News and Updates

Blog: Mike Quackenbush (6.5.16)

Posted: June 05, 2016

There have been very few matches in CHIKARA history conducted with the stipulation "No Disqualification" - but maybe not for the reasons you might expect. The truth about these matches is, it can be very difficult to get the result you want.

Finding two wrestlers that both consign themselves to what a "No Disqualification" match includes is difficult. To put it in simple terms, you are putting your match in the geographic center of "Shenaniganville." No matter how intense a rivalry might be, this can be an unattractive option. You know you are opening yourself up for outside interference. You know you are opening yourself up for illegal tactics, like the use of a foreign object, for example. And the normal rules of the ring will not protect you. So, yes, maybe you have more at your disposal. More weapons to employ against your enemy. So too do they. And if what you're really chasing is your enemy's this the best route to that destination? Because no matter your strategy, your journey still starts in "Shenaniganville."

A match with the "No Disqualification" stipulation is a dangerous one, an unpredictable one. For every crafty idea you might think to employ, someone out there has conjured something even craftier. Even nastier. These types of matches can easily spiral out of control. Even under traditional rules, we saw (as recently as last month!) a referee get kicked right in the face. No matter how wild the action gets though, there must always be an arbiter. To count the pin, or acknowledge the submission, or in the event of a knockout, to just stop the match. Given the likelihood of a match like this, between two men like Mr. Touchdown and Juan Francisco de Coronado, getting a little on the crazy side, I have decided to appoint a special referee specifically for this contest. I am counting on you, Dasher Hatfield, to be the law in this relatively lawless match.


Blog: Pinkie Sanchez (5.23.16)

Posted: May 23, 2016

I was once a man. But my own faith in the BDK has made me a shadow. I should be on top in CHIKARA, but I've become unfocused. I'm not ashamed to say I let my strings get pulled in the pursuit of glory. But whose glory?

I followed my mission. My hands were my weapon. My faith was the ammunition. My shots were precise. It was war. It was survive or nothing. I'd have carried your injured body off the battlefield, Jakob. Would you do the same for me? Recent events make me think not. Looking back on the last few months, it is clear we were never in the trenches together. I was just cannon fodder. I'm learning a lesson through all this. I am every person with a dream. You will not build a wall to suppress the dream.

To see things clearly, I had to turn my gaze backward. I watched the Infinite Gauntlet. Every moment and every mistake. What a surprise I discovered, in hindsight. I found more fulfillment teaming for a few moments with others than the last year of teaming with Jakob and his BDK. Your path is clouded, Jakob. It has clouded my own path way too long.


Blog: Hallowicked (5.17.16)

Posted: May 17, 2016

Tomorrow Never Dies. December 14th 2014. This was the day I cast off the bonds of my slavery and turned to serve a true cause. It was the day Delirious pressed the Eye of Tyr against my head and whispered into my ear the very key to unlocking my shackles. I lived a lifetime in what was only experienced as a moment to the rest of the world. I saw visions that would shatter the minds of most beings like a piece of glass being dropped from the top of the world. Perhaps that was Delirious' intention, to make me into what he is, a raving lunatic. Regardless of what he wished, the images he showed me placed me on the path I walk this day.

I saw the stalwart broadsword. Implacable, unquestioning. I saw his brother the spear swung in a wild violent arc, spilling the lifeblood of our enemies. They were held together with a chain. Unbreakable. Inseparable. I saw the warhammer crushing to powder the walls that stood in our way. I saw the dagger, then already plunged into its target dripping with poison invisible to sight smell and taste alike. These things came to be. All Glory Nazmaldun.

I saw a great battle and in the midst of that battle I was covered in vermin. I cast them each aside as they slithered and writhed on my skin. Innumerable they were yet I emerged as the only survivor. This too came to be. All Glory Nazmaldun.

I saw his angel of death dragged away from the safety of the flames and into the darkness. I saw those flames reach out to scorch him a final time only to be dashed out underfoot. I saw brothers born of the same darkness he was ushered into. Brothers who fought to deny their true nature, at last cast back into the abyss from whence they came, arm in arm. Just as rot strips away the flesh and lays bare the bone, these thralls have been stripped of joy, love, and loyalty to others. In it's place is hate, spite, and reverie only in causing harm to others. Loyalty only to Nazmaldun and his cause. These visions came to pass as promised. All Glory Nazmaldun.

Yet there were more. Visions of three more before the tribulation can begin. These have not yet passed, but will come to be.

First, I saw The Wanderer. The painted man. He attempted to serve two masters and was ripped asunder for it.

Next I was shown The Worm. The one that should not be. He possessed a weapon of his own and my master beckoned for it.

Last I saw the betrayer. His blood was colder than the driven snow and he made corpses of his friends and allies of their foes.

These will form his eight pillars of woe, the eight points of darkness that signal Nazmaldun's ascension to total dominance. Once assembled there will be no way to cauterize The Rot from consuming every corner of the globe.

The last vision shown is one that will forever haunt me. It is of what will become if Nazmaldun is not victorious in his war. It is a vision I will never speak of. It does not matter who or what is put in our path, every drop of blood in my body will be spilled to make sure it does not come true. If all the blood of The Eight must be spilled, so be it. All Glory Nazmaldun.