I’ve recently come out of a depression.

I didn’t even know I was depressed until, around September of last year, I started feeling better about work, life, and art. I experienced the mental equivalent of clouds parting after a storm, and a warm beam of sunlight cutting through the dark. The juxtaposition of mindsets was so palpable that I realized, “Oh, I was depressed!”

That depression lasted for about two years and it manifested as a kind of dull, throbbing ache, a sense that something was about to go wrong at any moment. At my day job I struggled to decide what task to undertake next. I didn’t have a schedule (big mistake when you have bipolar!) and I would wander, aimlessly in my mind from one potential tragedy to the next. At home I was better, but I wasn’t really enjoying my life either.

To enjoy life seemed like a luxury I couldn’t afford.

How did I deal with this depression?

Moral Ambiguity In Professional Wrestling

Is amoral art immoral?

That’s the question I keep asking myself as I consider the implications of a professional wrestling that no longer asserts good is good and bad is bad, but rather that we live in a morally ambiguous world where people simply make choices and then live with the consequences. Amorality is being neither moral nor immoral, it is showing no concern in the rightness or wrongness of something. In art, that means the author doesn’t pass judgment on the characters, but merely presents them as they are, allowing the audience to judge. Such is the moral philosophy of many modern dramas and comedies in this Golden Age of Television. From Tony Soprano to Walter White to Don Draper to Daenerys Targaryen to Barry Berkman to Kendall Roy to many more, the amoral perspective these television shows have on their leads sidesteps the traditional moral binary of good versus evil for a more fluid interpretation of the universe.

Professional Wrestling Is Good For My Mental Health

For the past few months, I’ve been watching Monday Night Raw, AEW Dynamite, and Friday Night SmackDown every week. It’s been fun, and reminiscent of the early days of my pro-wrestling fandom where I watched totally devoted. Establishing this routine has made it easier to get through the work-week. Each day, I remind myself that wrestling awaits and it helps the next handful of hours pass a little quicker.

My favorite of the bunch is Dynamite. It’s the most inventive and naturalistic, featuring a fantastic cast of colorful characters. There’s the super serious sort like Jon Moxley and Hangman Adam Page and the hilarious sort like Orange Cassidy and The Best Friends. Unlike WWE-television, Dynamite has an actually funny sense of humor - that is to say comedy in AEW is genuinely amusing and not cringe-inducing. Dynamite also features wrestling matches with stories rather than wrestling matches as time-filler.

The Rock Got Me Through My Teens

The Rock is my favorite wrestler. I’ve come to this conclusion after much deliberation. He’s on a short list alongside CM Punk, Bret Hart, Sami Zayn, Stone Cold Steve Austin, and Mick Foley. It’s not hard to figure out why The Rock is my favorite. His ascent to WWF super stardom (and beyond) perfectly coincided with my adolescence. In those precious and impressionable years, he provided a respite from turmoil and angst. I would look forward to Raw and SmackDown every week in intense anticipation of what he might say and on whom he might layeth the smacketh down. Every new catchphrase was a significant event. Every gesture or subtle motion of his body was worthy of imitation.

Why We Love Professional Wrestling

“You know it’s fake, right?”

Most pro-wrestling fans have heard this question in some form at some point in their lives. They’ve worked up the courage to admit they’re a pro-wrestling fan and then they’re met with peculiar stares, snorts of laughter, or the dreaded f-word, “fake”.

On behalf of all wrestling fans allow me to answer…yes! We know it’s fake!

As I’ve matured as a wrestling fan the less interested I’ve become in “regular people’s” opinions of it (or me). If someone judges me negatively, even slightly, for loving professional wrestling then it is I who feel bad for them - not the other way around. The issue of pro-wrestling’s fakeness is not a problem for professional wrestling fans. We do not attend WrestleMania and feel deceived when we notice a softly delivered punch. We’re not confused when a wrestler climbs to the top rope to spring through the air and come crashing down on their opponent. And we’re not convinced the bad guy is evil and the good guy is good. We understand what we’re watching. We “get it”.

EDITORIALSTim KailNovember 21, 2022wwe, aew, Chris jericho, sami zayn, professional wrestling, professional wrestling blog

THE PRO-WRESTLING RENAISSANCE

Professional wrestling is on the verge of a renaissance.

The signs are there, if you’re keen to see them.

This potential revival can be traced back to CM Punk’s "Shoot Heard Round The World". The effects of that single promo continue to radiate throughout the professional wrestling community and particularly in the WWE; namely in the current top program that revolves around Paul Heyman and Brock Lesnar. If CM Punk had not incorporated their names into that promo, would we be seeing them at the top of the mountain today? Had CM Punk not talked about Triple H and Stephanie McMahon in that promo, would The Authority stable exist today?

THE REALITY OF WRESTLING OR: WHY EVERYTHING IS FAKE

I believe in professional wrestling.

Like any other storytelling medium, the theater of pro-wrestling can inspire, enlighten, and unite. The transcendent power of a pro-wrestling match is best comprehended by those viewers caught in The Moment of Pop - that instant where the onlooker forgets what they're watching is staged and is inspired to rise to their feet or sink into their seat.

In that millisecond of purity, all contrivance fades.

The Road To Better Representation Of Asians At WrestleMania

On January 28th, 2018, two performers of Japanese descent, Shinsuke Nakamura and Asuka, won their respective Royal Rumble matches.

This was a defining moment both in pro-wrestling history, and in my personal pro-wrestling fandom.

When you’re an ethnic minority, growing up a pro-wrestling fan presents a challenge.

Pro-Wrestling's xenophobic roots result in the depiction of ethnic minorities as the heels (villains) opposite the "All-American" babyfaces (heroes). We are represented by racial caricatures and stereotypes that are designed to emphasize one’s foreignness. It’s a constant reminder that we are the “other”; that the way we look, the way we sound, the way we act inevitably elicits boos.

WOW - EP147 - Survivor Series 2017 Review

This year's Survivor Series fluctuated between "fine" and "fun". Nothing was terrible, but nothing was too memorable, and in-between existed a lot of legitimately good fun.

The basic conceit of Raw and SmackDown facing off in competition would resonate more if the stakes were clearly outlined and involved more than "bragging rights".

We might know the motivations of the characters when they're outside the squared circle (i.e. Kurt Angle wants to keep his job, Shane McMahon wants SDLive to be more than the B-show), but we don't know what an actual win in the wrestling match itself signifies. The concept of "why" any of this is happening doesn't have an instantly accessible answer beyond, "Because!"

Tim Kail's Raw Review

There are times when the WWE strikes that perfect balance between heavy-handed schmaltz and sincere, logical storytelling.

That elusive sweet spot may just be the purest representation of the WWE's perspective on professional wrestling; an over-the-top family saga wrapped in spandex, fireworks, and an assortment of colorful heroes & villains that occasionally results in genuine expressions of pain, joy, surprise, and psychosis.

One such moment occurred on the November 13th, 2017 episode of Monday Night Raw when Kurt Angle and his tearful "son", Jason Jordan, were interrupted by a grim & determined Triple H.

The Art of Wrestling Is In The Details

The pro-wrestling community does a lot of debating about "no-selling", "dick flips", and "beach balls" these days.

But what about the roll-up?

What about how a wrestler uses their eyes during a pin?

What about the little, fundamental details of professional wrestling that get buried under high spots, hand-gestures, headbutts, entrances, memes, and chants from self-obsessed audiences? I'm certainly guilty of falling prey to the analysis of these popular topics (see my article from two weeks ago).

Your Negative Perception Of 205 Live Is Not Reality

On Tuesday night at 10:50 pm, I was quietly screaming at my television and pumping my fist with restrained desperation. I was "quiet" and "restrained" only because my wife was peacefully sleeping next to me, and I did not want to wake her. While words didn't actually escape my mouth, I could feel myself shouting, internally, "To-za-wa!!!". Akira Tozawa was making his "comeback" in a 205 Live main event match against Ariya Daivari. It was a number one contender's match to determine who would face Neville for the Cruiserweight Championship at SummerSlam. So it mattered.

It seemed to me that all of the conditions were right for enjoying some fun, psychologically sound professional wrestling. I had tuned in after a long day at work, and I was winding down towards sleep, reclined in my bed, Tweeting along with fellow viewers, insulated in a warm bubble of pro-wrestling goodness. All was right with the world from my vantage, and Tozawa and Daivari were telling me a reassuring bedtime story about the power of perseverance.

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