The WWE in a Post-Truth Society

With both arms above my head, I ascend the armoire like the Undertaker in his infamous cage match against Mick Foley. I sing my own intro music and jump from the perch six feet up, flopping onto my older brother like a pancake tossed high in the air. Immediately, we begin to tussle. Arms flailing, legs kicking, elbows thrown, we re-enact moves from our favorite show at the time, WWF SmackDown! Moments before my mother calls us down for dinner, my brother shouts, “DO YOU SMELLLLLLLLL WHAT THE ROCK…IS…COOKING?!” I attempt to squirm my way out of the grapple. With one hand on my lower back, my brother…