Friday, January 30, 2015

Only two more days of Super Hell

Buckle down, folks. These are the worst two days of the year: The last 48 hours of Super Bowl Hype Week II. It doesn't get worse than this.

OK, I know what you're thinking: Duque, if you can't take the hype, stay out of the TV room. But it's not that simple. To escape the Super Bowl, you need a sensory deprivation tank, killer weed, and maybe a frontal lobotomy. It's not the "hype" that gets you. If the so-called "serious news media" simply ran honest Super Bowl ads, I could hack it. It's that wink-wink, self-indulgent, look-at-me-be-cool air of "serious news reporters," as they pretend to find meaning in stories that do nothing more than promote the NFL, which is even more evil than Vladimir Putin with a Oijah board, and which makes the hammy heirs and heiresses who own Major League Baseball teams look like marauding boys in the Wishbone version of "Lord of the Flies." Super Bowl Hype Week II is like a thousand Entertainment Tonights covering the People's Choice Awards, if hosted by the Real Housewives of wherever the hell the "real housewives" come from - Hell, I suppose. And the last two days of Super Hell Week - that's where we are now. Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick...

For the last two weeks, the "serious news media" has trowled out fake relevance about "Deflategate," all the while privately assuring us that 1) It's Super Bowl time, hooray! 2) It's just a game, ha ha! 3) Boys are still boys, ha ha! 4) Maybe Katy Perry's bra will open, hooray! and 5) Our panel of experts will rate the new ads, yippee! The NFL stretches one overly extended game into a two-week block of American brainwashing, if my car had snow tires, I'd drive to Bristol, Connecticut, and sniper the damn place, or at least subject somebody - anybody - to an old-fashioned waterboarding.

Soon, it will be over. We can briefly forget the spouse-beatings, the racist "Redskins," the brain damage of concussions, the lapdance-loving Jerry Jones, deflated balls, the woeful Jersey Giants, everything, everything - and start awaiting the first torn elbow of Tampa - yes, the first media riot around A-Rod's expensive car... the first old fart to arrive in "the finest shape of his career." (Remember how they claimed Andruw Jones had moved in with A-Rod and taken up his workout schedule, looking to reclaim his "Hall of Fame" level career?) The first home run by Zolio Almonte - wait! WE DON'T HAVE ZOLIO ALMONTE ANYMORE!

Two more days. Do they even sell sensory deprivation tanks?

7 comments:

  1. what gets me is the pretentious use of Roman numerals for the super bowl. I wonder how many typical NFL fans even know what the hell they mean.

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  2. Do they even sell sensory deprivation tanks?

    Michael Jackson's might be available. Have you checked any of the California Craigslists?

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  3. I turn to Henry Kissinger for this one:

    It's a shame that they can't both lose.

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  4. PS

    LBJ, I really like your photo.

    Which police department took it?

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  6. RTF:

    It's actually my prom picture. I airbrushed my date out of the photo because she wouldn't put out.

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  7. I think that I'm going to sit this one out. I loathe Seattle and their "fan base". Trademark the number twelve? Get out of my face with that shit you pay Texas A&M for the rights to use it. And the Patriots, well I would like to see happen to them what happened to the Gotham Steelers. Just have the field implode and Bane come out snap Belichick's neck and declare that Phoenix is his city now.

    In short, Rufus nailed it.

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