With my final post in the bag, I am going to bid this blog adieu — at least for right now. It’s been a lot of fun posting about complete garbage week in and week out, and I’ve spent a lot of this semester thinking about things I never would have otherwise, like red hamburgers and Hulk Hogan’s sextape. There have been some ups — I had fun, I was read by 25 different countries (special shoutout to Brazil!) and I almost got to 300 views. And there have been some downs — I had to eat gross stuff and my most popular post wasn’t even written by me. But every step along the way, it has been a treat. This is not a goodbye, because there’s always going to be bad stuff out there in the world. This is just saying, Seacrest out for now.
Because graphs are fun, I wanted to add a final piece to Hulk Hogan Week and make a chart of his movie ratings over the years. As it turns out, though, very little of his filmography has actually been seen enough to garner critical ratings (and it’s probably for the best, because the range would be 0 to 10%.) So I’ve decided to make a chart for someone different, often considered the patron saint of garbage movies: American funnyman Adam Sandler.
At the top of the list with an 86 is his cameo in Chris Rock’s Top Five, and my favorite director Paul Thomas Anderson’s Punch-Drunk Love follows at 79. From there, it’s not pretty. You can see in the 90s how he starts out very low and eventually works his way up to slightly higher fare, but there is no consistency here; it’s kind of remarkable how Sandler’s movies jump way up then crumble to the bottom almost like clockwork. The lowest, at a fine 0, is the recent Netflix exclusive The Ridiculous 6, which just came out, so maybe he has better stuff ahead of him if the trend continues.
It’s hard to stay away from politics during an election year, so I’d like to take a moment to recognize those we’ve lost as the 2016 election makes everybody feel dirty on the inside. Just last night, Canada’s very own Ted Cruz announced he was dropping out of the race for the Republican nomination. Beaten-to-death jokes about the Zodiac Killer aside, Cruz was responsible for many of the race’s most horrifying moments, and I don’t just mean his policies.
This video made the rounds as soon as it happened last November, but let’s take a second to remember just how awful this whole thing is, and how much you hate Cruz for ruining The Princess Bride for you. He really was one of the WOAT, and will not be missed.
Over the past couple posts, I’ve explored how Hulk Hogan has been an acclaimed wrestler, actor, rock star and American hero. But I can’t let Hulk Hogan Week conclude without a tribute to something I wish I’d made up, Pastamania.
In what must be simultaneously one of the laziest and the most incredulous celebrity cash-ins of all time, Hogan decided in 1995 that the time was ripe for him to take his unstoppable brand to the world of food. Regular restaurant cuisine would not do the trick, however — it had to be mall food, and it had to be pasta, because it did.
Despite his business savvy and pasta passion, the venture would end within a year of its start. Pastamania was just too pure for this world. And unfortunately, there hasn’t been a book-length oral history of Pastamania published as of yet, so the exact details of how and why (and under the suggestion of what substances) this came to be are still out there somewhere, waiting to be discovered by a generation of long-lost Pastamaniacs. We can dream, right?
Hulk Hogan has worn many hats throughout his career, all of which usually deserve quotation marks: “wrestler,” “musician,” “pasta mogul,” “television star” are among the most recognizable. But for some reason, he’s mostly forgotten as an actor despite appearing in terrible movies for kids across a span of decades.
But fear not–if you’re uninitiated with Hogan’s oeuvre, WhatCulture compiled a list a few years back of some of the many bad things he’s done on camera (thankfully, sex tape not included). My personal favorite of the bunch, Mr. Nanny, is well-represented–it’s basically the predecessor to Vin Diesel’s The Pacifier, but with more Home Alone infusion and a whole lot less to like earnestly. (Also, for some reason David Johansen of the New York Dolls plays the villain?) There’s plenty else to like there too though, so take a look.
For a while now on WOAT, I’ve wanted to do a whole week of themed content based around something that is awful enough to deserve it. And this semester, the universe smiled on me and gave me a Hulk Hogan sex tape lawsuit where he gave Gawker the Leg Drop to the tune of about $140 million. In honor of every terrible thing Hogan has done in this world, WOAT will be celebrating Hulk Hogan Week until next Monday! May Macho Man have mercy on your souls.
One of the more fascinating pieces of Hogan pop-culture ephemera is his cash-in album made in 1995 with a ragtag entourage called the Wrestling Boot Band. Long before John Cena would try to change the rap game forever, Hogan tried to change all music by stuffing his album full of an incoherent mix of styles united behind one theme: isn’t Hulk Hogan just the fucking best?!
When J. Robert Oppenheimer saw the detonation of the first atomic bomb which he helped to create in 1945, it brought forth to his mind a passage from the Indian epic the Mahabharata: “Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.” When I first learned that Burger King was going to start selling ugly red hamburgers, I thought the exact same thing.
My beautiful friend helped me direct the above, and that’s about the only good thing it has going for it, because let me tell you–this was not an enjoyable experience. But I’ll let you watch all seven grotesque minutes of me eating a hamburger and find that out for yourself.