ON HEROES AND VILLAINS

The deaths of Gen-X icons Ozzy Osbourne and Hulk Hogan have stunned, and polarized, the world. Yet they were two very different people in private.

In the year of our Dark Lord, nineteen hundred and eighty-four, Ozzy Osbourne launched into what is now an infamous tour with Motley Crue, setting a new high, or low depending on the eye of the beholder, standard for depravity and shenanigans in the name of Rock and Roll. At this point in his career, Ozzy might have been the most vilified “celebrity” in the entire world. Stories of drug abuse, infidelity, Satanism, and general chaos followed him like a shadow, creating a persona and reputation that completely eclipsed the music. While it’s everything that Marilyn Manson has strived for decades now, Ozzy achieved it seemingly effortlessly, although not always to his benefit. We all know the stories that came from this time. Urinating on the Alamo. Getting arrested for public drunkenness. The bat and the bite heard around the world. All of these have become legendary cliff notes in the history of Heavy Metal, but at the time that they occurred, they mostly created a giant stigma on his career and namesake.

On the other side of the scale of popularity, it’d hard to imagine a larger, more well-loved individual than Terry Bollea, better known to the entire world as Hulk Hogan, who upon defeating The Iron Sheik would kick off what was affectionately referred to as “Hulkamania”, and give him a legion of dedicated followers who idolized him and hung on his every word, especially those of his life’s motto to “train, say your prayers and eat your vitamins”. He flaunted his “24 inch pythons” while defending the rights of truth, liberty and the American way in the ring every week, and even when it seemed that the Hulkster was on the verge of defeat, we could always trust him to “Hulk-Out” and get his victory, giving his opponents a big boot to the face before landing a massive leg drop and then it was one, two, three brother. Again, this legacy was solidified in legendary moments, just of a more positive, wholesome nature. Who doesn’t remember the body slam of Andre the Giant, which even though it was mostly jump, still made everyone, even non-wrestling fans, believe that Hulk was the strongest man that ever lived. Him tearing his shirt off, preparing for Hulkamania to run wild over whomever was unlucky enough to be in the ring with him. The images of him standing mid-ring, waving the American flag at a time when America was on a downhill trajectory might have been the main reason that all sense of patriotism didn’t wither and die. His popularity was so immense that if you accurately described it to a person that wasn’t alive at the time, they would probably assume that you were lying to them. He was literally a human deity, and all of the world adored him.

Both of these men passed away this week, with Osbourne dying on Tuesday morning, and Hogan dying today, the following Thursday, and the reactions could not be any further from the other than they are, only in the exact opposite way that any of us in 1984 would have imagined. Tributes, condolences, stories to honor and stories of heartbreak started pouring in immediately over Ozzy, and here two days later have shown no signs of stopping. Those tributes aren’t just coming from metal fans and alumni. Pat Boone, a former neighbor, wrote a very touching one. Elton John and Rod Stewart both honored the man and his legacy. Hell, even Kermit the Frog broke all of our hearts with his tribute.

On the other side, the tributes to Hulk have been tepid at best, and even those that have come in have mostly come from other wrestlers, all now long retired, and speak more of who he was forty years ago than who he was when he passed.

So what happened? How did Ozzy become a beloved icon while Hulk fell from grace in a harder plummet than Prometheus would ever know? You want my theory?

Honesty and Accountability.

While both were deeply flawed human beings, the past few decades have found Ozzy repentant of his past, and despite still making mistakes along the way, as we all do, he always seemed genuinely determined to make the necessary corrections, to apologize to those affected, and to learn from his errors as not to repeat them. He was charitable, and generous. His utterings of “fuck off” seemed more in jest than reality, playing the part of the cantankerous old man, despite clearly loving his family, friends and fans deeply. Ozzy never seemed to be performing for the glory of his own ego. He did it as a fan himself, and no matter how large he seemed on stage, it was always beset with a sense of humbleness and humility. A man that recognizes how lucky he is to be where is is, and realizes the people that helped him achieve it.

Hogan never seemed to understand that he was capable of doing anything wrong. Multiple allegations of racism were brushed aside, with more blame being pointed to the microphones that caught the exchange than to the man that uttered them.  Stories of infidelity and sex tapes ruined his marriage and abuse, which seemed to be mostly pointed at the children and led to Brooke Hogan, the daughter of Hulk, cutting ties with both parents and refusing to speak to either of them. Stories from the WWE of wrestling careers ruined because of his inability to allow others to triumph, with the phrase “that’s not gonna work for me, brother” becoming synonymous with his unwavering unwillingness to put anyone else over. Throughout all of it, there was never any moment of reflection for himself, no doubt that maybe his actions were not all that awesome and could use a different perspective. All of this came to a head, a final nail in the coffin that was his reputation with the utterance of a phrase that still sticks in my throat like vomit while dehydrated. He stood before a crowd and without hesitation, said “Trumpamania”. That was the end. The Hulk that we thought we had known for years was officially gone. All that remained was this giant asshole, who looked familiar, but in no way could be The Hulkster that we had all idolized as children.

The true differences can be seen in the television shows focused on both families. The Osbournes were loud, crude and vulgar, but it felt real, even for reality television. There was a respect for the children and their personalities and interests. There was legitimate love. They were a family, and while dysfunctional, never felt forced or fake.

Hogan Knows Best on the other hand, played out like a really shitty sitcom, a vehicle for Hogan to show the entire world how good of a father and husband he was, and to jumpstart his daughters music career the family seemed more like characters, and ones that couldn’t really act, than actual people. It felt forced and even the moments that were meant to convey togetherness fell apart, just as scripted as the words that they emotionlessly uttered. This didn’t seem a family as much as a cast, and that cast didn’t seem to really want to be there.

I’m not writing this as just a chance to praise Ozzy, as I have an entire piece dedicated to that. I’m also not here solely to tear down Hogan, despite my multiple criticisms. I recognize the good that he did.  I’ll never argue against his impact on the world of wrestling, and how it wouldn’t be near the powerhouse that it remains today without his involvement. I’ll also not try to take away from the number of lives that he touched, and all of the Hulkamaniacs that he inspired. He was, at a time, truly the brightest star in the entire galaxy.

I instead write this as a moment for all of us to sit and think about our own legacies, as that will be all that remains once we make the grand exit from this mortal coil. We are all, as Ozzy and Hulk were, deeply flawed creatures, but how we handle and react to those flaws shows the world who we are as people. How we treat the people that love us determines how our children eulogize us, either through tears and fond memories or apathy.  It’s with these moments today that we create the stories that are spoken of us tomorrow. We can either be the person that made mistakes but rose above to acknowledge and correct them, or we can be the person unable to accept or even recognize those flaws, and as a result, unable to emotionally grow as we inevitably grow older.

Let us be honorable, and honest. Dedicated to our families and loyal to those we love. Let us do what’s right, and when we miss that mark, let us do what we can to make it right. Let us be the best parents, and partners and people that we can be. And finally, let us train, and take our vitamins, and say our prayers, to whomever you prefer to pray to.

Both Ozzy and the Hulk that we want to remember would want it that way.

Jason Kuykendall has been a horror fan since the age of two, when his mother sat him down in front of When a Stranger Calls, so she began using horror movies as a babysitter. His favorite job was a mom and pop video store that he worked at when he was sixteen. He runs Creepy Bat Book Review but is thinking about firing and replacing himself due to how slack he’s become in his work. He’s made of 85% tattoos, 35% compassion, and 69% spite, and he also doesn’t understand math. He won’t pet your service dog, but he really, really wants to.