IPOD
RADIO
The result of the Benoit tests, for those who don't want to read the whole article, is that Benoit had sustained so much head trauma from working the stiff style he was known for that his brain resembled that of an 85-year old Alzheimer's patient. From the article:
[SLI researcher Julian] Bailes and his research team had also analyzed the brains of former NFL players such as Andre Waters and Terry Long, who both committed suicide. Bailes and his colleagues theorize that repeated concussions can lead to dementia, which can contribute to severe behavioral problems.
"There is a constant theme in the failure of their personal lives, their business lives, depression and then ultimately suicide," Bailes said.
...
They found that Benoit's brain showed an advanced form of dementia that appears on the brain scan as brown clumps or tangles. These brown spots are actually dead brain cells, killed off as a result of head trauma, said Bailes.
In Benoit's case, the damage was found in every section of the brain _ all four lobes and deep into the brain stem.
"It was extensive throughout Chris' brain," Bailes said. "This is something you should never see in a 40-year-old."
"We think these changes are not due to steroids," Bailes said. "That has never really been studied, but it's never been in the medical literature or any research that shows steroids do this to the brain. These changes [in the brain] were found in the 1920s before steroids were even invented."
So I guess this falls under the category of "cold comfort." On one level, it's a relief to hear that, judging from the severity of the brain damage, Benoit was about as responsible for his actions as my Alzheimer's-afflicted grandmother was responsible for not being able to remember her children's names. True, my grandmother never strangled anyone to death (that we know of), but then again, my grandmother - though scrappy - was never World Heavyweight Champion material.
That being said, my Saturday night is planned around two things: Watching Matt Hughes twist Georges St. Pierre into a French Canadian pretzel at UFC 65, and trying to get myself a Nintendo Wii at a midnight presale. Nintendo's got it right this time. The Wii is cheap, it's innovative, it's a blast to play by all accounts, and with Nintendo promising 4 million units available worldwide by the end of 2006, there's a chance you'll actually get one.
FUN FACT 1: The most-discussed storyline in the game is the one I didn't come up with. I lay the blame for the "Candice Michelle turns male wrestlers into women with her magic wand" story squarely at the feet of my former script supervisor, who was either having a moment of pure insanity or pure genius. In retrospect, some might see it as him leaving a metaphorical turd on the desk of the company he was getting ready to leave, although he's far too much of a pro to do something like that intentionally. I think.
FUN FACT 2: One of the storylines in the game featured former WWE Superstar Christian in a major role. As soon as I finished my first draft of the script, Christian opted not to renew his WWE contract and instead jumped to TNA (new, upstart rasslin' company). We replaced him in the script with Eddie Guerrero, who died shortly after the second draft of the script was finished. Johnny Nitro was our third choice for the story, so if something awful happens to him, you know why.
It was also great hanging out with Noah and Wook and that wacky black dude who kept trying to dance with us. And although I didn't really need another black t-shirt, I got one.
Danzig's in town a week from today at the Crystal. Witchcraft shows up at the Doug Fir (finally!) two days later. I'll be at both, and you all should too.
That's not to say that I didn't sass her some. When she angrily asked if I wanted to go up after Half-Deaf Guy, I considered the question for one dramatic pause's worth of time, and then I shrugged my shoulders and said, "Sure, I'd love to."
But, in my defense, the guy was AWFUL, beyond normal awful karaoke standards. And it was very near closing time, and he jumped ahead of two of my friends who had paid the KJ extra for the chance to get their songs in before closing time, apparently because he worked there. And I did shake half-deaf-guy's hand and apologize after his song, not that I think it mattered much.
But here's the deal: If you stand in front of people with a microphone and suck, expect no mercy. That's the code I live by, and I expect no less from anyone else.
I'm gonna shoot you, in heaven you'll rot
Rot in heaven, hear an angel's voice
You're too bad for hell, though it's your first choice
Rot in heaven, you're too bad for hell
Rot in heaven, you're forgiven in hell
I shot Lennon, I shot the Pope
I shot the devil, now you ain't got no hope
Rot in heaven, hear an angel's voice
You're too bad for hell, though it's your first choice
I shot Reagan
And I'll shoot him again and again and again and again and again and again
loading your activity feed...