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All Screaming Id, No Brains, No Honor

IMG Auteur
Publié le 06 février 2012
894 mots - Temps de lecture : 2 - 3 minutes
( 14 votes, 4,1/5 ) , 4 commentaires
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Rubrique : Editoriaux





A Martian psychoanalyst observing the US Superbowl on TV would be shocked by the vicious animal spirits emanating from that spectacle, starting with the triumphal trumpet blasts borrowed straight from the old 1950s Hollywood epic movies echoing the prideful mis-steps of ancient Rome, along with the by-now clichéd CGI trick in the opening credits of gleaming metallic heraldic insignia spun into a military cordon of stars so as to protect the tender collective ego of this anxious nation. America wears its zeitgeist plastered right on its sweaty forehead.

Everybody knows that the commercial messages between the play-action amount to a national Rorschach test, and this year's collection made us look more psychopathic than ever - starting with the advertisement for the Chevy Silverado: Fade in on a devastated nameless American city, the buildings smashed, the streets littered with debris, a gray ash coating over everything, and no living creatures in evidence.... A newspaper headline proclaims "2012 Mayan Apocalypse...." How reassuring! Wait! Something stirs behind a heap of rubble... it cracks open... and out drives a plucky American male lumpen "worker" dude behind the wheel of a gleaming giant pickup truck. He is soon joined by other men and their trucks, all of them blithely unfazed by the end-of-the-world.

A curious scenario. What's the take away? I wondered, of course, where these plucky fellows would look for their next fill-up in the devastated landscape. Surely the service stations would miss the next scheduled fuel truck delivery. Are American men not expected to think beyond the immediate moment they are in? Are they on an intellectual level with lemurs and Holstein steers?

The Superbowl pageant is a window into the condition of American manhood, and the view is pretty pathetic. It's a picture of men who feel so weak, insecure, and fearful that they have to compensate with fantasies of limitless destructive power. Ads for several new movies and (I think) video games followed the Silverado apocalypse romp. There were unifying themes throughout. All depicted the problems of life as 1) coming from outside our own society (or world); 2) in the form of aliens who wield mystifying technological destructive power; and 3) leaving a few human remnants on a smoldering landscape after a cosmic showdown.

These onslaughts from elsewhere in the universe always end with superior American guile and the latest technology defeating the purblind invaders. The aliens are vanquished by Apple computers, Air Force stunt pilots, and a little extra help from God Almighty, who is surely on our side. From these realms of engineered grandiosity, we slip in and out of the grinding ground game in Lucas Oil stadium in Indianapolis, another pseudo-military operation loaded with acronyms and jargon intended to confer an illusion of control and competence.

The reality out there in "flyover" land is an audience of diabetic fat men in clownish loungewear slouched on sofas in foreclosed houses enjoying stupendous portions of cheesy and lard-laden foodstuffs between cigarettes and beers. They have a lot to worry about and they have no idea how they might overcome their financial, familial, and medical problems. The real onslaughts besetting the nation in realms such as banking fraud, money in politics, peak oil, climate uncertainty, and economic contraction are at once too complex for the diabetic fat men to comprehend, and grossly misreported in the public arena, were Cable TV and newspapers work the levers of propaganda for one client or another.

Then there was the grotesque half-time extravaganza featuring Madonna, which was a weird parallel commentary on the state of American womanhood. Pretending to be ageless and indomitable, the old trooper performed a variety of standing crotch-locks on her Praetorian guard of hoofers and then stumbled more than once on the ridiculous bleacher stage-set that looked as if was designed to trip the performers up. Message to American women: be sluts as long as you possibly can because there is nothing else for you in this culture. I couldn't help thinking that American chanteuses of yesteryear - say, Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, Carole King - sang about adult problems and emotions with a greater thematic range, and would never have subjected themselves to such a display of pitiful narcissism. (Did anyone notice that Madonna's corps de ballet all wore her monogram on their loincloths?) America needs a prayer, all right, but I don't think they'll find it by calling Madonna's name.

Meanwhile, in whatever remains of the Real World, we have a couple of things to be concerned about this week. One is the ultimatum tendered to Greece by the Lords of Euroland to make a deal or die-dog-die. Last time I checked, they had until 11 a.m. today Berlin time to reply... and nothing happened.

The other matter is the pending possible robo-signing settlement with the TBTF banks, which is designed to let them off the hook for any and all future lawsuits in this matter if they pay a penny-ante fine. This latest ghastly trespass of the rule-of-law is a joint project of the Obama White House and 50 states attorneys general in an epic act of perfidy. You can read about it at Yves Smith's excellent Naked Capitalism blog.

Your country is being stolen from you. I hope you are getting ready to re-occupy it with your bodies and minds. Don't plan on giant magical robots flying to your rescue.



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If you are making decisions to trade gold or silver on Ebay based on Una-kunstler's rant, I hope you go broke, putz.

Ted's little protege.

7 year old crotches don't make for metal trading; why is this even on the air?

Ebay, get real and cut this crap.

Evaluer :   1  5Note :   -4
The last time I submitted a comment in 24HGold, it was a critical opposing response to an opinion by Mr. Kunstler. Today, I'm here to agree with Kunstler's opinion about the Super Bowl bells & whistles surrounding the game itself. I get it, that he says the game is 'vicious'. For anyone that has not played the game, or any type of physical contacting sport might have that opinion. No doubt he was a member of the High School Glee Club and/or Yearbook Club, while others of us played sports where bones are broken and sometimes lives lost playing the game. That's OK … it’s the world we live in.
I have to wholeheartedly agree that the truck commercial is a reflection of our social and cultural depravity. We now make commercials themed around a global apocalypse? How twisted is that, that an advertising agency actually developed that idea , and got paid big bucks for it. And as for madonna's performance, the sad thing is that there were millions of guys around the world enjoying it. It was a pole dance ... without the pole. So how many 7 & 8 year old daughters were sitting next to their dad's on the couch watching madonna air out her crotch thinking that's how you're supposed to dance for an audience? Way to go dad, for ignoring your wife and daughter to watch madonna for any surprises.
Razzle Dazzle, Glitz and Glimmer ... yep ... the USA is being sold down the river, to a culture of low-life's, gamer’s and schemer’s who have no values ... and only live for the next ball game to get drunk' who don't give a crap about who's being elected to government or for their neighbor next door. And then they belly ache about how screwed-up things are. We are being taught by the schools, media, and elites over the last 60 years a new moral relativism ... and we're all to blame for either teaching and condoning it ... or allowing it to take place by not objecting to it.
Good opinion Mr. Kunstler ...

Everyone - don’t be fooled, we will be judged for an accounting of our lives.
God Help Us for the wide and diverse road we've chosen to take!
Evaluer :   3  1Note :   2
Why would anybody think that a Martian Psychoanalyst would be shocked by the so called vicious animal spirits displayed at Superbowl?

Now I admit that as a spectacle it is a rather drawn out, stop/start and a somewhat boring event compared to say...Aussie Rules Football, but you can hardly call it vicious.

Hey man...some people like it. Like we are all different dude.

What's your solution?
It seems like you never offer one.
Evaluer :   2  3Note :   -1
So Kunstler hates the Superbowl, "..the vicious animal spirits emanating from that spectacle.."

Of course he fails to mention the obvious: that humans have played sports probably since Homo erectus began throwing bananas for long passes. So it's not sports that he hates (he can't be that much of a fool). No, it's man's technology, the innovative spirit, even the courageous spirit.

The beauty of a new automobile and the audactiy to proudly flaunt it is what rankles the Kunstlers of the world. He's right out of ATLAS SHRUGGED by Ayn Rand: a kind of Mouch-like mouseman resentful of anyone with a larger piece of cheese.

I liked that Chevy tongue-in-cheek end of the world commercial. Man emerging from the wreckage unfazed, with a ready to try again attitude -- just what Kunstler hates. You see, Man, according to Kunstler should dispise his creative mind and return to the natural world of chasing mammoths, gnawing on bones, and scraping hides with obisidian blades (all made by hand of course).

Why was he watching the Superbowl anyway?

Evaluer :   7  5Note :   2
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The last time I submitted a comment in 24HGold, it was a critical opposing response to an opinion by Mr. Kunstler. Today, I'm here to agree with Kunstler's opinion about the Super Bowl bells & whistles surrounding the game itself. I get it, that he s  Lire la suite
jimbaran - 07/02/2012 à 21:07 GMT
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