It's been a mammoth six weeks since WWE's last PPV, and quite a lot has happened since then.
Kenny Omega and Kazuchika Okada went interstellar as they discovered two new stars. Love Island, the latest exercise in defining the very purest form of vapidity, has created a fresh reason to be ashamed of being English. And the World Cup has kicked off - giving England a chance to make another one tomorrow.
Tellingly, absolutely nothing has happened on WWE TV. That they have the temerity to try to follow Dominion's footsteps with this sack of dreck, let alone present a four-plus hour wrestling show when we're currently being showered by a wall-to-wall football bukkake, is frankly galling.
But here it is, presented in many ways as the functional obverse to New Japan's Osaka supershow. Gluttony, not necessity, is the guiding principle. The veneer of reality is thinner than a kindergarten nativity play. And the quality? Artisans Rollins, Asuka, and Bryan are coupled with work-experience interns. The possible main event sees a veteran of one match take on a champ with all the finesse of King Mabel himself. Dave Meltzer won't be having a late night in the observatory this Sunday, that's for sure.
It is supposed to be WWE's fifth (!) biggest show of the year mind, so they'll definitely try to make it seem like a spectacle. It just, like, won't be.
Benjamin was born in 1987, and is still not dead. He variously enjoys classical music, old-school adventure games (they're not dead), and walks on the beach (albeit short - asthma, you know).
He's currently trying to compile a comprehensive history of video game music, yet denies accusations that he purposefully targets niche audiences. He's often wrong about these things.