I'm a Member of the F.V.K.

One week away from the palatial Hammerstein Ballroom, and ECW is right back in the crapper. The vulgar, witty, rabid fans have been replaced with their drunk, yawning, "stuck at a RAW taping for eight hours" doppelgangers. The blood and barbed wire have been swept (mopped?) away, tedium and prudence taking their place. And the pleasantly surprising CM Punk is relegated to Promo Hell, leaving more TV time for THIS chief.

I've been flogging this nag for well over a decade now, but it seems it's time to break out the beatin' stick again. Vampires are LAME. A horror icon that once represented the churning sexual dread of repressed Victorian Society has become an expression of our modern era's stunted emotional development. Isolated teenagers well into their forties slather on makeup and give each other "interesting" haircuts, squeezing their corpulence into corsets and crushed velvet. Vampire culture is a sad pantomime of sexuality, a system of ready-made fetishes designed to help simpering loners express their utter terror at the prospect of actual physical and emotional contact with another human being. It is NOT the new face of ECW. The new face of ECW is the Sandman's new face (seriously, what's wrong with his cheekbones?).

So please, ECW, no more Kevin (!?) Thorn. He's not scary. He's not cool. He wrestles like a less energetic Undertaker, if such a thing can even exist without throwing the universe into heat death. If you want THIS writer's vote, bring back The Zombie.