Notes From A Disappointed Raw Viewer

I was just watching WWE Raw, and for the first time in a long time, I’m afraid that I am offended.  And this is no minor, simple offended; this is a very complex state of offended that only comes about once every Olympic season.  I guess I’m due.

Anyway, the first thing that offended me was the black tag team “Crime Time.”  There is something bizarre about pro wrestling.  They seem to be allowed to do absurdly racist things and never get called on it.  This is a rich tradition in wrestling, going back to the days of Yokozuna, The Iron Sheik, and of course the petulantly stereotypical caricatures of the noble clown community, Dink and Doink.  Crime Time is the newest incarnation of this, and with the tag team, pro wrestling has finally outdone themselves, surpassing their previous racist apex, The Nation of Domination.

But, this by itself isn’t enough to set me off.  I’ve come to peace will this trend, though it will never stop confusing me how pro wrestling and porno consistently get away with such blatant racism.  What offended me about Crime Time is that they were wrestling John Bradshaw Layfield, or JBL.

JBL is a wrestler and a conservative pundit.  He hosts his own radio show where he spouts off about how the president is always right and how you can make more money now by taking his advice.  I am amazingly offended that he is allowed to be a part of political discourse.  Here he is one day getting half-naked and rolling around with a couple of greased up sambo dolls, and the next, he’s on the radio, expecting listeners to take to heart his views on the state of affairs in Iran.  I admit, I have a little problem with wrestlers becoming movie stars (except for The Rock, that guy can act), but I have a serious problem with them being able to give out serious opinions over the radio waves.  I mean, seriously, I could fill up that air space.

As offensive as JBL being taken seriously in any arena is, there is a further problem I had with tonight’s installment of Raw.

Over the years, a lot of horrible things have happened.  People have been “hit” with sledgehammers, people have been “hit” by cars, people have been “kidnapped,” but I’ve never seen anything quite like I witnessed tonight.

After JBL was disqualified from his match with John Cena, he taunted Cena to follow him outside, a request which Cena was happy to oblige.  Cena follows him outside and a painfully long “where’d he go?” sequence follows, ended abruptly by JBL hitting Cena with a tire iron.  Again, nothing new here.  But it gets worse.  JBL proceeds to prop Cena’s limp body against a car’s driver side door, then gets in another car and drives right into Cena.

Before I go any further, I understand that 1) wrestling’s fake, and 2) Cena probably escaped at the last second.  Even though it’s fake, even though this is a pathetic attempt to up the ante, I still think that this is going a little far, to stage, essentially, a murder.

Now, I’m not saying that kids are going to be knocking their friends out and running them down because they saw this on Raw, I’m more concerned from an aesthetic standpoint.  It’s just not a very classy move, and it smacks of desperation.

Long gone are the days of The Rock throwing Stone Cold off a bridge.  Long gone are the days of The Rock tricking Mr. Ass into wiping his behind with poison ivy.  Long gone are the days when pranks and antics mattered.  Now, you have to show people committing would-be crimes to shock them and get their attention.  Now, where is there to go?  You always need a “go-to,” something beyond what you’ve ever done to keep you grounded.  Now, I’m not sure there’s anywhere left.

I officially pronounce you dead, professional wrestling.  You had a good run, and, let’s be honest, I’ll still watch about half an hour of you a month, but from now on, it will be with a much more skeptical and cynical eye.

And, on a more serious note, could you please bring back Val Venis?  I really miss the Porn Pretzel.