Having studied religion and literature in college, I have noticed that every culture or faith gives a name to a place totally devoid of any good, where all the evils of the world live. Christians call it “Hell.” The Greeks called it “Tartarus.”

This week, I called it “Monday Night Raw.”

I guess I should blame myself. I could have seen the warning signs early on. Triple H referring to Shawn Michaels as “Shane,” minutes after they made fun of the Miz’ screw-ups the week before. The ring announcer saying that Carlito and Shelton Benjamin were contending for a shot at the cruiserweight title. Randy Orton drooling for Hulk Hogan’s daughter. Pretty much everything the Highlanders did.

Little did I know that the Highlanders would be the pretty much last I would see of anything interesting on Raw.  What followed was a virtual black hole from which no talent could escape.

First came John Cena vs Umaga. Yeah, a guy who got fired two years ago is suddenly a monster heel to be feared. I’m buying this big time.

You know, I like John Cena. Sure, he’s not someone I would put in a category with Bret Hart or Eddie Guerrero as a performer, but compared to what the WWE is currently offering, he’s about the best out there. And I didn’t really like seeing him lose to Umaga. Personally, I was hoping Cena would win and Umaga could begin jobbing to Charlie Haas for the next year (like we don’t know that’s where he’s heading?). Instead, he gets the cheap win over Cena and I’m supposed to be impressed.

OK WWE, you want me to give a damn about the half of 3 Minute Warning who sucked the most? I can do that, but first you have to have this clown win clean over someone more impressive than Eugene or “Hacksaw” Jim Duggan or some other “legend.”

It then got worse just when it looked like things might get better. Ric Flair came out to respond to Mick Foley. Thank goodness, I thought. Flair always delivers the goods. The only thing that could screw this up would be if…

Than the music hit. It’s like they read my mind.

Out came two people that should be honored with lifetime achievement awards by the Remote Control Manufacturers Association for their contributions to the industry. Johnny Nitro has caused more people to hit the channel change button than anyone else in history, and Melina’s effect on the “mute” button is scientifically documented.

Nitro begins to deliver his lines with all the emotion, conviction and meaning of a guy asking the clerk at an AutoZone where the spark plugs are. The fans responded with total silence.

But why pick on Nitro? At least he said his lines correctly. When Melina grabbed the mike (which has come to be considered the equivilant of Wile E. Coyote lighting the fuse; you know whatever happens isn’t going to turn out the way it should), she taunted Flair by what she thought was his own catch phrase.

“Wooooooow!!”

“Wow?!!?”

That’s right, “Wow!” Not “Whooooo,” “Wow!” As in “Wow, this bimbo doesn’t even know who Ric Flair is.” Or “Wow, someone actually thinks she deserves to be paid every week.”

At this point, I’m desperately wanting to ask Vince what Chyna could have possibly done to warrant not giving her a spot on the roster over this idiot, not even noticing that Flari is actually trying hard to save this spot by beating up Nitro and sending him flying into Melina, knocking her off the ring apron. Melina comes up lane, favoring the ankle and for a moment, I show some optimism. Maybe this is the beginning of a new angle. Since she’s always pretending to have an injured ankle, maybe they’ll have a storyline where Melina’s ankle is really injured but no one believes her.

But within moments, any possibility of Melina being used in a sensible angle evaporates when I (and everyone else on television) notices SHE’S NOW FAVORING THE WRONG ANKLE!!!!!!!

My first thought was how there are so many guys and women in the indy ranks who would do ten times as well as Melina and Nitro and be willing to work for less money. I think about how many of us work our asses off to do our jobs well and will never make Melina’s salary.

Next up is the Diva Search results. I brace myself, telling myself that The Miz and these Divas are never interesting and for once I’m disappointed tonight. The camera isn’t on Miz, so I have no idea if he remembered the phone number this time. But once again, I wonder what option I can press to get rid of all of these Divas and the Miz. And Melina. And Nitro. And the Spirit Squad.

Good segway, huh?

Because topping off this horrible night is the main event between HBK and Shane O’Mac. Believe it or not, this isn’t so horrible. Shane isn’t a bad wrestler; I’ve seen HBK with worse opponents (see Kama, King of the Ring). But in the end, I knew it was coming. And sure enough, out they come from under the ring.

But even the Spirit Squad wasn’t so bad, because I actually liked the idea that for once, Vince and Shane would get back at DX and set up the DX revenge next week. But then, Triple H reaches under the ring…

Let me pause here and remind you; Triple H goes under the same ring that five guys have been under for two hours or so.

…and pulls out his sledgehammer.

OK, now wouldn’t the Spirit Squad have seen that sledgehammer under the ring? Wouldn’t they have got rid of it? If they really are that dumb, why does Vince keep using  these guys when he has lots of other thugs he could send after them?But then again, in its way, that last scene was the perfect end to Raw. It started poorly and continued to lose ground all the way through.

I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to complain too loud about ECW.

“Wow” indeed.

Guest columnist Robert Igoe has been on a self-imposed hiatus (that’s his story and he’s sticking to it) while sorting out some serious family issues, adjusting to his new life in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley and preparing to be married to his long-time girlfriend, Nancy. But he occasionally stops in to say hello and invites all of you to do the same. There’s always ice-cold Coca Cola in the fridge and who knows, maybe he’ll even show you his growing collection of Andy Capp collected works. Drop him a line at bobbyknightmare@msn.com