July 22, 2018, 02:40:32 PM

Author Topic: A Rumination on Stain Removal and Other Household Cleaners  (Read 83 times)

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Offline Adaya

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A Rumination on Stain Removal and Other Household Cleaners
« on: April 15, 2018, 08:02:38 PM »
Thereís a stain on the carpet. On her hands and knees, scrubbing at it with a wad of paper towels is Adaya Duncan. She frowns, before leaning back to glare at the stain which hasnít changed or gone away. Next to her is a container of RESOLVE, a carpet stain removing cleaner. Her eyes narrow to a fine laser point as she reads the promises of the product.

ADAYA DUNCAN: Stain remover. It says right here. Tough on stains. Thatís what it promised it would do.

Her eyes drift from the can full of promises to the stain which has not dissipated. Her eyes shift from the stain to the camera which is focused on her. She rests on her haunches and gathers her breath, calming down.

ADAYA DUNCAN: Itís all talk really. All of it. Iíve tried ten different products--

She motions with her hand and leans to one side to show the lineup of cans and plastic sprays marked with various brand names.

ADAYA DUNCAN: All of them promised to get this stain out of my carpet. None have succeeded. Itís my career in an array of cleaning products, Trish. And itís your career, too. Oh, sure. It promised it would win the day, be tough on dirt, and succeed where others have failed but no amount of trying seems to get the job done.

She grits her teeth and picks up a can of Spot Shine Carpet cleaner and looks ready to crush the can.

ADAYA DUNCAN: Sometimes you come at the stain from a different angle, a new perspective. You try a new sponge and that seems to work, but some stains are harder than others to come out.

Her eyes once more drift to the stain in her carpet, where they remain, stoic and thoughtful.

ADAYA DUNCAN: I never really set out big plans for my career, Trish. I didnít have aspirations at driving a fancy car, or striking it big. To be honest, no matter how many times I hyped up a big match and claimed to have set my eyes on a title, I didnít really care. Itís the thrill of the fight, the fascination of the next opponent. The desire to see what they have that I can learn from, push myself against to see how far I can get. At the end of the day, however, remains this stain.

Silence as she contemplates it.

ADAYA DUNCAN: By now, ideally, the comparison Iím trying to swing isnít entirely lost on my audience, particularly you Trish Newborne. You, like me, have talked about getting up no matter the defeat, and trying again. Now your strategy after two losses seems to be the classic ďif at first you donít succeed, try, try againĒ axiom.

She shakes her head.

ADAYA DUNCAN: In the past, I canít remember to whom, but I recall saying to someone I perceived as working the same strategy you seem to, Trish, that insanity, by definition, is repeating the same thing over and over and expecting different results. And here I am, looking at you Trish, and thinking of saying it again. I think thatís sad.

History repeats itself first as tragedy, then as farce.

I feel like Iím repeating myself in spite of my best efforts not to repeat myself, my efforts to reinvent the wheel Iíve been turning throughout my career.

Iíve come at this sport from ten, maybe twelve different angles and I always end up back in the same place, sitting here, looking at this stain and wondering if perhaps just leaving the stain right where it is would be just as fine as struggling against it indefinitely. No amount of changeups of technique, or skillset seems to affect the stain.

Her eyes turn towards the camera, more pensive and introspective.

ADAYA DUNCAN: Iíve watched your tapes, Trish. Iíve seen you succeed in GCW, and elsewhere. Iíve seen you turn your attention here to 4CW and start with a rough set of losses, one of which was to my stable mate and friend, Ric Greene. I look at you and remember that lecture Kaelan gave me about how she hoped Iíd stick around and progress through the levels of a career in 4CW, and I fear resorting to something similar here against you. Donít give up, Trish. You can win eventually. And then maybe youíll lose. Or youíll win a title, and then lose it. Inevitably, no matter what, Trish, youíll swing right back around to the ďpicking myself up and dusting myself off to go at it againĒ mentality. This business is a perpetual toboggan ride down a hill. You make it to the bottom, then rush back up the hill to do the same thing over again.

Adaya sighs, blinking and looking downward.

ADAYA DUNCAN: I grow tired of finding new ways to say the same shit, Trish.

She lifts two different chemical containers and reads their labels comparatively.

ADAYA DUNCAN: Same ingredients. Different cans. Same concept. One comes in a spray, the other in a foam. Rinse. Lather. Repeat. Yay. Fun. Sometimes the stains goes away.

Her eyes dart to a spot on the carpet where, presumably, once was a stain.

ADAYA DUNCAN: And sometimes the stain doesnít go away.

She looks back at the remnant of grape juice in the berber carpeting of her apartment and narrows her eyes.

ADAYA DUNCAN: The problem is, Trish, when you start to think about it, what if no one of these products is actually better than the other at doing what they say theyíre going to do? What happens if all the products are the same, none are special, and ultimately you just end up picking one over the other cause you like the name, or the smell it makes? One works better on Berber. The other works better on composite.

She thinks about it for a time before shrugging and looking back into the camera. 

ADAYA DUNCAN: Itís a mystery. See, my ethos for this business is admittedly simple. And itís nebulous. It keeps changing. At one point I wanted to grow and become better, but what happens when youíre either done growing, or the thing youíre doing to try to grow stops growing you? What if itís grown you all itís able to?

Then my ethos mutated into being an attempt to grow Minority State, but the message keeps getting confused partly by delivery, and partly by reception. No one knows what the fuck weíre on about. Itís just a loose grouping of people representing visible minorities. And, problematically, thatís actually a politicized issue right now. No one comes to a wrestling show to learn things. So how deep do we go into the problem, Trish? How does a stable addressing such issues go about articulating ourselves? I can tell you donít get it, and I donít know whatís at stake in you, or anyone else, not getting it.

Fact is, I donít even get it anymore. Maybe thereís nothing to get. Come Octane 19, by hook or by crook, weíll find ourselves staring across the ring, Trish. Iím sure youíll assemble a terrific ensemble of words, hopefully loaded with poignant arguments demonstrating my inferiority in the face of your clear, and present superiority. And Iím looking forward to the whole us fighting thing. And, at the end of it all, one of us will have our hands raised. Maybe itíll be you, and maybe itíll be me.

And then?




Back to the stain.

Adaya smiles amicably, and turns away from the camera to go back to scrubbing at the stubborn stain in the carpet.