In professional wrestling, more often than not, the guy wins. The rules are broken. Referees are powerless to prevent the villain's humiliation and of the helpless victim. But in other professional sports, the games are fair and the virtues of training and hard work combined with talent determine the winner. This is the dominant ideology which characterizes American professional sports. Professional wrestling stands in sharp contrast to this ideal of competitive athletics. As a result, the debate over whether professional wrestling is a legitimate sport has been carried on for decades. But for many wrestling fans, that debate is irrelevant. Professional wrestling continues to be a staple of weekend cable television programming and its pay-per-view events continue to make millions of dollars annually. Wrestling's draw large audiences without the legitimacy that is bestowed upon other professional sports by the mainstream media. This paper looks at the popular pleasure that is offered by professional wrestling's bad guys and a closer examination of the appeal of three recent wrestling villains. John Fiske describes professional wrestling as an example of one of the pleasures offered by television which can evade, resist, or scandalize ideology and social control (1987 240). In a postmodern world, wrestling appears to perform many of the functions of the carnival as described by Bakhtin. The carnival, according to Bakhtin, was characterized by laughter excessiveness, particularly of the body, by taste, offensiveness, and degradation (Fiske 1987, 241). For Bakhtin, the carnival celebrated temporary liberation from the prevailing truth and from the established order (Fiske 1987, 241). As Fiske points out, television may provide comparatively little of the carnivalesque, but it is concerning itself more and more with the language of (1987 249). Wrestling is an extreme form of television, like MTV, which uses a visual style characterized by an insistence on the importance of the signifier, physical sensations, the surface and the body. In wrestling today, the bodies of the most popular villains are usually of such an extreme nature that they even make the atypical physiques of professional footbal and basketball players look normal by comparison. The bodies of professional wrestlers are excessively beautiful and muscular or they can be extraordinarily large and obese or grotesque. A recent wrestler on the scene is Giant Gonzales who has been described as being eight feet tall and weighing more than four-hundred pounds. Another wrestler, the Narcissist Lex Lugar is so preoccupied with his own body that he brings a mirror ringside, where he usually spends more time admiring his own physique than he does doing battle in the ring. For this wrestler and the wrestling fans, the meaning of Lex Lugar is completely found on the surface, on the physicality of the body. As the French scientist of signs Roland Barthes says, for the wrestling public matters is not what it thinks but what it (1972 15). And the signs that the public sees with a wrestler like Lex Lugar are absolutely clear. There is no confusion and the role of the wrestler is obvious. Barthes writes: What is portrayed by wrestling is therefore an ideal understanding of things; it is the euphoria of men raised for awhile above the constitutive ambiguity of everyday situations and placed before the panoramic view of univocal Nature, in which signs at last correspond to causes, without obstacle, wtihout evasion, without contradiction (1972 25). When the tall, dark brooding figure of one of television's recent popular wrestlers, The Undertaker, enters the ring accompanied by a dracula-like manager carrying an urn reportedly filled with the ashes of the dead, there is no ambiguity about the role he is playing. The signs are excessive. Similar to the pleasure of the carnival, Barthes also describes wrestling, not as a sport, but as a spectacle of excess (1972 15). …
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