Popular culture can offer a clear window into deep cultural and metaphysical shifts over time. The nature of major team sports leagues, popular movies, and chart topping music all serve as surface indicators reflecting the hidden metaphysical pressures underneath. Charting the changes in these popular realms over decades can be particularly revealing. For example, if one were to examine the difference between the way the National Football League handled player safety forty years ago versus now; one could gain insight into deeper cultural shifts concerning empathy and morality. While certain sports or entertainment items can reflect narrow aspects of our deeper metaphysical reality, there are some popular cultural products that offer a wider, all encompassing view. And as unlikely as it might seem, one of these cultural products is professional wrestling; specifically World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE).
In the United States, the history of professional wrestling entertainment dates all the way back to the 1860’s. But for the purposes of this writing, we need only look back forty years, to around 1980. This could be considered the ‘modern era’ for pro wrestling. A time where large promotional companies began to consolidate control over the business. The most well known of these companies is of course WWE; which was formerly known as WWF (World Wrestling Federation). While deeply flawed on a personal level, the longtime owner of WWE Vince McMahon has always been brilliant at recognizing the cultural changes in WWE’s popular audience. McMahon always seemed to understand that his product succeeded best when it reflected the deeper culture at large. Instead of trying to create new culture, McMahon knew that all he had to do was amplify what was already there.
Over the past forty years, the changes in professional wrestling have reflected the basic theoretical framework known as the transition from modernism, to postmodernism, to metamodernism. The 1980’s were a time of modernist narratives and an aligning technological environment. The Cold War created an easily digestible metanarrative where the United States was ‘good’ and the Soviet Union was ‘bad’. Then US President Ronald Reagan appealed to tradition and idealized themes in his rhetoric. News and entertainment choices were limited, which left the human mind in a more focused and simpler place than today. This simplicity combined with the low quality of 80’s television sets and VHS tapes, helped create a metaphysical condition where the human mind was easily swayed by fantasy narratives. One such narrative was that pro wrestling was featuring authentic competition instead of scripted entertainment. Another was the entire persona of pro wrestling’s biggest star of the 80’s; Hulk Hogan.
Hogan was like a real life superhero to kids of the 1980’s. He was larger than life, and ‘good’ in the same Cold War manner that the United States was ‘good’. Hogan carried the American flag proudly, and eventually adopted a song called ‘Real American’ as his theme music. The chorus lyrics to ‘Real American’ were:
‘I am a real American, fight for the rights of every man. I am a real American. And fight for what's right! Fight for your life!’
This kind of kitschy patriotism is modernist to its core. Overly sentimental, optimistic, and immune from any cynicism; it was a deep part of 1980’s culture. Which was part of why Hogan, and ‘Hulkamania’ became cultural phenomena.
Another part of Hogan’s appeal were his in ring performances. His signature style included moments where he would ‘hulk out’ on his opponents. Seemingly nearing defeat, Hogan would suddenly summon a burst of energy and emotion that instantly left his opposition reeling. Flexing, and convulsing around the ring, Hogan would channel the rising energy of the crowd into a force field that rejected his opponents punches. This sequence of events was predictable and melodramatic, but it also worked. It was wrestling as peak modernist performance. A simple, overdone fantasy for a time when popular audiences were readily consuming simple, earnest narratives.
As the 1980’s gave way to the 1990’s, the culture at large began to change; and pro wrestling changed with it. The age of postmodern cynicism would begin, and reach its high point in the 90’s. Notions of earnest feelings and grand patriotic narratives gave way to the hedonistic allure of anger, violence, sex, and rebellion against authority. Whether it was through conscious recognition or intuitive feeling, pro wrestlers began to change their personas. Out were the over the top childish antics, and cheesy gimmicks. In were edgy attitudes, street clothes, and ever realistic violence.
In 1996 Hulk Hogan became ‘Hollywood’ Hulk Hogan. His signature yellow and red outfits were replaced by black t-shirts, sunglasses, black jeans, and the occasional cigar. He led a new group of wrestlers called the ‘New World Order’, which was made up of similarly dressed cohorts. But the most important part of Hogan’s change was his sudden transition from ‘face’ to ‘heel’. This basically means a transition from a hero or good guy, to a villain. Mirroring the Cold War, modernist atmosphere of the 80’s, wrestling faces and heels before the 90’s were pretty much clearly defined. The fans rooted for those that were good; while those that were bad got booed. Yet one of things that came along for the postmodern 90’s ride was a blurring of the lines between the good and the bad. Bad guys became cool, and good guys became naive simpletons susceptible to ridicule. For wrestling fans, heels weren’t bad guys to root against anymore. They were the coolest, edgiest guys in the ring that everyone wanted to emulate.
What became known as the ‘Attitude Era’ for WWE began in November of 1997. This signified a full embrace of PG-13 rated content, and was the apex of WWE’s postmodern era. The most popular wrestlers of this period were ‘Stone Cold’ Steve Austin, and Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson. Stone Cold chugged beers in the ring, popped off middle fingers, wore a leather vest, and terrorized his ‘boss’ (Vince McMahon) in fictional storylines.
The Rock shared Stone Cold’s talent for rebellion and mayhem. But he also displayed unmatched, and uncensored verbal skills in skewering whoever became the target of his ire. Both wrestlers were beloved by fans because of their attitudes and personas. Whether they were good or bad mattered little. In 90’s postmodern paradigms; edginess equated cool. Stone Cold and The Rock embodied the kind of postmodern anti-heros that audiences at the time were gravitating towards.
Another aspect of WWE’s postmodern Attitude Era was its embrace of the moral notions of the day. Or should we say, lack of moral notions of the day. The 90’s were a time when it seemed like the moral landscape had become a complete free for all in the wake of disintegrated moral traditions that were never replaced. Music and entertainment embraced profanity, overt sexuality, and unabashed hedonism. In WWE this development was personified by the group, ‘Degeneration X’ or ‘DX’. For DX, rebellion and debauchery weren’t actions to prove a point; they were the point in themselves. Like drunken frat boys unleashed in a wrestling ring, wrestlers Paul ‘HHH’ Levesque and Shawn Michaels defined DX with their signature gimmicks. The most famous of which was to aggressively gesture towards their crotch while screaming ‘suck it’ at an opponent or rowdy fans. 90’s wrestling audiences loved it, and the DX ‘suck it’ gesture grew to become a 90’s pop culture phenomenon.
The postmodern culture of the 90’s that allowed DX’s debauchery to thrive also opened the door to the fetishization of violence. In popular music and entertainment, ultra realistic depictions of violence became an acceptable norm. Looking back, it seemed like the ‘hyper realism’ of the 1990’s was a reaction to the sugar coated gloss of 1980’s modernism. Generations coming of age in the 90’s were primed with cynicism flowing from the failings of modernist narratives. This led to an almost nihilistic feeling. A feeling where true meaning came from embracing the pain, suffering, and misery that went hand in hand with human existence. I’m not sure whether the intoxication with violence in the 90’s came from generational anger at a seemingly meaningless reality; or simple unchecked hedonistic indulgence. Yet one can be sure the intoxication itself was real. And as it manifested itself in the culture, it found a natural home in the postmodern era of pro wrestling.
Interestingly, the epicenter of realistic violence in 90’s postmodern wrestling wasn’t situated in WWE. Its primary home was a smaller, more regional wrestling company formed in 1992 called ‘Extreme Championship Wrestling’ (ECW). ECW was to the wrestling industry what early hip hop was to the music industry. It was an insurgent that functioned as a constant middle finger to the mainstream. This made its young fans rabid, loyal, and a little cult-like. Instead of large stadiums or arenas, ECW took place in smaller venues or even high school gyms. Fans knew the company not as ECW, but as EC ‘fucking’ W. The authenticity, and constant push towards aggression in the ECW brand was the antithesis of PG rated modernism.
It’s hard to describe the level of violence in ECW. There were matches where the ring ropes were replaced with actual barbed wire. Tables, ladders, and chairs were used in authentic stunts where bodies were thrown from obscene heights. Crowds could bring objects, throw them into the ring, and the wrestlers could use them to pummel their opponent. ECW fans reveled in all this partly because of pure hedonistic indulgence, but also because they connected with the authenticity of the ECW wrestlers. Wrestlers like ‘The Sandman’ or the ‘Innovator of Violence’ Tommy Dreamer were regular guys. Their fuck you attitude in the ring was the same attitude ECW fans were living in their daily lives. ECW was the embodiment of the 90’s postmodern feeling that ‘keeping it real’ was the only way to live. It was one of those cultural products that was so embedded within its time, that there was probably no way for it to exist outside of the time in which it thrived.
Yet as with most counterculture products in America, ECW eventually became absorbed by the mainstream. At first, Vince McMahon noticed the cultural relevance of ECW and began to incorporate some of its violence into WWE. But by around 2002, ECW had run out of steam and money. This gave McMahon the opportunity to acquire all of ECW’s assets and bring an end to the violent rebellion in professional wrestling. The early 2000’s were still maintaining the hallmarks of the postmodern 90’s, but tremors of change were beginning. The culture at large was beginning its shift towards the metamodern age, and as it always does, wrestling was getting ready to follow.
The postmodern Attitude Era in WWE officially ended in July of 2008 when the company received a more family friendly TV-PG rating for its content. Gone was the excessive violence, profanity, and sexuality. In was earnest feeling, positive messaging, and creativity. An unofficial marker for the beginning of the age of metamodernism was the 2008 US presidential campaign of Barack Obama. It seems more than a coincidence that WWE changed its direction officially in the same year. Metaphysical change is one of those things that happens with broad force, but little overt warning. It just kind of happens.
The most well known wrestler of WWE’s early metamodern era was John Cena. Drawing from both 1980’s modernist kitsch and 1990’s postmodern cynicism, Cena created a new paradigm for professional wrestling. He conveyed his feelings in an overly earnest manner, yet maintained a sense of irony and sharp detached wit. Instead of trying to stir the hedonistic passions of young fans, he sought to inspire them through positivity. He wore custom shirts with mantras like ‘never give up’ and ‘hustle, loyalty, respect’. And in an explicitly metamodern twist, Cena would go on to become the single most prolific ‘wish granter’ for the well known ‘Make-A-Wish Foundation’. Cena’s earnest persona, and genuine real world acts, reflected the change that was happening in the culture at large. There was a yearning for hope and meaning that was light years removed from the total cynicism of the 90’s.
Before WWE’s 2008 official entry into its metamodern era, there was an unofficial changing of the metaphysical guard. After Vince McMahon absorbed ECW in 2003 he decided to keep the brand alive in various forms instead of completely ending it. He knew that even though times were changing, the last postmodern gasps of ECW could still generate interest and revenue. This led to WWE producing ECW pay per view events in 2005 and 2006; with each one being dubbed ‘ECW One Night Stand’.
However, it was the main event of the 2006 pay per view that became a physical manifestation of two underlying cultural paradigms crashing into one another. Taking place at the cozy Hammerstein Ballroom in New York City, the main attraction of the evening was a championship match between rising WWE star John Cena, and an old favorite of ECW diehards; Rob Van Dam. Cena, with his earnest persona and positivity represented the metamodern age that was just around the corner. While the pot smoking, kind of sketchy looking Van Dam represented the last vestiges of postmodern, hedonistic cool. Yet the significance of the match wouldn’t be defined by either of the wrestlers. It was the crowd in attendance that would bring the meaning of the night to life.
The best way to describe the vibe of an ECW crowd would be to imagine the rowdiest football fans tossed into a mosh pit at a heavy metal concert. Now imagine the mayhem that ensued wasn’t just fueled by the event. But that it was also fueled by the idea that what the crowd was experiencing might not be seen very often, or ever again. It’s kind of like going to see the last ever show of your favorite musical act. Your emotional state will be a bit different than if you were attending a performance in the middle of their career. The ECW crowd at the Hammerstein Ballroom that night in 2006 was primed to the highest level. Events had shown them the postmodern time of ECW was coming to an end, and they were going to hedonistically indulge in every moment that was left. If postmodern cynicism taken to its extreme conclusion results in nihilism, the One Night Stand crowd seemed determined to get there. The theme of the night was summed up nicely by a sign hanging from the balcony seating that read, ‘If Cena wins, we riot’.
Dropping John Cena into the ECW crowd that night was like dropping pieces of bloody meat into a fish tank full of piranhas. Cena’s earnest, metamodern persona was greeted with venomous boos and middle fingers as he made his way stoically to the ring. Cena played his part well as threw his t-shirt into the crowd. This earnest ‘gift giving’ was greeted with hard cynicism as the t-shirt was thrown back into the ring from a sea of middle fingers and curse words. After about three or four more attempts, Cena gave up and dropped his shirt just outside the ring. Loud chants of ‘Fuck You Cena!’ filled the venue, among other no so politically correct barbs. It was a night that brought into clear view the postmodern response to naive modernism, and the ensuing reaction of metamodernism to postmodernism.
The ECW fans that night were responding to the naive, boy scout, PG nature of John Cena. Because for them he was fake; he wasn’t real or authentic. He was a sellout to the groups that had created the false modernist narratives they had no use for. They saw being real as embracing the ills of the human condition, and indulging human passions or appetites. For them, Cena represented a kind of faux morality that sought to determine what was appropriate for them to say or do. It was almost as if Cena represented a metaphysical return to what they had successfully destroyed in the 1990’s.
Yet for Cena his persona wasn’t a modernist act, it was metamodern sincerity. He wasn’t trying to be someone, he was trying to be himself. He really did want to create meaning and hope in people’s lives. He didn’t become the most prolific wish granter in Make-A-Wish history to spin a narrative. He did it because he recognized that for a sick or dying child to desire to spend their one wish on him, was more meaningful and purposeful than he could ever imagine. In Cena’s own words he was in awe of the ‘joy’ he could bring to the kids and their families. This kind of sincerity pervaded his in-ring persona, which is why he was so antithetical to those clinging on to the postmodern paradigm.
The current metamodern age in the culture at large seems to have some sticking power. An argument could be made that it is the final logical resting point between the swinging opposites of modernism and postmodernism. WWE seems to have settled into a mode where its wrestlers embrace sincere feeling, yet retain aspects of cynicism and irony. Individuality and creativity has become a primary component in deciding which wrestlers gain popularity. In what could be seen as a metamodern gesture, the WWE created a ‘performance center’ in 2013 to help aspiring talent hone their wrestling and creative skills.
One of the hallmarks of this metamodern age is that it is wide open. There are no modernist grand narratives or postmodern feelings to intuitively guide or direct a young individual’s behavior. The WWE’s performance center is seemingly an attempt to fill this vacuum. Its existence is a nice analogy for our metamodern time. Things are so atomized and dissolved from a metaphysical standpoint, we literally have to create new structures to tell us how to be, or how to act. In order to find which direction to head these days, we need to create new things that tell us where to go. For the past forty years, WWE has rode the underlying culture to success. Its trajectory over that time functions as a good example of how pop culture can sometimes serve as a map that actually reflects the deeper, metaphysical territory underneath.