Can we all just stop slamming, please?
Hey, have you ever been slammed? I haven’t, but I’d really like to know how it feels.
I imagine getting slammed would feel kind of like former heavyweight boxing champ turned tribal ear eater Mike Tyson jumping on your head from behind, grill-first.
From the top of a five-story building.
And then bashing you in the back of the neck with a clothes iron. One of those big Italian-made jobs the size of a small Dyson vacuum cleaner, with Mini Me on top of the iron, swinging a second smaller, amygdala-sized iron.
Or maybe it would be like getting squashed by Haystacks Calhoun in his prime.
All I can say is that when I get slammed, they’ll have to peel me off the ground like Wile E. Coyote.
I’ll be able to wear myself, inside out, when I get slammed.
If I ever get slammed.
For now, all I can do is imagine. I can only get slammed vicariously.
I wonder how Fox News feels after being slammed by Forbes for slamming teen green activist Greta Thunberg. Donald Trump, having weighed in, was slammed too. What kind of slam was that? Did Trump, still reeling from being slammed for Ukraine, slam back? (Yes, he did.)
All those slams happened yesterday, by the way.
Across the ocean, the Daily Mail has not only been slammed, but blasted too, for its coverage of Supreme Court President Lady Hale. Who is laughing now, Daily Mail?
A Canadian dog owner was also slammed (by the Daily Mail no less) “for decorating her poodle to look like a skeleton from Mexico's Day of the Dead festival”. Power slam!
Both of those slams happened within the last seven hours.
Freeze-dried TV chef Paula Dean was slammed for poking fun at dead Food Network star Carl Ruiz. And then Brazil's President, Jair Bolsonaro, was slammed after delivering a slam-worthy speech at the United Nations General Assembly. There’s a slam he won’t forget.
Blackberry. Boeing. Thomas Cook.
Slam. Slam. Slam.
That’s a triple slam, which in professional horse racing you’d call a trifecta, sans the slam.
And don’t forget Lil Fizz, slammed for spending too much alone time with Apryl Jones.
Did Lil Poopy ever get slammed, I wonder? Let me check.
No, Lil Poopy was never actually slammed, possibly due to his age, but in 2013, the Cocaine Cowboy did slam Justin Bieber, who has been slammed so many times it’s not even worth fact-checking. Bieber, in fact, may be the Godfather of Slam, the “ur” slamee.
What, I wonder, would happen if I set a Google “slam” alert. (I just did.) Would I wake up tomorrow with the kind of alarm they play in South Korea every time Kim Jong Un practices shooting his nuclear missiles? Would I be thrown, nay, slammed out of bed cross-eyed, my inbox overflowing with “slam” alerts?
Probably, I’d feel nothing at all.
We’ve slammed so much, the word no longer has any effect on us. But its overuse by the media hasn’t only dulled its impact. It’s also had an unintended side effect. Our daily slamfests have made any conversation that falls into their nets sound ridiculous, like an argument between two pie-throwing clowns.
Greta Thunberg isn’t ridiculous. She’s angry. Fox News attacking Thunberg isn’t ridiculous either. It’s lousy, ignorant, puerile, nihilistic journalism, and the outrage it provokes and the outrage it describes deserve better words*, words that would actually make us feel like Mike Tyson jumping on our heads from the top of a small building, grill-first.
*If you actually have any ideas about how we can rid the world of slamming, or what we can put in its place, we’re all ears. Just leave them in the comments section below.
When Max Sheridan isn't decrying our slam culture, he creates comeback campaigns for Nicolas Cage. (What, you don't think he needs a comeback campaign?) His second novel Hubble is coming fall 2020 from Run Amok Books. Talk to Max at your own risk here.