What does professional wrestling say about human nature?
It's an oft-asked question -- explored by sociologists, social activists and (on rare occasion) in the media -- but rarely explored with any great depth.
Perhaps for good reason. After all, professional wrestling is not only ridiculous, but unabashedly ridiculous. It seems to thrive on its own ridiculousness.
As a superhero, I've often encountered the dark side of humanity, and the dark side of human nature. And it may be fair to say that the enjoyment of something like this clearly falls on the dark side of human nature:
This is a match from a "King of the Deathmatch" tournament held in Japan numerous years ago. One of the wrestlers in this match is actually quite famous. Cactus Jack, real name Mick Foley, wrestled for the WWF at one point in his career. The other performer, Wing Kanemura, is far less famous. He's likely rarely been heard of in North America, but may be rather famous in Japan -- who knows?
At certain levels, it may be tempting to impart a certain amount of nobility in the struggle being waged between these two men. Both want to be known as the toughest, most resilient, and most vicious deathmatch wrestlers in the world. One of them -- Cactus Jack -- even went on to win that particular honour.
What is on display here, to the naked eye, is simply a competition between two incredibly determined individuals.
These two men, however, are competing in front of a sold-out audience in what appears to be a large outdoor stadium. In other words, someone is making a lot of money off of this event.
Someone is making a lot of money off the suffering willingly accepted by these two individuals for what, at the end of the day, will likely be a very small pay-out.
As the eventual winner of the tournament, Cactus Jack was treated to nothing more than a can of soda as a "bonus", and a "King of the Deathmatch" trophy he wasn't allowed to keep.
Some people may think that because pro wrestling is fake that such things could never happen in real life.
Sadly, they'd be wrong. If they doubt it, they need look no further than Bum Fights.
Produced by the contemptible Ty Beeson, Bum Fights profits off homeless people by degrading them for very meagre pay-outs. Homeless men mutilate themselves for a sandwich, humiliate themselves for a handful of quarters, or fight each other over a bottle of liquor.
Kicking Beeson off his show is perhaps the one thing that Dr Phil has ever done right:
In the end, human rights are only as valuable as individuals themselves treat them. Someone willing to participate in enterprises such as Bum Fights -- and perhaps even professional wrestling -- clearly do not honour their own human dignity, or their own human rights.
Certainly, some professional wrestlers do become very wealthy through wrestling. Cactus Jack himself is one of them. Wing Kanemura, it seems, is likely far less fortunate.
What professional wrestling says about the people who watch it may be more pertinent than what it says about the wrestlers themselves. Few wrestling fans could pretend to be ignorant of how many of their favourite performers end up: broken down, injured, and dead at very young ages.
Yet they continue to watch unabated by the unfolding tragedy. I'm not sure if I accept the argument that wrestling fans are simply the enablers for attention-seeking musclemen, but that argument clearly exists.
(Then again, what is a superhero -- like myself -- than an attention-seeking muscleman with an overriding sense of self-righteousness? And have you seen the outfits we wear? Seriously. Perhaps it takes one to know one.)
The audience cannot be expulpated of responsibility for the sad outcomes these men eventually suffer -- just as anyone who has ever purchased a Bum Fights DVD is responsible for that particular travesty.
At least professional wrestlers don't accept explicit demeanment in the course of their careers. Unless a wrestler is no good at all, they tend to enjoy at least some moment of glory along the way.
Perhaps that makes a difference.
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