Of course I couldn’t bring myself to watch this national orgy of violence writ large that features gazillionaire “owners” and their minions “entertaining” at least 1 out of 3 Americans and countless others worldwide. But I did manage to watch Renee Fleming’s over the top performance of the national anthem, which featured a military parade and a gargantuan national flag stretched out on the ground with fireworks above.
And you know what? It’s a terrible thing, but my body, my sensuous body, thrilled to the sounds of that stirring (military, nationalistic, patriotic) anthem. “I,” that is, the part of me that is not my body and that attempts to guide this body through all the minefields that life in Amerika presents, noticed the body’s “thrill,” and abhored it, knowing it is based on lifelong conditioning as an “American.” Yuck.
BTW: I find it exceedingly odd that Phillip Seymour Hoffman was found dead on this same Super Bowl Sunday. And wonder indeed, if it was an overdose suicide or something more sinister. Some kind of cabalistic ritual sacrifice to accompany this supreme annual gladiator sport? Check beforeitsnews, for more.
Here’s Renee Fleming. Below that, a sociological view of football.
