summerslam 2005

The Undertaker says slam. 

1 hours ago - In May 1986, during an episode of Saturday Night’s Main Event, Roberts delivered a DDT to … feud with Randy Savage in 1986, many fans would cheer for Roberts instead of Savage and Roberts …. Wrestlers That Shocked The Public In 2011. Randy “Macho Man” Savage and Jake would play with a snake again on Saturday Night’s Main Event in late 1991. The Cobra was devenomrized. “Maybe you want to get rid of the Macho Man Snake Man!” Randy told Jake and Vince beforehand. Roddy Piper was scared. 
Jake took advantage of the distraction by blindsiding Savage, clotheslining him off the apron to the floor. Roberts followed him to the outside, rammed his arm into the post, and rolled him into the ring where he tied Savage into the ring ropes and delivered a series of knees. Jake went for the bag and, as the audience held its breath, he opened it up and out of the bag poured a real live king cobra. Jake picked up the cobra and walked over to where Savage was tied in the ropes and, in a shocking visual, the cobra bit Savage on the arm.

The amazing reality of the situation was that not only was this a real king cobra, but it was really biting Savage. In order to make it look real, Savage agreed to make it real and allow the snake to legitimately attack him. The cobra latched onto his injured arm and began chewing away, drawing a flow of blood down Savage’s arm. The cobra was sunk in deep and, with the blood leaking out of his wounded arm, Savage helplessly writhed as the reptile continued to dig into him. The line between work and shoot blurred again here, as Jake began trying to pull the snake off of Savage, but it wouldn’t let go. Roberts began shaking the snake, kayfabing it to look like he was trying to get it to bite harder, but he was actually trying to shake it loose of Savage.
Read more at http://www.411mania.com/wrestling/columns/51662/That-Was-Then-3.23.07:-True-Feats-Of-Manliness—-The-Randy-Savage-Snakebite-Incident.htm#ABCZC28iuX4Ve67M.99


Originally Posted by Demonique  
Oh, the Snake Bites - YouTube

I’ve just discovered this video of a wrestling match from the 90s. Jake the snake Roberts holding an angry king cobra which proceeded to bite the crap out of Randy Savage.

Is this a real (albeit venomoid King) or just an elaborate fake? (Looks pretty real to me though)


From comments on the video the snake died about a week after the match (guess it couldn’t handle the roids)
http://www.amazon.com/Savage-1986-2011-Nathaniel-G-Moore/dp/1927380553/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1394995317&sr=8-2&keywords=savage+1986

http://www.amazon.com/Savage-1986-2011-Nathaniel-G-Moore/dp/1927380553/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1394995317&sr=8-2&keywords=savage+1986
Heh I remember this the first time around, yes it was in fact a real a Cobra and yes it was void of it’s venom. Jake the Snake (if I’m correct) had difficulty removing the snake from Randy Savages arm and the whole thing kinda went along more than it should’ve done. The snake did indeed die shortly later and Randy Savage proclaimed (as a joke) that the snake had been envenomed from Randy Savage during the bite.

Oh dear yes I was a WWF fan as a kid 

I must say I’ve not watched your clip Youtube craps this old lappy out so I could be looking like an idiot and it’s a different clip!

The Undertaker says slam. 

1 hours ago - In May 1986, during an episode of Saturday Night’s Main Event, Roberts delivered a DDT to … feud with Randy Savage in 1986, many fans would cheer for Roberts instead of Savage and Roberts …. Wrestlers That Shocked The Public In 2011. Randy “Macho Man” Savage and Jake would play with a snake again on Saturday Night’s Main Event in late 1991. The Cobra was devenomrized. “Maybe you want to get rid of the Macho Man Snake Man!” Randy told Jake and Vince beforehand. Roddy Piper was scared. Jake took advantage of the distraction by blindsiding Savage, clotheslining him off the apron to the floor. Roberts followed him to the outside, rammed his arm into the post, and rolled him into the ring where he tied Savage into the ring ropes and delivered a series of knees. Jake went for the bag and, as the audience held its breath, he opened it up and out of the bag poured a real live king cobra. Jake picked up the cobra and walked over to where Savage was tied in the ropes and, in a shocking visual, the cobra bit Savage on the arm. The amazing reality of the situation was that not only was this a real king cobra, but it was really biting Savage. In order to make it look real, Savage agreed to make it real and allow the snake to legitimately attack him. The cobra latched onto his injured arm and began chewing away, drawing a flow of blood down Savage’s arm. The cobra was sunk in deep and, with the blood leaking out of his wounded arm, Savage helplessly writhed as the reptile continued to dig into him. The line between work and shoot blurred again here, as Jake began trying to pull the snake off of Savage, but it wouldn’t let go. Roberts began shaking the snake, kayfabing it to look like he was trying to get it to bite harder, but he was actually trying to shake it loose of Savage. Read more at http://www.411mania.com/wrestling/columns/51662/That-Was-Then-3.23.07:-True-Feats-Of-Manliness—-The-Randy-Savage-Snakebite-Incident.htm#ABCZC28iuX4Ve67M.99 Originally Posted by Demonique Oh, the Snake Bites - YouTube I’ve just discovered this video of a wrestling match from the 90s. Jake the snake Roberts holding an angry king cobra which proceeded to bite the crap out of Randy Savage. Is this a real (albeit venomoid King) or just an elaborate fake? (Looks pretty real to me though) From comments on the video the snake died about a week after the match (guess it couldn’t handle the roids) http://www.amazon.com/Savage-1986-2011-Nathaniel-G-Moore/dp/1927380553/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1394995317&sr=8-2&keywords=savage+1986 http://www.amazon.com/Savage-1986-2011-Nathaniel-G-Moore/dp/1927380553/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1394995317&sr=8-2&keywords=savage+1986 Heh I remember this the first time around, yes it was in fact a real a Cobra and yes it was void of it’s venom. Jake the Snake (if I’m correct) had difficulty removing the snake from Randy Savages arm and the whole thing kinda went along more than it should’ve done. The snake did indeed die shortly later and Randy Savage proclaimed (as a joke) that the snake had been envenomed from Randy Savage during the bite. Oh dear yes I was a WWF fan as a kid I must say I’ve not watched your clip Youtube craps this old lappy out so I could be looking like an idiot and it’s a different clip!

HTML GIANT reviews SAVAGE 1986-2011

image


"With its multiplicity of domestic settings and kaleidoscopic mix of wrestlers, Christians, truth, evil, George Michael, masturbation, sibling rivalry, the mental health system in Canada, New Order, eventual redemption, Savage 1986-2011 is a memorable memoir packaged as a novel, not to be read by candle light too close to your own family’s powder keg of secrets.”

                                                          - HTML GIANT

Savage Shorts Launches on Youtube!

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February 21, 2014
Toronto, Canada
On the day WWE Inc. announces Hulk Hogan will host Wrestlemania XXX, Toronto author Nathaniel G. Moore announces the debut of "Savage Shorts" on his Youtube channel. 
Savage Shorts is a dynamically low-fi video Playlist is here featuring over 10 incredible 10 second, 20 second, 30 second 1 minute and 4 minute VHS classics from the years 1990-1993. Subscribe today! All free and all part of the incredible journey that lead to Savage 1986-2011 being published in Canada! Watch for the incredible low price of free! This playlist is dedicated to Warren Auld.

 

Hulk Hogan To Host Wrestlemania XXX

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Hulkamania is back with the return of Hulk Hogan to the wrestling stage for WWE’s ‘Monday Night Raw.’ And the WWE Hall Of Famer couldn’t be happier as he once again gets to climb into the ring with some of the biggest names in wrestling.

Terry Gene Bollea, 59, who is better known by his ring name, Hulk Hogan, is making his triumphant return to the WWE, TMZ originally reported on Feb. 21. And he will make his epic return during WWE’s Monday Night Raw on Feb. 24.

Hulk Hogan is heading back to the squared circle on Feb. 24 for WWE’s Monday Night Raw. And will also be back just in time for WrestleMania 30.

The WWE Hall of Fame Icon hasn’t been seen in the WWE since their SummerSlam PPV in 2007 where he ended up losing his match against fellow WWE Superstar Randy Orton. But with the upcoming WWE network launch, what better time for Hulkamania to return!

Recently, Hulk Hogan has been training at the WWE Performance Center in Florida in an effort to make his big return the most spectacular it can be, TMZ reports.

It hasn’t been made official whether or not the former Hogan Knows Best reality star will actually be wrestling a full match, but TMZ sources reveal that things could get very physical for Hulk Hogan as this upcoming Monday Night Raw action heats up. Hogan also played a minor role in the novel Savage 1986-2011 published by Anvil Press in which the Mega Powers move to Leaside and watch wrestling and eat junk food.

Additionally, Hulk’s return is scheduled to coincide with the debut of the newWWE Network. Plus, it has been confirmed that Hulk Hogan will also appear at Wrestlemania XXX in April 2014. He will be hosting the show.

Savage (excerpts and collage)

     Of all the things I kept with me on my odyssey, it was my RCA CC-432 VHS Analog Camcorder that acted as a strong phantom limb; a perennial, albeit cumbersome, necessity for my ever-changing wilderness. 

image

     “How could you say that shit about Mom!” I said with a gusty shout, and pulled him out by his winter-coat collar. “Asshole!” I threw him down on the ground. “You fucking piece of shit!” As he tried to get up, I kicked him twice hard in the stomach; bits of snow exploded around each leg thrust.
The words would get erased. Just me kicking him. That’s it.
“YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!” I blasted with hateful fangs.

     The gargantuan winds had subsided. All that remained was a cold and brutal afternoon; the fake sun hanging benign.  
                     image


Dearest Mega Power partner Andrew:

So, listen. Here are Some ideas for our presidential campaign:

Send it to the radio day (we make up new remixes of songs and try and get them on air: the whole school sends in hundred of tapes!)

Come to School Naked Day!

Food drive (run over food)

Video dance party with Erica Ehm

Erica Ehm Day

Roof Day (classes on the roof, suntanning, barbecues, concerts, just like The Beatles!)

Wednes-Day

This is the end, my only friend, the end. We should go to the meeting (it’s 15 mins.) at 3:20 tonight and see who’s runnin’; then we either run or run for the door! Imagine: Don’t be sour, vote Mega Powers! Also, I think I’ll be playing hockey in the same league as that guy in our Eng. class, Steve, Stevie.

Signed truly,

Nate Savage (co-Mega Power)