There seems to be disagreement within the "nerd community" as to exactly what constitutes nerd-culture branding. I, like many millennials, grew up reading comics and watching Saturday morning shows such as "Batman: The Animated Series," "Pokémon," and of course, "Power Rangers." I fell in love with the "Star Wars" universe when the films were rereleased in theaters in the '90s. I played my share of video games like "Donkey Kong Country" and "Mortal Kombat." In my youth, I accrued a vast collection of Pogs (Google it, kids) and yes, "Magic: The Gathering" cards. For the most part, all of these then primarily "nerd-centric" activities have crossed over into the mainstream, or at the very least are now viewed positively through nostalgia-tinted glasses.



While nerd culture and pop culture persistently meld together, there is one subsection that continues to receive venom and resistance concerning its "nerd cred"—and that subsection is professional wrestling.



While it's true I grew up enjoying all the "nerdy" activities listed above, one interest that I seemingly always redact from this list is pro wrestling—and I'm not entirely sure why.



Professional wrestling seems to harbor the qualities that most nerd-culture enthusiasts demand from their entertainment: outlandish storytelling, larger-than-life characters, and over-the-top battles between good and evil. Pro wrestling is essentially, at its core, a live-action comic book. From the slick and glossy outfits wrestlers and comic book heroes wear to factions such as Marvel's The Avengers and WWE's D-Generation X, both are close in nature, yet comics are viewed by some to possess some innate discernible virtue while wrestling is perceived more like a backwoods cock fight.



Former WWE champion CM Punk recently retweeted one outraged "nerd" who said, "Please stay off the Nerdist channel. 'Wrassling' is not a nerd-thing." This divide seems to be prevalent in the zeitgeist and can be a bit perplexing. Some may argue that the depiction of women and/or the violent nature of pro wrestling are the main contributors to the pushback.



While I certainly wouldn't argue with the observation that pro wrestling has a history of exploiting women, comics may have an even more illustrious and damaging history of illustrating women with anatomically impossible shapes and curves. Also, at times, the newest Batman movie can be every bit as violent as wrestling. However, the violence pales in comparison to the thousands and thousands of fake people that gamers kill on a regular basis in video games like "Call of Duty" or even "Uncharted."



Ultimately, why do media in the forms of comic books, video games, and even film benefit from the "it's only entertainment" idiom while "wrassling" continues to suffer even in this nerd-culture boom?

The answer comes up in almost any conversation that I have involving wrestling—"You know it's fake, right?" Fake!? The idea of phoniness is simultaneously the foundation and destruction of the medium. For some reason, pro wrestling was never given the hall pass for "suspending disbelief" that allows movies, comics, and video games to thrive.

One of the cornerstones of pro wrestling is protecting the business—essentially carrying on as if each match, confrontation, feud, or character is as real as the bruises on the wrestlers' backs. This core component of wrestling lore may ultimately prove to be the very reason for its stunted hipness. Every wrestling fan remembers the day they realized the "sport" they loved was in reality just predetermined aggressive ballet—an elaborate hoax that feeds the psyche of prepubescent teens the idea that real-life superheroes actually exist. For the most part, comics and movies don't have this preconceived notion to overcome—there is rarely a "You know it's fake, right?" conversation over "Pulp Fiction" or "The Walking Dead."

It seems that it's easier to get on board with flying robots, a grown man dressed as a bat, and a few talking-while-kung-fuing turtles—but a soap opera in the guise of a sport? Too. Far.

William Steakin, Jr. is a General Studies sophomore majoring in political science. Fandom Menace runs alternate Thursdays.