Monday, February 8, 2016

Last night's game.

I'll be the first to admit, I am not a football fan.  In fact, I can name exactly one player on each of the teams that squared off in yesterday's Super Bowl.

I find the game too violent. Too brutal. Too faceless. Too too.

That said, along with 114 million other viewers around the world, including half of our $700 billion armed forces who seemed to be at the game or flying over it in $75 million jets, I tuned in at 6:26 or so, just in time to get a panoply of patriotic songs just this side of Horst Wessel.

The game itself I found boring.

Both defenses seemed to hold both offenses in check and the game ground on like the Battle of Verdun with inches being traded back and forth and no knock out blows or even real advances.

Unfortunately, that which I was looking forward to was a disappointment. The commercials were to the art of persuasion what Kraft American Singles are to cheese or Ripple is to wine.

Three words come to my mind.

Predictable. Overwrought. And overthought.

I felt as if every committee approving every ad had obtained a book called something like, "Super Bowl ads for Dummies," and followed a step by step process to make sure everyone in every conference room and every focus group grinned and drooled like a burn victim on too much morphine.

To be completely honest, I turned off the game after the Pepsi half-time show. Between the music, the fireworks, the dumbest logo known to man and the thrusting forward of various body parts by Bruno Mars and Beyonce, well, I had had more than enough of popular culture.

Also I continue to be appalled by tax-payer built stadiums filled only with one-percenters. Next time you think the "system" isn't rigged, look at who gets to go to games like these and then look at who paid for the facilities. The poor pay. The rich go.

I guess it comes down to this.

I've read too much Roman history to be amused by shit like last night.

And I'd rather not see it again.

At least till next year.

No comments: