Lady GaGa at the Superbowl…
Christ on a Cracker, when did life get so weird?
There’s a thing I recommend to all people (and in particular Americans). Unplug from the Matrix for a bit, shake it out, relax, breathe, then after a suitable absence (and only if you wish) join back with the collective. When you do… watch closely.
Distance allows you to see things with greater clarity. In recent memory I’ve seen the following:
- People wearing vagina costumes.
- Death threats against a dentist who went on a Safari.
- Anti smoking ads featuring crying cats.
- A president incapable of saying “Islamic” and “terrorism” in the same sentence, even when Islamic fundamentalists commit a terrorist attack.
- NSA spying. Stingray antennas. And crossing the Rubicon where law enforcement (through asset forfeiture) seizes more than actual theft.
- Movies (for adults) involving magic quasi-humans who wear tights and punch things.
- The rise of the K-Cup. (More on this later.)
- Heated debates about chicken sandwiches, wedding cakes, toilet choices, and sexuality.
- People mulling over the pros and cons of shooting a gorilla to save a human child.
Go ahead… tell me all that makes sense. Give it a shot, I’ll be here all day, read that list aloud and then say “all of these things make sense”. Do it!
Couldn’t do it could you? That’s because you’ve stepped back and witnessed it with the proper perspective. While one is in the midst of a Facebook shitstorm things seem logical but months later, at a distance, they seem; odd. Which brings me back to the topic at hand. I witnessed Lady Gaga.
You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me.
Broadcast live, from the center of Panem, was this… thing. Now I’m not a stick in the mud, I can appreciate artistry. I grok the idea that musical performer is a bit more outrageous than say… an accountant. I finally accepted that folks can wind up on stage without needing to play an instrument. I get that it’s the Superbowl and things are by definition over the top. But still…
It’s like the Joker had sex with a disco ball. Plus she didn’t seem to… um… well I thought her songs were… Well on a positive note they were on-key. Creative? Sure… for a definition of creative I guess. But honestly… she reminded me of the pomp and circumstance of the Hunger Games:
The photo above is from the Hunger Games. It’s a movie that features an oppressive dystopic capital city that has become unmoored from reality as it subjugates the deplorables in the hinterland. She’s meant to be a friggin metaphor. Yet Effie Trinket is named, dressed, and acts more demurely than Lady Gaga.
Can you honestly say this object looks significantly different than a particularly well coiffed version of the trustfunder who lectures you about dying polar bears while fucking up your latte at Starbucks?
This sent my mind racing. Are we already witnessing Panem? Maybe we’ve been there for years?!? For example, there’s this:
I concluded that I’d submitted myself quite enough to both Panem’s horseshit and watching Tom Brady get shredded. I finished my fourth beer and wandered out into the streets. Boy did I time it badly!
I forgot that this is a new era; a time of change and unpredictability. A time when all things are possible. The Cubs broke an 108 year dry spell, the excellent and unbeatable Clinton machine was trounced by an orange real estate developer, and a 21-3 halftime score is not a blowout. I should have kept my ass at that bar. I missed it! I endured Lady Gaga only to miss the good half of the best Superbowl in the history of ever.
Lesson learned. Nothing in 2017 is over until it’s over.