From pro wrestling and Pokémon to Insane Clown Posse and Jerry Springer, this look at the low culture of the late ’90s reveals its profound impact and how it continues to affect our culture and society today.
The year 1999 was a high-water mark for popular culture. According to one measure, it was the “best movie year ever.” But as journalist Ross Benes shows, the end of the ’90s was also a banner year for low culture. This was the heyday of Jerry Springer, Jenna Jameson, and Vince McMahon, among many others. Low culture had come into its own and was poised for world domination. The reverberations of this takeover continue to shape American society.
During its New Year’s Eve countdown, MTV entered 1999 with Limp Bizkit covering Prince’s famous anthem to the new year. The highlights of the lowlights continued when WCW and WWE drew 35 million American viewers each week with sex appeal and stories about insurrections. Insane Clown Posse emerged from the underground with a Woodstock set and platinum records about magic and murder. Later that year, Dance Dance Revolution debuted in North America and Grand Theft Auto emerged as a major video game franchise. Beanie Babies and Pokémon so thoroughly seized the wallets and imagination of collectors that they created speculative investment bubbles that anticipated the faddish obsession over nonfungible tokens (NFTs). The trashy talk show Jerry Springer became daytime TV’s most-watched program and grew so mainstream that Austin Powers, Sabrina the Teenage Witch, The Wayans Bros., The Simpsons, and The X-Files incorporated Springer into their own plots during the late ’90s. Donald Trump even explored a potential presidential nomination with the Reform Party in 1999 and wanted his running mate to be Oprah Winfrey, whose own talk show would make Dr. Oz a household name.
Benes shows us how so many of the strangest features of culture in 1999 predicted and influenced American life today. This wild ride through pop culture uncovers the connections between the kayfabe of WWE and the theatrics of politics, between the faddish obsession with Beanie Babies and with NFTs, between faithful fans and political loyalists, between violent video games and society’s scapegoats, and much more. 1999 is not just a nostalgic look at the past. It is also a window into our contentious present.
Huh. Perhaps the 90s weren't a total waste of time. Who knew?
I kid! I am after all mostly a product of the 90s. I was born in 1982 which means I didn't really know what was going on until the final decade of the millennium. Ross Benes makes the argument in his book 1999 that this particular year explains a lot of the messes we have today because Stone Cold says so. If you don't understand that reference, then I just can't help you, friend.
I will admit to being slightly insulted by the subtitle: The Year Low Culture Conquered America and Kickstarted Our Bizarre Times. Low culture?! How dare you, Benes! Unfortunately, I found myself basically agreeing with him across the board as he makes his points. I won't say I agreed with all of his arguments, but Benes is not just writing a nostalgia hit piece. There is some real research and points being made (with sources!). Republicans and Democrats get called out and the media does not emerge unscathed. In some instances, Benes executes a fatality. (Again, if you don't get the reference then I am sorry, but you won't understand what is happening in this book.)
As a final test as to whether or not this book is for you, allow me to present a very important list: 1. Jerry Springer 2. GTA (yes, I intentionally am not spelling it out) 3. Vince McMahon 4. ICP (see my note for GTA) 5. Beanie Babies
I would posit that you should know at least three out of five before diving in.
If you are a 90s kid like me, I think you'll find there are some solid arguments with a healthy dose of nostalgia in this one. Give it a try.
(This book was provided as an advance copy by the author.)
In his book, author Ross Benes travels back to 1999 and examines how low culture dominated the American zeitgeist and paved the way for our crazy times today.
It was daytime talk show television that kick-started our obsession with scandalous must-see TV that glorified pushing the envelope. The main spotlight is, of course, placed on Jerry Springer but his contemporaries such as Geraldo Rivera, Jenny Jones, etc., are not without blame. As Springer gained steam, it almost felt like if you were a talk-show host, you needed to conform to what was becoming the contemporary style of shock television.
Deregulation is discussed – it allows media companies to buy multiple stations and conglomerate them into empires. These media empires began manufacturing and producing their own content with reality TV being the easiest and cost-effective to produce. This further allowed the purveyors of culture to shape and solidify national gossip and desire. As soon as reality TV became more and more accepted and widely available, there was a race to the bottom as to who could produce the cheapest and easiest program to rake in record profits. When looking at Trump’s race to the White House in 2016, he essentially became his source of constant 24/7 programming driving up ratings for news networks as well as endless views and clicks. I guess the cheaper it is to produce TV, the better.
The main reason we’re talking about this book today is its ties to pro wrestling. Much of the lead-up to the chapter on the 1999 boom year essentially lays the groundwork for Vince McMahon’s World Wrestling Federation taking advantage of the contemporary attitude of the era and weaving itself into the style of the time. Not only were celebrities intertwined within the weekly shows, but performers themselves were all over the television landscape. While WWE is certainly richer and more gigantic now than they’ve ever been, it’s hard to argue that they’ve never been more visible on a wider scale than they were in the late ’90s.
Benes later calls out the hypocrisy of how Chyna had been treated by WWE following her passing when the company leaned on highly sexualized material to keep from going under as well as spotlighting other performers with criminal histories and drug problems. And of course, that sort of paints a picture of some of the WWE’s questionable rewriting of their own history, whether it’s Vince projecting his own business practices onto Ted Turner when WCW was poaching his talent, the erasure of Chris Benoit, the narrative that the television battle taking place on January 4, 1999 was the beginning of the end for WCW, or its attempted sabotaging of Ultimate Warrior in 2005.
Ross goes further in essentially tying pro wrestling kayfabe into the modern political climate. It seems like the brashness and unbelievability of Donald Trump’s exaggerated claims jibe well with an audience of voters who enjoyed the heightened ridiculousness of Monday Night RAW. He points out a line from Eric Bischoff that the modern-day cable news presentation almost does a better job of selling feuds than wrestling does today, especially when you have someone like Trump who sells tickets to arena shows where he essentially “cuts promos” on his adversaries much like you would have seen Dwayne Johnson do at the height of the Attitude Era (not as well, mind you).
It’s not all wrestling, obviously. Ross discusses the collector market, most notably Beanie Babies, and the resulting craze and market crash that followed. The author ties that to the NFT craze from the early 2020s, which much like the Beanie Babies that preceded it, are all now virtually worthless. That’s not to say that all consumer-driven collectibles fell victim to fads. Time is given to Pokémon and the “gotta catch ‘em all” craze, a product that continues to hold value and attention.
There is a fantastic chapter detailing the rise of The Insane Clown Posse and how being portrayed as outsiders allowed their fans to find common ground as counter-culture ambassadors and a sort of pseudo-family, something that plays hard into today’s “us vs them” mindset amongst conservatives and progressives. It’s hard not to look at Hilary Clinton’s “deplorables” remarks and Trump’s “I love the poorly educated” response.
Being a teen in the 90s, it’s interesting to go back and look at all the low-culture hallmarks of the era, whether it’s with the Satanic Panic-like obsession over video games following the Columbine massacre, the dotcom bubble crash or the rise and subsequent fall (and rise again?) of Limp Bizkit. I can honestly say I did not expect there to be such strong ties between the pop culture of the ’90s and what we’re experiencing today, especially since it feels like we have better sensitivities in 2025 with respect to others. However, the results of the 2024 election beg to differ, I suppose.
In the best of ways, it does what it says on the tin. Do I agree with one of the central premises of the book, that 1999 kick started our times? Not exactly, although it was certainly a snapshot of a turning point in how the U.S. consumes entertainment.
Benes takes us in a delightful romp through the era. Proto Reality TV, Nu Metal, Pokemon, Horrorcore, 3D video game platforming, ultra violence as a punchline, the pro wrestling wars, and the concept of unlimited free porn. And all before the corporate overlords found a way to monetize everything through sterilization of the pure unadulterated creativity which permeated the era.
The type of creativity that can only come from a wild west of dirt bags who previously only held court in half finished basements. Your friend's older, college dropout brother, fresh out of rehab. Nobody you liked, but they could buy you cigarettes and MD 2020. These brave souls suddenly had a moment in the spotlight, and Benes celebrates them all with the reverence they deserve.
This book was such a fun read. If you grew up in the ’90s, it hits all the nostalgic stuff—wrestling, Pokémon, Jerry Springer, Limp Bizkit—it’s wild how much was going on. But what’s cool is how it ties all that ridiculousness to the world we live in now. It’s funny, relatable, and made me see how the weird stuff we grew up with actually shaped a lot of today’s culture. Definitely worth checking out.
I enjoyed this. Benes taps the vein of the late 90s zeitgeist in some good detail through the lens of professional wrestling, trashy talk TV, video game violence, and degenerate outsider music. In short, low culture. He details how low culture, love it or hate it, gave rise to the future of American culture.