Here Thar Be Monsters!

From the other side of the argument to the other side of the planet, read in over 149 countries and 17 languages. We bring you news and opinion with an IndoTex® flavor. Be sure to check out Radio Far Side. Send thoughts and comments to luap.jkt at gmail, and tell all your friends. Sampai jumpa, y'all.

27.9.17

Are You Ready For Some FU-ball?

NFL players genuflecting in submission; Brad Mills/USA Today
Sports, via Reuters
The idea of compulsory worship of the State and its symbols makes me puke.  I haven't stood for the US national anthem in decades - probably since high school - and especially at sporting events.

Don't get me wrong, I happily stand and salute any time someone waves the Bonnie Burnet Blue and plays Texas Our Texas, but that hasn't happened at any public event I've attended since the early 2000s, and the reason I do so is because my country has been a captive nation of war since 1865.  But that's another story.

What I find particularly amusing about the current debate-du-jour in the good ol' US of A is that the people protesting the national anthem by going down on one knee is such a screwed up situation that I can't help but laugh my fool head off.

Before I get to the real meat of the matter, and being a product of Roman Catholic indoctrination, seeing people go down on one knee is what I call genuflecting, and it is a sign of submission to higher authority.  Thus, these over-stuffed boneheads are, in effect, offering greater submission to the State than simply standing and covering one's heart.

Har-har-har!  What a bunch of buffoons!

What is most amusing, however, is that all these meat-balloons that are submitting to the State in supplicated "protest" are biting their own asses.

They play a game that does not exist anywhere outside the United States.  They work for a monopoly that has special dispensation from that State to be exempt from the laws of that State that prohibit monopolies.  Most of the players would be manual laborers were it not for the incredible luck they had in landing such over-paid jobs that made them millionaires and national "heroes."  Their places of work are stadia that were paid for by municipal bonds and legal tax cheats granted by folks who have been sold a bill of goods in the interest of "tourism" and "public relations."  The owners of these bloated boneheads (yes, it is a kind of slave market) are billionaires who, for the most part, use the teams as tax write-offs against their massive incomes.

Furthermore, these steroid-puffed slabs of beef receive additional income through product endorsements that are marketed to duped citizens of those United States, and incentive payments from networks whose major source of income (given that their other shows are increasingly unwatched) to draw bleary eyeballs to the weekly spectacles that few outside the United States watch (soccer, a.k.a. football, rules the rest of the world).

Frankly, given that these people wouldn't have the ridiculous incomes and unreal jobs if it weren't for the United States, they should be bowing and scraping the turf on their obscenely wasteful stadia in submissive gratitude for what they have.  They certainly know nothing of the trials and tribulations of the inner-city poor folk they claim to be in solidarity with, nor would any of them bother to go into those neighborhoods.  They are upscale now, and have been since high school.

The gentle reader may ask what makes me any kind of expert on American FU-ballers.

Well, back in the day, when I was a fresh graduate from university, which I paid for out of my own pocket with no sports scholarships, I lowered myself to work sports for one of the Big Four affiliates in Houston.  Not only did I spend untold hours toting heavy gear up and down the sidelines of pro-sports events, I spent vastly more hours in the dark editing "news" stories for the local and national sports broadcasts, working for a boos that hated white men (this was the late 80s and early 90s, mind you).

I shot hours of interviews with these mental midgets with a ratio of 100-to-1 of footage recorded to usable sound bits (not even enough for full bites).  I did focus pieces on these meat-lockers in their palatial estates, where they regularly got into trouble beating wives and girlfriends, doing copious drugs, driving intoxicated, and living like Roman gladiators with the blessing of Caesar.  In fact, I can't count how many stories were quietly pushed aside to keep public images polished to a high sheen.

Yes, these over-grown and sickly-coddled children should not only be genuflecting to the flag and anthem that represents the only nation on Earth where they could find meaningful work, they should be lying prostrate in worship.

The owners too.

And where they have all screwed the pooch - though it is hard to sort this one thing out of the incredible list of options - is that they have fed into the one issue that Donald Trump can turn into a fortune.

Trump is a marketing guy - dare I say genius.  That's how he got to where he is now.  He is adept at manipulating symbols to dress up pigs' snouts for the ball and reaping a mighty profit from it.

These Bumbledicks (Marxist-Socialist Progressives) - owners, players and media alike - have just handed Trump one of the meatiest scenarios they possibly could, and we note that Trump has dutifully taken the opportunity and like an NFL quarterback doing the sneak, is running with all his might for the end-zone.

What completes the delicious irony is that no one, and I mean NO ONE (except us Far Siders) will dare to attack Trump's glaring Achilles' Heel on this issue, and that is the sheer number of dual citizens among his appointees, staff and advisers, since those dual citizens are of the nation of Israel.

What an incredible farce!

No comments:

Post a Comment

Feel free to leave your own view of The Far Side.