I must preface my remarks with a confession:
I didn’t watch the Superbowl on Sunday. I missed out on the only shared cultural moment left in our society because I WAS READING A BOOK. That’s my frumpy form of protest, my titillating flirt with an obscure, archaic underground movement known as ‘Using Your Brain’. Sorry.
But alas, like everything else in this ubiquitous nightmare loosely called “civilization”, it was IMPOSSIBLE to miss the “Super” experience. It began weeks ago and steamrolled toward Sunday like a fat offensive lineman on crack & steroids. (And it was about as rational.)
And like crack, steroids, and the rich obese, IT WAS EVERYWHERE IN AMERICA. You could avert your eyes and still hear, “Who do you think will win the game?” You could gouge out your ears with knitting needles and still see beer and potato chip ads spelled out in the clouds overhead.
And Sunday night, JUST when you thought it was over, IT WASN’T OVER. No, now comes the analysis of the commercials. Did Bud score a touchdown? Did Levitra get it up? Why is that has-been talkin’ about his limp dick with glowing pride?
Yes, thanks to garrulous morons, talkative strangers, conversation-starved relatives, and EVERY MEDIA OUTLET known to humankind, I heard about the superbowl, the commercials, and…
THE TIT. And unless you’ve been in hiding with Dick Cheney, you know about the tit too.
Janet Jackson, from whose family we’ve come to expect only the highest ethical and moral standards!) shocked the world by letting that little MONKEY-FACED BOY rip her bodice on national TV, thereby exposing a very expensive (and apparently pornographic) lump of Silicone-inflated flesh.
And millions of Americans, hypocrites that we are, were MORTIFIED! How offensive!
(Apparently, no one thought a beer commercial with a gigantic farting horse was offensive. No one thought a has-been football coach talking about his LIMP DICK’S PHARMACEUTICAL RISE TO GLORY while throwing a football through a tire (look out, Ingmar Bergman!) was offensive. Nope, that’s just marketing. Information. An informed consumer, yep, that’s all it is.)
And what did CBS, NFL, FCC, and the Bush Administration have to say about that OFFENSIVE titty?
“WE’RE GOING TO OPEN AN INVESTIGATION.”
Sadly, no one thought lying to the American public in order to start a war was offensive enough to launch an investigation.
And what does this all mean? As you know, ol’ Shark is glad to tell ya:
We’ve known for a long time that the BARBARIANS are not only AT the gate, but they’re the main demographic that drives ALL culture and entertainment in America. So what’s SURPRISING about a SuperBowl extravaganza filled with farting horses and floppy fake tits?
Nada. (Have you seen the movies coming out of Hollywood lately?)
But it is a bit of a wake-up call for those of us well beyond the age of MTV, sort of a rallying cry to anyone who wants to retrieve American society from the abyss of the Super Toilet Bowl.
HERE’S THE PROBLEM:
Everything in this country is marketed to a consumer who is a THIRTEEN-YEAR OLD MALE who makes $150,000 a year. Yeah, I know, that sounds pretty rare until you factor in Mommy and Daddy’s salaries.
And what can you say about this demographic that determines the entire course of Western Culture???
—Well, they have lots of disposable income and tons of renewable testosterone.
ie. there you have it—the reason civilization is at an end:
Our culture is designed for YOUNG VIOLENT MORONS.
Give ’em a fart joke and they reach for their wallets. Flash a bouncy boob and they go download a song. Show ’em a car crash and a shootout and they’ll go to the theater, rent the movie, buy the DVD, and collect all 700 of the action figures.
Ca-ching! The music of the barbarians.
SO WHAT’S THE SOLUTION?
Well, my first recommendation is simple:
You can refuse to buy, rent, borrow, watch, listen to, talk about, and think about ANY OF THIS SHIT.
My second recommendation is a bit more difficult and controversial, but desperate times require desperate measures.
Kill the entire MTV Generation.
(…hell, kill everyone under 45.)
Kill anyone who is remotely related to the business of ‘Marketing’.
Kill anyone who lip-syncs a has-been hit while touching their crotch.
Kill anyone who describes a ‘funny commercial’ to you against your will.
Kill anyone who is a walking billboard for some multi-national conglomerate.
Kill the next person who says, “…But the Special Effects were great!”
Yes, that’s right, it’s time to save WESTERN CIVILIZATION from the barbarians.
And although it might appear that the biggest threats to our society are the barbarians who are external, practice an extreme form of Islam, and wear funny clothes, they’re running a close second to our own kids and the people who market to them—the ones who practice an extreme form of ‘consumerism’, wear funny clothes, and are sleeping in the next room.
SO JOIN ME!
SAVE WESTERN CIVILIZATION!
THE NEW AMERICAN JIHAD!
PRAISE BE TO BRAIN CELLS!
signed in blood,