Ich kann nicht anders.

Dear Wrestling,

I've cancelled my WWE network subscription. I have one last ticket, to a RAW before Summerslam, but I'm trying to give that away.

I have a good footing in New Japan now, and I have a beloved local promotion I attend monthly: given that WWE isn't my only source for wrestling anymore, I've decided to stop watching. To be clear, not only is not my only source, it's also the worst wrestling I watch in a week.

"Worst?? I thought you loved Kevin Owens! What about the New Day, they're why started you loving wrestling in the first place!"

Moral calculus is hard and brittle. I'm doing the best I can, and I assume those men are as well. This is what matters most to me, right now, in no particular order:

1. Hulk Hogan is a racist. He said so himself. Some of the best wisdom I've ever heard is Maya Angelou's "When someone tells you who they are, believe them. The first time."  He has made no sincere apology that I have seen, and has definitely not performed any actions that would show such an apology to be internalized and life-changing.

2. Vince McMahon is a fascist. He has his own small empire (and I use that term in the full historical sense, as an entity which has colonies from which it removes wealth while providing nothing of substance in return) and now that we have a fascist in the White House, he has redoubled his efforts to promote hatred and xenophobia--more than usual. His wife works for that evil administration, and he has at least once used its propaganda in a storyline (Sami Zayn and Bobby Lashley's "sisters").

3. My money doesn't go to support the wrestlers or their families practically at all. My understanding is that they get almost nothing from the network, around $3 on t shirts, etc. To be honest, I won't be noticed in my absence, let alone missed.

4. The writing is atrocious. It would have been dated and out of touch in the 90s, let alone now. Last week I heard Seth Rollins make a sheep-shagger joke about Drew McIntyre. In 2018. It was once much, MUCH worse of course, and this is taken as permission to remain lazy and dismal.

5. WWE retain an insane level of control of their workers, while giving none of the benefits associated in the modern world with working for a large corporation--health insurance, vacation, a work-life balance...

6. Much of this to say, these workers need to unionize desperately. I could see an argument for independent wrestlers remaining as they are, but WWE workers are at the (nonexistent) mercy of one man, ultimately, and a man who has proven at every chance that he does not have their well-being in mind.

There's more, of course, but this is what comes to mind easily. I just can't bear paying for the privilege of being disrespected as a human being on a weekly basis, not anymore. If the analogy is that it's 1938 again, and I believe we are in a version of that era, then I can't keep buying Bayer, I'm not buying a new Volkswagen, etc. Not when there are options that don't cause me to have a moral crisis every time the bill comes due.

Finally let me stress most of all that I understand deeply the need for escape in this world. I absolutely approve of that impulse, it is one that keeps us sane, as much as possible. I would never presume to make this decision for someone else: it's painful enough to make for me. I don't say any of this to judge or shame someone for choosing differently. This is my place to communicate with my own little god of Wrestling, and that's all.

I do still love those wrestlers. I hope they do well and stay healthy.

Love,
Autumn

The Difficulty of Reality

Dear Wrestling,

Did you know that your eyes do this thing called saccades and that one thing it kind of means is that you never really see what you think you're seeing? Also your peripheral vision lacks color--your brain fills it in, sure, but the physical structure of your eye isn't doing that.

Basically our brains lie to us all the time about what we're seeing and feeling and experiencing, just to try to get through a freaking day.

I did my degree in Religious Studies, primarily in Buddhism and Eastern Religions. A few times in classes, it came up that this incredibly hard work of trying to become aware and present and awake? It might be bad for us. My mentor was quick to be honest: this might not be the best path for me or you. It might hurt more than it helps, and I can't know which it will be--you can't either.

I had some traumas when I was a little kid. Pretty bad ones, which I then did not quite remember until I was well into my twenties. That's a defense mechanism, and it worked outrageously well: I was a happy, active, smart little kid. I had a great childhood--the normal bullies and doubts and things, but overall I look back and it's all bike rides and long summer days and drinking out of the hose in Brandon Kincaid's yard...

This is a long way around to say, it's probably a good thing that it's nearly impossible to imagine what people in Syria are going through. It's probably, for us and our loved ones at least, a good thing.

It's not a prerequisite of helping that we become traumatized ourselves--or that we add to the trauma we're already carrying.

I've struggled to articulate why I feel so grateful to be able to help with Sami for Syria. It feels hideous on the face of it--am I grateful that these people are hurting? What am I, trying to put a white savior complex to work?

And no, of course not! But the situation is one of the worst in the world. It's hell on earth. To be able to give a little, and know that I'm paying for a bandage, or a splint--that's incredible. That is the keenest relief. Studies on PTSD and trauma are still pretty new, but one of the things we know is that being able to exert any control, however small, makes an enormous difference in one's chances of developing PTSD.

We're not, thank all good things, we're not helpless. It's not the politics, it's not grounding the warplanes or rebuilding homes (yet) but it can be the actual difference between life and death.

"I just think as our capacity as human beings, we’re limited to truly understand that suffering, unless we’ve experienced it ourselves. I guess my message would really just be, if you’re grateful that this isn’t happening to you and you’re in a position to help… well, now there’s this fund that is a direct line where your money, your donation, however big, however small, is a direct way to help people who are in a really bad situation that I would imagine you never want to find yourself in. 

So, to me, it’s as simple as that. If you think this is a horrible situation, which I think almost, universally, everyone can agree that this is awful that civilians of Syria have to deal with this, and if you ask, I’m sure nine out of 10 people, if asked, “Hey, don’t you wish you could help?” I’m sure people would say, “Yes!” This is a direct way for you to help that’s been set up for you. Not only by me and this fundraising campaign, but by SAMS who’s doing all the legwork and grunt work, of actually making this stuff happen. We’ve set up a very easy and very direct way for anybody to help."


Dear, dear wrestling, I love you. Donate a little, sleep some, and have a good G1.

Autumn

SZDD

Dear Wrestling,

I've been joking today about suffering from Sami Zayn Deficiency Disorder, but it's one of those jokes with a seed of truth in the center.

I was so angry at Sami there for a few weeks. I'm not anymore. I'm not happy about what happened, of course, but knowing that he's been injured this whole time--well, I was begging for a good reason that he agreed to it, right? One busted shoulder is plenty good reason, let alone two.

So, that's the first thing: that fury evaporated the moment I heard about his injuries.

It's been months since he's been on Smackdown, but you know, I still associate Tuesdays with him? That's the day of the week I miss him worst--that's not precisely accurate, it's the day I think about him most. That mostly takes the form of hoping he's well, remembering that his improv show is coming up and hoping he has fun, and that my friend Marie has fun at the show, being grateful he's able to be creative while recovering...just wishing him the best.

I've barely watched WWE the past couple weeks. I catch Kevin's parts, of course--and I've heard he really likes working with Braun Strowman, so I'm guessing/hoping he's happy. But partly there's been a good bit of New Japan to watch, and I have a new schedule working both Monday and Tuesday evening, and when I tried to watch Raw today, to catch up, it was just...bland. Nothing about it was enough to make me really watch. I skimmed through, caught Kevin wearing his man's hoodie, caught Seth telling one of the Three Jokes About Scots that are apparently allowed (sheepshagger, romance novel cover, and Scrooge McDuck), and nothing there was enough.

It will come as absolutely no surprise to you that I adore fairy tales. I find them terribly useful for learning how to live and how to treat people.

One of my very favorites I learned as a kid, and it's a version of Cinderella with a bit of Lear thrown in. When the father goes to his three daughters and asks how much they love him, in order to determine his will, this Cinderella tells him, "I love you like meat loves salt." The other sisters denounce this as the worst nonsense and insult, and she's evicted to the woods. A spooky woman helps her, and makes her a dress of Spanish moss.

The crux of the story is when Cinderella is working as a cook in secret in her poor blind father's house, and she prepares a meal for him with no salt. He complains and complains, and she brings out the salt cellar and whispers in his ear, "I love you like meat loves salt."

WWE, for me, right now, needs salt.

Love,
Autumn