Why Professional Wrestling Is The Greatest Thing In The World

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My roomate is also, for all practical purposes, my brother: we have known each other for 38 years. He's also my writing partner, many other things.

You learn a lot about living together; certainly a great way to develop tolerance and harmony. We don't fight tooth and nail anymore--heck, we used to fight in the ring together, against each other, everything. My main writing project is based upon that experience, really.

But, you know, some things just irritate a man. Like, his love of professional wrestling.

He has watched this for years, and often, I have found myself in situations where I was not just privy, but, nee, subjected to this thing, which I consider, generally, to be a horrorshow.

I used to like the old stuff-- "Big Time Wrestling." Well, no, I didn't like it, at least no more than one does rubbernecking a carwreck. The general bogus-ness of it, I couldn't do it for long.

I understand drama, and I understand making big money. I even understand cheap theater. I like vauldville.

Currently, I indulge him, in that he takes about 4 days a week, one hour per, and views this.

I have asked him many questions about this, because I find him a very good man on many levels. Mostly, he just says that mindless entertainment is useful, and that if you are in the market for that, this is the top-of-the-tree. He knows it isn't real (which is more than I can say for the better part of their fan base).

If making money is all it is about (and my roomate Jimmy elucidated this), you can't fault the McMahon empire. A good case for capitalism, and showbiz in general.

It's always been that way. Drag a banana in front of a monkey, the monkey is going to chase it.

It was either a case of exposure therapy, or just good old conditioning, but I found my view shifting, in that my sense of humor discovered yet another lower common denominator (this concept, by the way, is the way rap music works).

Tonight, taking a break, I was making Chinese food, and the entertainment was locked in. Fucking wrestling, of course.

I have dug into it (I research the crap out of anything I get exposed to)...up and down theater, big bucks.

But tonight, maybe an eclipse.

Do you know what a "Samoan Strap Match" is? I don't either, other than it involves this guy named "Umaga" (supposed Samoan).

Now, you can fill in most of the blanks, but basically it involves leather straps, guys in singlets and rubber wrestling pants...sort of a B&D dealio. Umaga gave us a demonstration, a little taste of this, tonight, interrupting a script via coming in at the end of a match and doing said demo.

Mind you, McMahon's empire, his minions, are built upon and consist of "family entertainment."

It was about as non-sexually-S/M-disfunctional as those "Toasty Torpedo" commercials. "Put it in me, Scott." Jeez.

All this goes on in the midst of poverty, decay, and such. We do know that things like bar business, other distractions, go up during turbulent times because then, more than ever, people require higher levels of escape.

I looked over the audience (thinking, sometimes, as a parent does)...looking at all those kids, the ill-afforded money spent, etc. Normally, I find this biz-as-usual, and locating extremes are difficult for me, looking through a showbiz eye.

But a "Samoan Strap Match?" WTF? That's just nasty.

And, through the marketing eyes, I felt they missed the boat.

Being that my unavoidable exposure to wrestling occurs, I look for openings, little spots to enjoy. The main thing I find most satisfying is watching the women wrestle. I mean, that's just a gimme.

Now, if you want to charge big bucks for a Samoan Strap Match, why not go the distance and do it with hot, slutty, in-shape chicks?

And that is where I started to really wonder about myself, because for a moment, just a moment, I thought about how if they did such a thing, I might pay to see it.

Then I got better.

I believe more people in the TV world consistently watch wrestling more than those who do not.

There's your horrorshow.


Just dangle trinkets before the natives.

Edited by Rich Engle
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