Zangief: A Rope of Sand

Note: This article originally appeared on my old website, planetexplosivo.com, which no longer exists. For posterity's sake, this and many other articles from that site will be reposted here. This particular article was written in October 2005 and has not been changed or edited since, which is unfortunate, because I don't think it holds up very well over time. Had to bring this one back by popular demand though... Namely Zangief's.

OK, this one's a little different. I'd like you all to meet one of my friends. A rather unique one at that. I can't do him too much justice here, so read the full article. But I warn you; it's a bit in your face, like the man hisself. Or "Yo, MTV Raps!"

This article is going to be a little bit different than the usual Planet eXplosivo fare. Over the months this site has been up, we’ve looked at video games, a TV show based on a video game, and the new Star Wars movie. [2008 note: none of those articles are on here as of this posting, but they will be soon, except the Star Wars one. Don't worry, you won't miss it that much] OK, so we haven’t looked at all that much because of the lazy jackass who writes this crap… BUT! Today, we’re doing something different. We aren’t looking at how weird of a game “Anticipation!” for Nintendo was (though it was and I highly recommend you play it). No friends, today we’re going to meet someone. A strange, some might even say bizarre, individual who is a good friend of mine and would like to be a good friend of yours. I urge everyone to please be brave, prepare to be somewhat disgusted, and get ready for Zangief.

[NOTE: Due to the alarming amount of racism found herein, all instances of a particular ‘n-word’ ethnic slur has been replaced, by science, to be read as characters from popular 80’s cartoon show “He-Man and the Masters of the Universe.”]

"Come drink with me."

Let me give you some background on this enigmatic character, who stalks a certain college campus in Ithaca, and on how he and I became acquainted. In a fraternity, we pull in a pledge class of new members each spring. One of my good friends, Black-Out Baum, had met this brash and bright-eyed youth, who would soon be reborn as the man-monster Zangief. Whereas he may have been part human before, Zangief is all animal and quite likely part zombie.

Here we see Zangief give his former roommate a big hug

Zangief, as most patrons of this site should know, is the namesake of the hairy Russian wrestler in arcade legend “Street Fighter II.” Well, being a hairy Russian, he was given the pledge name of Zangief on his first night in our fraternity and such he has been ever since. In fact, no one remembered his birth name until this article’s publication. Even him. He takes on some of the less charming qualities of his video game equivalent. He sure is Russian, he sure is big, hairy, and sweaty, and he will pile drive anything that breathes, given a chance. But it’s not how like the “real Zangief” he is that makes our Zangief so remarkable. It’s his delightful way with people. What follows are real stories, real quotes, and actual photographs of Zangief in action. It’s all true except for the stuff that I made up.

Put it back on. Please?

One of my personal favorite Zangief quotes was “Get your pick axes, we’re going to have a brain feast.” What did this stalwart young Russian mean when he encouraged myself and others to bear up arms and devour the flesh of the living? I maintain that Zangief is a zombie, a cannibal, or a zombie-cannibal that rises from the grave each night to consume the gooey innards of your skull. He also likes the fat bitches.

Splinter Cell Zangief. Not on Halloween

I’ve seen the bastard sit in his room for days on end playing “Splinter Cell” or “Jade Empire.” Speaking of his room, Zangief has taped his curtains down so that no natural light may penetrate his giant purple room. When questioned about this, Zangief simply said, “I don’t need any fucking “HE-MAN” light. Fucking waking you up in the morning, like a goddamned “BEAST MAN” .” He then finished off his glass of whiskey, pounding it down, and forced me to take shots with him. I awoke in a pool of what I hope was my own vomit several hours later. He was right; it was great to not have that light pour in each morning.

Kicked in the balls by a muppet...

Zangief is also very strong. He goes to the gym, unveils his excessively hairy body, and bench presses members of the math team. After he’s done, he funnels a 40 and punches through the wall. Swearing in Russian and clutching his fist, he’ll be so angry that he headbutts the wall and stumbles about with blood in his eyes, before finally passing out and awaking to play “Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic.” “You gotta come hard or go home,” Zangief says. “It’s like a party. You can either be alone and drunk all night or you can get shit-faced and fuck a really nasty whore.”

Yep. Stepping on a chick

Ask anyone close to Zangief about his hobbies, and they all say the same thing: drinking. If competitive drinking was a sport, Zangief would be dead. Long dead. “Who doesn’t like fine spirits?” said Zangief. “I’ll tell you who. Fucking “SKELETOR” s!” His liver is either extremely weak or extremely strong due to the phenomenal amount of alcohol it must process on a daily basis. I asked Zangief where he thinks he gets his love of alcohol. He had this to say: “When I was eight, my dad sat me down. He said, ‘Elia, live your life like a hurricane. Destroy as much as possible, be full of hot air, and always spin counter-clockwise.’ Then he gave me a bottle of Jack and I blacked out for the first time.”

But certainly not the last! Whether it be passing out in the hallway and constructing a Fortress of Solitude, tackling and choking unsuspecting bystanders, or stealing anything not bolted down from absolutely anywhere, it’s a guaranteed good-time when this roustabout gets tipsy. “YOU FUCKING “ORKO” -STEINS!” Zangief exclaimed. “I’LL FUCK YOUR SISTER AND YOUR MOTHER AND THEN SHIT ON YOUR FACE!” Zangief is also a devout member of the Jewish faith.

I asked Zangief if he had any words of advice for any potential readers out there who may not have had the pleasure of meeting him in person. “Get out of my room you fucking “SHE-RA.” I swear I’ll kill you and your stupid website. I’ll kill it until you die. [Bottles smashing; bloodcurdling screams] Never shop at Circuit City.” Truer words were never spoken.

The next morning, when asked if he had any parting words, Zangief had this to say: “Quoting yourself makes you seem educated and well respected by others. Oh, and of course, Jersey rules!” It won’t and Jersey certainly doesn’t.

Words do nothing.

Zangief appears frequently in my nightmares and even more frequently in the gutter on the streets outside of the Collegetown bars. To schedule a meeting with him e-mail me.