Football Is A Drug, Super Bowl XLVII Edition

A few months ago, the 2012 NFL season began and I and millions of others magically regained the ability to ignore the realities of the brutal, multi-billion dollar game we love. It's a talent we've been forced to utilize every fall, because for many of us, we can't help it. Speaking for myself: I can guess at the potential consequences every vicious hit carries and I keep on watching, anyway. I mean, c'mon, it's exciting. And the hits play a large roll in that excitement. I watch a highlight reel like this and my human brain knows this isn't right, but because my adrenaline is pumping, it's my lizard brain that's in control.

It's a drug and we're addicted. It's not like we're stupid (well... most of us aren't); even those of us without medical training can look at the punishment being sustained and know on some level that this isn't healthy. Players know the risks when they sign up, we tell ourselves (maybe). But whether or not that makes it okay to watch is another question.

I recommend perusing Ta-Nehisi Coates' rundown of the NFL's recent history of concussion evasion. You should also check out Bob Costas on The Daily Show earlier this week. Or you can trust your own eyes and watch the play from this year's AFC Championship game that Costas discusses with Jon Stewart, in which Ravens safety Bernard Pollard clobbers Patriots running back Stevan Ridley. Watching live, I was expecting to see Ridley still prone on the field, surrounded by team trainers and doctors, as soon as the replays ended. By the grace of football's traditionally generous gods, Ridley walked off under his own power almost immediately. It says something--I'm not sure what--that Pollard has since acknowledged the potential consequences for the NFL's style of play.

Some will argue that anyone cheering for Baltimore this Sunday (as I am) is rooting for a murderer. Or at least a team that is led, physically and emotionally, by a probable accessory to murder. And there's some validity to that, just as there's some validity to the idea that cheering on any football team might lead one to incidentally root for a criminal of one class or another (somewhat greater odds for Cowboys fans). That's a gruesomeness that we as fans have learned to live with ignore. What happens off the field stays off the field, we rationalize. But on the field, we're watching men kill each other. Slowly but inexorably. We sit, not exactly passively, and watch these athletes devastating each others' mortal, if gargantuan, bodies and turning each others' brains into scrambled eggs in ways we're only just beginning to grasp. I'm not much for hashing out moral comparisons, but certainly we can't all claim to be clean.

So my prediction for Sunday is: injuries. Lots of them. All of the injuries will happen and no one will be spared.

And it'll be exciting as hell.

Baltimore over San Francisco, 31-23.

Yes, It's Election Rigging

You might've heard about the Virginia Republicans' recent gambit to help ensure that their political ambitions are never again thwarted by the petty preferences of mere voters. In sum: they eliminated a Democratic State Senate seat (at least one) through gerrymandering. They squeezed this through on Monday--which was effectively a double holiday in the Washington Metro area--while one Democratic State Senator was attending the Inauguration and hadn't been aware of the vote taking place.

This seems no big deal at first; just mildly dickish in the way those familiar with Virginia have come to expect from the Commonwealth. But simultaneously, there are measures afoot in Virginia and other states that would reapportion states' electoral votes more or less proportionally. Sounds okay to start, right? Except that those votes would be allocated along congressional district lines. You know, the maddeningly gerrymandered district lines that delivered another majority for John Boehner despite House Republican candidates falling a million votes shy of Democratic candidates in the last election. So that even with a clear popular majority in a given state, a presidential candidate might come out with fewer electoral votes because his/her support didn't come from the right parts of the state. But even with sensible district lines (ha!), the plan would essentially tie presidential elections to House elections, because we don't give a shit about checks and balances anymore. And along current lines, would give rural districts even more disproportionate influence than they currently possess. Not to mention the incredible import it would grant once every ten year post-census elections and the unignorable incentive it would give parties to turn congressional districts into twisted, electoral monstrosities (something Democrats can do, too, by the way).

This is also happening in Michigan. And Wisconsin. And Pennsylvania. Florida is discussing it, as well, but there of all places, GOP leadership is actually feeling queasy about the idea; Florida, on this issue, is less slimy than Virginia. I should point out here that some right wingers are highlighting the potential pitfalls of such a plan, which is heartening (cynical though the reasoning may be), but does nothing to change the fact that significant legislative time and energy has been spent on this issue.

The Republican Party is, we are told (by them), the party of personal responsibility and hard work. And here they are not taking responsibility for their recent failures; not doing the hard work of making themselves relevant for a changing electorate. They instead game the system to suit the aging, withering base that they cannot or will not pull themselves from. As this simple, country lawyer has said before, they care more about winning than governing. And when you're operating under that philosophy, even the spirit of democracy can be thrown under the bus.

But don't take my word for it. Listen to Larry Sabato, who points out that this "truly rotten" idea would,

"permit a GOP nominee to capture the White House even while losing the popular vote by many millions. This is not a relatively small Electoral College “misfire” on the order of 1888 or 2000. Instead, it is a corrupt and cynical maneuver to frustrate popular will and put a heavy thumb — the whole hand, in fact — on the scale for future Republican candidates. We do not play presidential politics with a golf handicap awarded to the weaker side."

Or Ta-Nehisi Coates, who connects Virginia's scheme to the race-driven disenfranchisement efforts of the last century and a half and calls it "a bad sign for American democracy." Or Jamelle Bouie, calling the movement "a full-scale assault on the principle of 'one person, one vote.'" Hyperbole? Maybe. But it's hard enough getting people's attention on electoral reform, let alone attacks on the concept. This issue doesn't hit as close to home as an ongoing economic recovery. It isn't as visceral as the gun control debate. It isn't as sexy as Manti Te'o's dead, fake girlfriend (yes, that can be read as me finding fake dead girls to be sexy, but who are you to judge me?). It is, however, relevant.

Because when the basic tenets of democratic government can be ignored and politicians can chose their constituents--rather than the other way 'round--none of our other partisan bickerings will matter a whit.

Reading List for the Second Term

Glenn Beck is a bubbling pustule of a hack. Here are some books to prep you for the next four years. 

A Tale of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
I don't anticipate a resurgence of the Occupy movement. Even if they do return in any significant way, they were more a hapless might-have-been than the boiling cauldron of class warfare some insisted they were. And with no leader, there wasn't even a Madame Defarge to speak of. The Tea Party, on the other hand, remains because we can't have nice things. The hard right isn't softening, if their fiscal cliff (now debt ceiling) fanaticism and Sandy Hook truther schemes demonstrate anything. And while the Tea Party is not the bottom-up revolt that was the French Revolution (quite the reverse, amazingly), there remains more than a hint of misdirected anger and not so veiled threats of violence that would've given Dickens more than enough material to work with. Despite--or because of--their unpopularity, they still see themselves as righteous victims, a siege mentality that's not quite ready to break, so we will hear from them again over this next term. And they have a few ready and willing Madames Defarge to chose from.

This Mighty Scourge: Perspectives on the Civil War - James M. McPherson
I don't want to look like I'm shitting on the spirit of 1776, because that was cool and important. But America didn't become the country we know today until we had to start killing each other instead of Brits and Native Americans. See, the Civil War never actually ended despite the awkward fact that it officially ended 148 years ago this Spring. McPherson's essays highlight not only how academia has viewed the war in the century and a half since its ostensible close, but how the nation's history and culture have been shaped by it. Particularly of note are chapters one (covering the historical revisionism and whitewashing that buttresses neo-Confederate mythology), eight (documenting the fights in Southern schools to ensure that Yankee intransigence Southern honor was taught properly, prefiguring the textbook battles of today), and sixteen (on Lincoln's dramatic use of "war powers" to expand executive control in times of emergency, something no president has done since).

Nixonland - Rick Perlstein
What the Civil War began, Nixon's Southern Strategy carved into stone. It was a cynical gambit that not only exploited the cultural divisions of the sixties, but deepened them for maximum political impact. It galvanized racial politics, launched the culture wars, and left a large chunk of the country permanently tied to the Republican Party (to the detriment of both). As Perlstein demonstrates, Nixon laid the template for everything that came after, from the self-perpetuating polarization to the modern conservative movement that is as much a profit-generating scheme as it is a political ideology. And whatever Nixon's successors wish to do to bring Americans back together, they keep finding Nixon still very much alive, gumming up the works.

I, Lucifer - Glen Duncan
This one actually has nothing to do with American politics. It's just a damn good book.

Nos Populus, however, does have something to do with American politics and is also available. You know, if you like reading your own political themes into explicitly political novels.

Miller 64

When I was a kid, a product bearing the suffix "64" was considered to be something of value and its accessories could be widely celebrated years after the 64-ness had become outdated. Three Nintendo consoles later, the world is no longer so simple and predictable (thanks a lot, Obama).

The fact of the existence of Miller 64 should be onerous enough for any society. A low-calorie, low-quality beer, whose claims to healthfulness are given lie with minimal effort. To have this thing thrust upon us, promising beer with none* of the health drawbacks usually associated with beer is so absurd as to be grotesque. You'd almost think we've become a callow civilization, wanting all the good things in the world and accepting none of the negative consequences. Unless you consider a tasteless, essence-less facsimile of beer trickling down your throat to be a negative consequence. Which I do. 

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*None aside from the very small amount of alcohol, which, even at 2.8% ABV, is still technically a low grade poison. So why bother trying to make the product healthy in the first place, one wonders. But one is thinking too hard about this already.
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The marketing company with a brewery attached that is MillerCoors (not quite so as prolific as Sterling Cooper Anheuser Busch, but irritating in its own "us too" kind of way) has had this ad out for almost a year now. You've probably seen it if you've fallen asleep watching ESPN and woken up hours later, acutely aware that you've wasted your Saturday, a sting that's punctuated by having this self-satisfied bastardization of pub songs and sea shanties blared in your direction.

Let's take it from the top, shall we?

We run a mile before breakfast
If you're looking to lose weight, you should try running that mile immediately after breakfast. A big breakfast.

Sure, I had a salad for lunch
Oh, you poor, downtrodden thing, being able to afford a salad for lunch.

But a Miller 64 at dinner
Did your dinner have any say in this pairing? Or was it a plaintive, "No, that's fine. I'm just a baked chicken breast. Didn't even get a decent marinade because you're trying to keep fit. Miller 64 will do. You won't even know you're ingesting either of us, we're so tasteless. It's actually kind of perfect, in a way."

Oh yes, cause I've worked off my paunch
I'm going to pause here while one of the men in the ad boxes with a cute female partner (in case we hadn't already internalized the hardships they endure). Reasonably fit, basically attractive young men are talking at us about the healthfulness that can be had with the Miller 64 lifestyle. And, hey, I'm down for fitness. I think most of us could use more of it in our every day lives. But what state can a person be in where Miller 64 becomes a rational beverage? Someone looking to lose serious weight might consider doing without beer entirely. Or, if they must drink, they could opt for another adult beverage; most wines and liquors are in the 60-70-calorie range (I'll link you here again). It's all empty calories, however delicious (a word that obviously precludes the likes of Miller 64). The truly fitness-oriented are generally aware of this and are less inclined to consume alcohol for the sake of consumption. If one must imbibe Miller 64, I'm more likely to assume "misinformed alcoholic" than "health nut."

The other type of conscious dieter that might consider sipping a Miller 64 is an irreparably brain damaged person individual who's just looking to maintain his weight or maybe drop a couple of vanity pounds, in which case the health rules remain the same, if a bit relaxed. And, looking at the ad, all of these guys fall into this latter category. They're not even TV schlubby. They may not be Adonises (Adoni?), but seem above par for the real world.

This is what television does: it shows us pretty people. And it's not with the intent of making us feel bad, by the way. It's because we prefer aesthetically-pleasing things: people, landscapes, naked people, etc. But the natural consequence on our end is to feel worse about the way we look because everyone looks better than us. So here I see men who are likely in better shape than I am and I wonder, what sort of sacrifice did it require along with exercise and, gasp, salads for lunch?

"Miller 64," they sing back at me. "That's my option," I sigh, my face dropping noticeably. "Perpetual schlubbiness or stale piss water." It doesn't take me long to start asking: do I really enjoying being alive that much?

Cause we live a life of balance
That's not what that word means.

And no one can say that we're wrong
They saw this coming. The androids who wrote this took a hard look at the deed they were committing and they got an unfamiliar tingle of self-awareness. But before they could examine this new, unpleasant feeling, they looked down the road and saw sensible critique barreling in their direction at an alarming speed. And rather than reconsider their lives' choices and put an end to whatever douchebaggery they were involved in, they offered a childish "haters gonna hate," hoping to stymy any attempt of ours to tell them, "yes, you're wrong," as though someone might have room to say such a thing. But that couldn't be.

So here's to good Miller who cut out the filler...
Yeah, "filler." All that flavor and taste. Just gets in the way, amirite?  

...and made a beer worthy of song. 
At long last, man has found occasion to communicate about alcohol in verse. It feels like cheating to send you to a list of country songs about drinking, but I'm gonna do it, anyway.

To Miller 64
No.

To Miller 64
No.

To love, sweat, and beers...
How do you like that, they managed to fit the recipe into the song.

...and well-deserved cheers.
Cheers for what, exactly? For the kind of ill-considered life decisions that lead a person to spend money on an almost non-existent beverage in the hopes of being able to enjoy themselves guilt-free? Or for the courage it takes to say to another human being, likely acting in a professional capacity, "yeah, I'll have one of those." Or perhaps we're using collective well-wishes and good cheer to distract us from the sickly spittle we're about to pour into our faces.

Or maybe the cheers are for the ad execs who were forced to sit in a room, drinking their sample 64's until enough self-respect had been drained from them that this song seemed like a decent idea. Yeah, fine. Let's toast to them, the poor sods. And their widows and orphans, too; the ones who've had their loved ones ripped from them by something as coldly indifferent as alcohol poisoning and self-inflicted gunshot wounds to the chest.

If that last bit seems harsh, consider the psychological ramifications of thinking on the existential nature of Miller 64 for too long: "A beer couldn't possibly be 64 calories. And yet it tastes like 64 calories. Which means it doesn't taste like beer. So, what is it? What am I? Is it possible that I'm only a third as substantive a person as I pretend to be? Do I, too, have so flaccid a bearing that one could cast reasonable doubt on the reality of my existence?"

There's some kind of rule, or at least should be, that the more you have to tell people what a good time something was/is/will be, the more likely that is to be a lie. If the hype goes on long enough or becomes loud enough, you can fairly expect the thing in question to be unrepentantly awful. Like when Donald Trump talks about himself.

This, of course, is the macros' bread and butter. They cornered the beer market decades ago (to the tune of about 80%) by flogging a bland product designed to appeal to as many people as possible after the end of Prohibition. Since then, it's been a battle between the macros for as much of the revenue as can be had. This usually takes the form of insulting gimmicks, like Coors' blue mountains, intended to help the drinker tell when an aluminum can has gone cold. They're all slinging the same swill, so the only way to get separation is with a proxy mascot war or the occasional half-hearted experiment (Miller's taunting 64 calories have actually been undercut by Budweiser). To wit: they look at a nation desperate for relief from an obesity epidemic and its related health problems and they decide to help out by offering us... this.

To Miller 64!
FUCK. YOU.

The Following

HBO. AMC. FX.

These are networks that I could see doing something worthwhile with the premise of The Following. They might even be able to make Kevin Bacon interesting. I don't trust Fox to do either of those things.

It might be the not-so-recent shift of good drama to cable. Or the fact that those dramas have been replaced with interchangeable forensic procedural and the more recent surveillance genre, which is anything but subtle in its derision of the remaining shreds of the concept of privacy (if you want an example of the basics vs. cable, compare CBS' Person of Interest with Showtime's Homeland). Or the fact that the basics can't handle anything outside of a handful of single camera sitcoms and animated shows; and even some of those have opted/fled for the freer, more forgiving lands of cable/content providers (hint hint, Community). Or the lazy reality show ideas that now include celebrities... high-diving? Say what you will about Bravo and TLC's lineups, at least there's admirable talent on Top Chef and a surreal, David Lynch-esque psychology to the Real Housewives and Honey Boo-Boo fare. The networks, by comparison, are dull and outmoded.

Some of my friends tell me The Following looks promising. With a more creative outlet behind it, I could agree with that sentiment. But all I see is a Trojan Horse forensic drama steeped in every thriller cliche from the disgraced FBI agent to the manipulative and creepily calm serial killer. Oh, and Kevin Bacon is there, too. Did you see that Kevin Bacon is doing TV now? Yes, that Kevin Bacon: the guy you've never really liked in anything, but was never offensive, either, assuming you didn't think about his films too much (John Lithgow's son died, you shallow, narcissistic asshole). That adds intrigue to a thing you've seen a thousand times since Twin Peaks made it kind of cool, right?

We're living in a golden age of quality television (it can be easy to miss, but see here). We should all be happy for that. And it's possible that the networks have finally caught on, or will in the future. I haven't seen The Following yet. Having written this, I'll probably now have to (dammit, Fox). My sense is that, at best, it'll be the networks' launching pad into the golden age. In which case, great. At bottom--and most likely--it'll offer a decent case study of why the networks aren't getting there. In which case, at least we'll know.