Professional wrestling, whose blue-collar fans toil at recession's ground zero, is nothing if not topical. Where once aficionados hissed the foreign-bred likes of Fritz von Erich and the Iron Sheik, the World Wrestling Federation's newest batch of ring rogues is made in the USA.
For example, a burly chap named "IRS" harangues the crowd with accusations of "tax cheat" and enjoys bonking competitors with a heavy briefcase (note: symbolism). Then there is Repo Man, a sneaky masked villain who vows to "repossess" the championship belt.Down the road perhaps - - Killer Keating. Threatens to plunder spectators' savings. When in trouble, this rule-breaker pulls a brass senator from his trunks.
- The Incumbent. Does little between the ropes. In fact, he spends most of his time running, stopping only to clamp on the dreaded "tax bite." Somehow, though, he keeps winning.
- The Ultimate Bureaucrat. "Out of a job?" this mountain of a man growls. "Your check's in the mail." He dispatches adversaries simply by burying them under his enormous bulk or by applying the inescapable "red tape."
However luridly, professional wrestling seems to have its fingers on the public pulse. If President Bush needs some new economic advice, well. . . .
Calling Hulk Hogan.