06E004
The Savage Breast
At last, there is definitive proof
that the flickering, screeching box in the living room, the box that has held
us mesmerized for most of our lives is, in fact, a boob tube.
In case you aren't abreast of the
situation, I should tell you that I'm referring to Super Bowl XXXVIII. I don't
speak Roman, but I believe that's the correct number.
Like all Americans, I was stunned at
the unexpected display of naked bad taste. I don't mean the action on the field
— that lived up to every expectation of bone-crunching violence, the kind of
mayhem that helps us bond in our annual ritual of beer and chips and f'ball and
beer and chips and beer.
By now you know what I'm talking
about. You probably sense that I'm too embarrassed to go into any detail about
this — you would be correct, but the greater social good demands a full
explication. OK, here we go ...
Viewers voted on the best Super Bowl
ad, and the winner was — The Dog Biting The Guy In The Crotch. I repeat — The
Dog Biting The Guy. How could that possibly be better than the ads for drugs
that produce an instant erection in men ("... erections longer than four
hours are rare, and require medical treatment.") Or the hilarious Beer Ad
featuring a flatulent horse? Not mere flatulence, but world class flatulence,
maybe Olympic gold medal flatulence. We may find out at the next Olympic Games,
if they're on CBS.
The one bright spot in this voting
controversy is the fact that CBS wisely chose not to air the Move On ad showing
children working at menial jobs to pay off our bloated federal deficit. They
said it was "controversial." Unlike the other ads we saw. I see their
point — as far as I could tell, there isn't a single explosion, not even a car
chase. It's so quiet you wouldn't even know the TV was on. Talk about a Super
Bowl Party killer. Imagine a roomful of stunned viewers trying to make sense of
it. "Duuuude, what kind of beer was that?!"
I suppose we could complain to CBS,
start a letter writing campaign.
Us: Dear CBS — Why do you think
crotch-biting is better than horse-flatulence? Yrs Truly, dedicated viewer.
CBS: Huh?
So you can see that it would do no
good to complain. In frustration, I turned to my daily comfort — Right Wing Radio!
No, not ALL of right wing radio, just
my 15 or 20 favorite right wing radio hosts. Here's what they had to say:
"Blah blah, horrible display ..."
"Blah blah, terrible breast
..."
I had no idea what they were talking
about. I must have blinked at the wrong
time.
Eventually, I heard the word "wardrobe,"
and the word "malfunction," and believe me, two words you never want
to hear together are "wardrobe malfunction." The term makes
"erectile dysfunction" wither by comparison. I imagine teams of
wardrobe engineers were scrambling to contain the malfunction before it became
a wardrobe meltdown.
There is probably a lesson for us all in this terrible crotch-biting beer-guzzling erection-maximizing horse-flatulence new world we apparently live in. If you figure it out, somebody, anybody, please tell me.