After just getting home from a friend's Superbowl party no more than five minutes ago, the first thing I did was Google search "bruce halftime crotch".
The amount of hits was remarkable. The fact that it's on YouTube already makes me happy, because that means we can all a) unite over how hysterical it is; b) unite over how awesome Bruce is; and c) all know what I'm talking about when I mention how I particularly enjoy expressions like "someone just got a crotchful of Boss".
But that was just the reason I started to watch the 'bowl--not the reason I stayed.
I'm not a "FOOTBALL!" kinda guy, but the fact that I was legitimately engrossed and entertained by what I understand was a particularly intense Superbowl means that I can appreciate sports as an entertainment medium (if we can call it a medium) as much as I can enjoy, say, Crank.
Though on a scale from one-to-Crank, I'd say this is only about a 5.
The point is that I actually enjoyed watching beefy men tackle each other man than I expected to (to preempt the gay jokes: this includes all that GHEY PR0N I WATCH LOOOOOL), though I hesitate to accept that it was because of the sport itself. In fact, I refuse to believe that. I could never watch the Superbowl on my own. It was fun because Leigh was a Steeler's fan, an apparently hereditary trait from his grandfather before him; it was fun because Dan was explaining to Ginny all the rules of the game and we talked about how silly they all seemed.
Which made me wonder if I could ever watch Crank alone. I like to think that I could, but if given the opportunity, I might turn it off out of boredom.
It's like a party where you're not just the only one drinking, but the only one even there. I don't think mindless fun can exist on its own--that it is a fundamental part of a friendship (or relationship, for that matter).
I acknowledge that I'd offend some (read: Bernice) by calling football, or sports as such, "mindless fun". Obviously there's thought gone into it--the plays are strategic, and the Superbowl was proof of that.
I guess I want to distinguish between a critical analysis and mindless watching. I concede that you can watch anything mindlessly or critically, so I'll avoid any arguments by clarifying that I, specifically, watch sports and Crank mindlessly.
Which narrows the question down to a question of mindlessness. If it can't exist when one is alone, then is it something we engage in with others, or is it something fundamental to any sort of relationship?
Can you be mindless alone? Maybe that's just masturbation.
Kind of like this post. Apologies for the verbal masturbation. I honestly just wanted to post The Boss crotch-sliding the cameraman at first. It was a fucking killer halftime show.
Rah-rah Pittsburgh, go Steelers go, and so on, and so forth.
Posts
OKC's Sam Presti is an overrated draft savant
2 months ago
3 comments:
i think what's interesting about mindlessness, especially pertaining to both sports and crank, is that it, in neither case, is necessary.
both of them allow for several levels of analysis, depending on how hard you try, and yes, whether or not you are alone (personal bias aside, i think a deeper level of analysis is easier and makes more sense with sports. it is, after all, how i plan to spend, you know, the rest of my life).
Funnyman, when we watch crank, are we watching a cocaine addict fucking his girlfriend in public, or are we sharing the desperation of a sad, hardened (cough) man who knows his end is nigh sharing what may be his last moments of intimacy and passion with the woman he loves?
It's all a matter of perspective.
we can watch a white jesus freak throw some rubber at black dudes, or we can watch the renaissance of a former grocery stock-boy who valiantly led the yadda yadda yadda, just like we can watch james bond defend democratic and honorable ideals during the cold war while cracking jokes about his boner to every pair of boobs he sees.
("I'm an early riser", "I've been known to keep my tip up" "You've caught me with more than my hands up", "one rises to meet a challenge", the list is endless)
Actually, entertainment is actually all about meaning, or lack thereof. At least, enjoyment is.
Sample Dialogue:
Bernice: Wow, that bob dylan movie blew.
Funnyman: yeah, everything had so little meaning. it was just the same scene over and over again.
Bernice: Yeah, and sometimes they tried to make it arty and shit, but it didnt work. feh.
Funnyman: made me sick.
Our shared decision that the film didn't satisfy our mindlessness (or mindfulness) had to do with the fact that we were together, but we both felt that it wasn't sophisticated or mindless enough. The film was bad, and with all due respect to my viewing partner, i didn't need his "i only like iced tea" attitude to tell me that.
heh, heh.
whether you watch it alone or in a room with fifty people in helmets and overalls, chimpanzee on a segway is freaking hilarious. granted, its 30 seconds long, so maybe sustained solo mindlessness is impossible, at least without an orgasm or video game or something.
Perhaps then it's about expectation. One doesn't go to see crank hoping to see an enriching discussion of Max Weber amongst literati over cappuccinos, so the lack of it becomes legit, even if you are alone. Sports can be like that too, but many people also watch it for their stockboys and things, and i think that's cool. at least, i like to think that more do because of crank.
one however, does go see a film like "manhattan" because they expect such a conversation. once someone gets over the "what the fuck, she's seventeen?", it becomes easier for the film to take you wherever it, or maybe you, will go.
Maybe then, mindlessness and analysis are merely a ride, and the point is to make the decision 5, 10, 15, 20, however many minutes into whatever you re doing. in that sense, being alone or with people will just sway the decision one way or another.
I think the happy medium is somewhere between mindlessness and seriousness. its important to have both, and to figure how to combine them, just like one should be neither alone nor surrounded all the time.
i mean, you can masturbate out of love, right?
(speaking of GHEY, crank ALSO has alot of beefy men tackling each other, and a forced joke about jason statham's boner)
oh, and for the record, there are some things that just make that fucking decision for you.
we all felt bruce's balls in our face. there was no choice in that.
p.s. alternate title for this post:
Bruce Teabags America; America Gargles.
I hate Max Weber so fucking much.
Post a Comment