#to write about how Swerve Strickland may be both Lord and Lady M. at the same time

[totallyboatless]

Pip Gets High and Writes an Essay: Wrestling and Shakespeare Edition

Hello friends, today was stressful and I want to distract myself, so it is time for another writing-while-high game. For those new, here's the breakdown:

I'm about to take an edible. I'll time stamp when I took it and when I've realized it's hit. You will almost certainly realize it's hit before me

I will write this in one go with minimal editing. If I got back to edit or add a note, it will be from "Pip From the Future" who will be significantly more high

This is a topic I've thought about before, but have never sat down to write out

Additional notes:

I was super into wrestling when I was a kid in the 90s/early 2000s, fell off of it, and then was reintroduced this January when my boyfriend got me into AEW (I'm almost entirely going to be talking about AEW btw--I'm not as into WWE). So though it's become a significant hyperfixation this year, I'm still new to modern-day wrestling. Please forgive the inevitable mess ups.

2. I love Shakespeare with a passion and have taken a handful of classes and seen a lot of performances, but I'm by no means a scholar. Please forgive the inevitable mess ups.

OKAY WITH THAT: Devil's candy eaten at 10:22pm Mountain Time.

Now let's get into:

Wrestling is More Shakespearean Than Many Modern Day Shakespeare Performances

Part 1: When the Audience is a Character, Theatre Hits Different

I wrote about this in my previous weed-induced essay, but one of my favorite performances of A Midsummer Night's Dream of all time is the 2019 Bridge Theatre's version with Gwendolyn Christie (it was filmed, highly recommend checking it out on the National Theatre streaming service or...by other means). There's a whole lot to love about the production (it's so gay, guys, like SO gay), but one of the absolute highlights is the way that the stage is set up.

The stage is like theatre-in-the-round on crack. It's made up of multiple moving parts, and as the tech crew attaches and detaches parts of the stage to move throughout the space, the crowd needs to ebb and flow along with them. The actors engage directly with the audience, often as the catalyst to get them to move in order to make way for the stage changing.

Anyone who's ever studied Shakespeare, even in the most casual of ways, knows that in the original productions, especially for the Comedies, the audience was encouraged to interact with the show and actors--it was deeply immersive. The Globe Theatre isn't fully in the round, but it almost is; no matter where someone sat or stood, they could see the face of another audience member. Their shared reactions and interactions were an integral part of the experience.

This wasn't unique to Shakespeare, but this setup works particularly well when dealing with stories whose core (no matter the genre) are about visceral human experiences. Being able to feel something, whether it's joy or pain, and directly see someone else experiencing the same thing in the same way amplifies theatre in a gorgeous way. There's nothing like that feeling of connection with someone you'll never talk to.

Seeing the recorded Bridge Theatre's production of A Midsummer Night's Dream made me realize how much I missed that feeling of being completely immersed in a story, and I still feel so jealous when I watch the audience in the recording. I fucking love being surrounded by people whose bodies thrum along with my energy at a show. Shortly after watching it, I went to see a live performance of A Winter's Tale, and it was a good time--but it was on a normal stage, the barrier between the audience and the story well established. It was a show being performed at the audience, not with them.

And that's how most modern day theatre productions are, Shakespeare or not. And it makes sense from a logistics perspective--a lot of people are assholes when they're given the freedom to interact with a show. They take advantage, especially in the age of social media when the temptation to do something to make you go viral is there. And people pay a lot of money for live theatre now and don't want their experience disrupted. (it's high Pip from the future--I finally realized the thing I wanted to say here that was going to make for a better segue: Shakespeare doesn't just love the idea of an immersed audiences, he also saw the magic of "audience as character." So many of his plays break the fourth wall and are meant to be delivered to the audience not as performance but as someone sharing their deepest secrets to a friend). I get it, but in some ways it feels like an opportunity at magic is lost.

UNTIL I GOT INTO THE BIG MEATY MEN SLAPPIN' MEAT

It wasn't hard to sell me on wrestling since I already loved it as a kid, but there was one video in particular that my boyfriend showed me that flipped the switch so hard my brain lit up like Mark Briscoe got a hold of the pyrotechnics.

The video in question is Invisible Man vs. Invisible Stan, in which two invisible wrestlers fight each other. When my boyfriend first told me about this, I thought two dudes in green suits were going to come out, or that everybody was going to pretend they couldn't see two real-life dudes. But my guys IT IS A FULL FIGHT BETWEEN TWO IMAGINARY WRESTLERS.

I'm not kidding in the least when I say this video is one of my top favorite pieces of art from the modern world. It's a story told entirely by two entities: The referee (Bryce Remsburg) and the audiences. And yeah, I'm considering the audience one entity--just watch the video, the way they all meld together is WILD. The crowd is fully bought in, they all take cues off of Bryce and each other in order to collectively decide where the Invisible Man and Invisible Stan are and they move accordingly. That bit where one of the wrestlers goes up to the balcony and jumps down, and like 10 people all fall in unison as if they've been landed on--are you KIDDING ME?! That shit is some of the best improvisational collaborative storytelling I've ever seen--and it could never have happened if the audience wasn't as much of a character as Bryce or the wrestlers. Seriously go watch it, it's incredible.

"The audience is a character" is a sacred rule in pro wrestling--audience participation is the meat of what moves storylines along, and can (and has) literally change(d) the course of character arcs over the years. They set the tone for matches: for the audience back home, for the actors, and most importantly for each other. They chant together, they hold signs together, they gasp together.

(They chant "he's gay he's gay he's gay" in the kindest way those words have ever been spoken -- high Pip from the future, i went to go grab the link to insert bc i had forgot and i rewatched the video so the rest of this video.........this is not a video, but it's playing in my head as one. Anyway I'm tearing up that is such a good gay moment. Also for non-wrestling people reading this -- why are you reading this? -- that tall blonde man is named Daddy Ass. I need you all to go look up the story of how "Scissor me, Daddy Ass" came to be if you do not know it. Unrelated my keyboard feels like it's tilting)

They give the ability for actors to feel more immersed, themselves. A wild crossover I never expected: Anthony Burch (DM for Dungeons & Daddies) held up a sign for a Kenny Omega match that references a years-long storyline that's HONESTLY HEARTBREAKING LIKE JESUS FUCK THE GAY TEARS IT MAKES ME CRY THEY CALLED THEMSELVES THE GOLDEN LOVERS ARE YOU *KIDDING* ME--

(Aside: Is this the first time the edible hits and I realize the same time as you guys? Time 11:17pm, almost an hour after taking it. Or am I going to read this back tomorrow and be like "what the fuck that is gibberish.")

Anyway, I'm not going to go into it (that's Super Eyepatch Wolf's job)--all you need to know is Anthony's sign stopped Kenny Omega in his tracks. His face changes as he sees the sign, and it feels like the energy from that reaction carries him through the rest of the match. It gives a beautiful additional motivation to his character actions--and it never could have happened without an audience that was alive.

TL;DR and main point of part 1: Wrestling understands theatre-in-the-round productions and audience immersion in a way that many theatres don't understand or utilize the vast power of, and I think going to a live wrestling show would finally sate that desire that the Bridge Theatre's A Midsummer Nights Dream makes me feel that I haven't been able to find.

Shakespeare would fucking lose his shit over wrestling, man. He would be like "this is real theatre, baby." I'm not joking. I think he'd think that. And not just because of the "audience as character." OH HEY WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT

Part 2: Good Wrestling Stories Are Fueled By a Core Made of Visceral Human Experiences of Joy and Pain and Mortality and Legacy, Shakespeare also did that

Nailed it, what a good title

When we talk about Shakespeare not being as high bro and pretentious as the general public often thinks it is, we're not just talking about the dick jokes (though there's a lot of dick jokes).

(Aside: I'm not sure who the "we" is I'm referring to--who the fuck am i to be using academic talk i literally just spent too long that i want to admit trying to spell academic)

(Aside again: aHIGHed. Is that anything? That's nothing. Don't look at me)

Shakespeare isn't just low-brow, it's also incredibly accessible on a story level. Obviously the language is hard to overcome, but if you boil any Shakespeare story to its bones to explain to someone, they're stories almost everyone can relate to in some way:

In the tragedies:

The experience of deep grief, and the existential crisis of mortality that comes with it

Loving deeply and passionately while the world tells you it's better to hate, and the existential crisis of mortality that comes with it

The desire for legacy, how your story will be written in the minds of those left behind, and the existential crisis of mortality that comes with it

In the comedies:

The hilarity of being part of a friend group when relationship drama is going down, and you know two of your friends have a crush on each other

Having a fantasy about romping around with horny faeries in the forest

Enjoying sex jokes, twins, and weddings

Doing trans shit and then being really bisexual about it

Good wrestling, when it boils down to it, approaches storylines in a similar way of centering visceral human emotions.

So which genre is wrestling? It can be sad and happy and gay, sometimes all at once.

Wait I thought of a funnier way to say this:

Broke: Wrestling can't be put into a Shakespeare genre of Tragedy or Comedy because it's both at times

Woke: Wresting is a History

(Aside: GOD this is like the core of what I wanted to write about but it's almost midnight and I am p r o p e r high now, I keep staring off into space and my beanie is squeezing my head--if you like this next part and want me to talk about it more maybe i'll do it sober)

(Aside: I was about to go into a full aside here about Prince Nana and the ongoing bit from multiple characters that they want his weed...but we don't have time for that)

My favorite Shakespearean monologue is the "Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs" speech from King Richard II. I have those first words tattooed on my upper thigh, like some kind of pretentious slut. Anyway, the monologue is all about how kings only become kings and stop being kings due to one main thing: death. And there's this part that goes:

For within the hollow crown that rounds the mortal temples of a king keeps death his court

In a recording of Ian McKellen receiting these words, he takes a crown and tilts it at the audience until it becomes an O.

A crown is something that's coveted, given so much weight and meaning and power. And yet when you look in the middle, it's ultimately hollow.

Belts are crowns, you got I was going there, right? A wrestling belt is a stand in for a crown, it's a symbol of proven power, it's coveted beyond anything else. But ultimately, it's hollow.

And just like with kings, there's only way one to win a belt and to lost a belt.

Well like metaphorically. It's not death with this one, and it's not like when wrestlers lose their characters die off. But like defeat is a metaphor for death in this. You get me.

There are.....

Fuck my brain is fully breaking friends, lol. This weed friend has sent my mind to space. I gotta wrap it. There's some more thoughts on this, and wanting to tie some parallel stories (Orange Cassidy has big Prince Hal vibes, etc.) Maybe I'll return to this sober, or maybe this is way too niche of a crossover and no one will read this lol. If you read this, I appreciate you.

I'm truly unsure if this is readable but i gotta commit to this bit even tho i just got freaked out by my own fingers for a second (we're good now) so gonna post

/end