it’s time for a return to bloodsports

This morning on the train a woman was absolutely out of her mind.  Likely under the influence of some mild expanding substances she was shouting nonsensical things to the train car in general.  Since the local train police are essentially nonexistent, this is not an uncommon occurrence.  Everyone ignored her.  However, what was uncommon was as she got off the train she got into another lady’s face and started yelling at a complete stranger, essentially threatening her life for no reason.

This other lady then proceeded to let the crazy lady have it, and basically shouted her down asking her in very kind, appropriate language fit for a kindergarten what her problem was and to get away from her.  Much to my surprise, this entire interaction greatly pleased the entire train car’s passengers.  It seemed to make them happy to see this altercation, made their commute more exciting.  Other complete strangers were talking about it with each other.

Why?  Well, morning commutes are boring as shit.  Plus, this crazy lady had been shouting for 20 minutes and so folks were probably pleased to see somebody hand her her ass.  But, I have a twisted mind and so my other thoughts were that folks were just happy to see some kind of non-violent altercation as pure entertainment.  It brought people together, complete strangers.

This is straight caveman shit.  This is the ape part of our brains that loves to see a good scrum.  Think evolution has solved us of this?  Wrong.  At times it seems the entire purpose of social media is to give people an outlet to express their rage at [insert anything here].  Instead of brawling with their neighbors in the market square over [insert anything here], they just output their rage on Twitter.

Not only is this unhealthy, it’s also weak.  It’s really, really easy to threaten somebody’s life over a political issue when you’re not in the same room with them.  It’s rather a different concept if you’re face to face.  Let’s take an example of this.

1) Political Cult Acolyte 1 says to Political Cult Acolyte 2 over Twitter, “Fuck you, you’re wrong, my opinion is right.  You deserve to die.  I’ll kill you and all those like you, fucker.”  A similar threat is returned.  Nothing actually happens.

2) Political Cult Acolyte 1 says the same thing to Political Cult Acolyte 2, only face to face.  Either the police are called, a fight ensues, or somebody is actually murdered.

If you ask me, (2) is more productive than (1).  (1) allows the rage to continue, let’s people live in their own narcissistic bubble, permits people to endlessly be total assholes without consequence, and in the end solves nothing.  Whereas with (2), the issue is resolved, one way or the other, immediately.

It’s time for a return to bloodsports.  The Coliseum is still standing, just slightly upgrade that venue and let’s get back to our roots.  The mandate is anytime somebody threatens somebody on the train, or on Twitter, it’s like a glove slap challenge.  If the other human doesn’t accept, they can be branded as a coward or not serious in their beliefs regarding [insert anything here].  If they accept the challenge: Coliseum.

This can be live broadcasting like the Olympics or like any number of post-apocalyptic B movie from 1987.  They don’t necessarily have to kill each other, just get the other opponent to submit.  So I’m not necessarily advocating tridents and nets.  Let them hit each other with plastic bats for all I care.  Eventually somebody will get tired of getting hit in the head and give up.  Or, we just let folks go wild and somebody can get viciously stabbed with a short sword.  Either way.

But, I guess the problem is this would instantly make these folks famous.  So folks would be picking fights on Twitter just so they could get into the Coliseum and then become #1 on Instagram.  Fuck, my idea sucks.  It solves nothing.

Hmm, how about instead of bloodsports, we adopt the ancient Mayan or Aztec custom of human sacrifice?  If two people threaten each other on the train or Twitter, they get tossed into a cenote, or have their heart ripped out on the steps of the Supreme Court?

Japan hosts sporting event, things happen

Five years later I can’t really say my overall opinion of the Olympics has changed much. This boondoggle probably made a whole bunch of Japanese construction guys super rich ala The Bad Sleep Well. Instead, they probably should have spent all the money fixing Fukushima but oh well. What’s a two week sporting event for supermen and superwomen when you can just go ahead and dump a billion gallons of radioactive water into the oceans. Silly oceans, what do they really do for humanity anyways?

What really is kind of crazy is how the IOC and the Japanese government are so hell bent on making this happen. To them the Olympics must happen. All the athletes are already there, rearing to go. Why? What makes these two weeks so special that they have to risk the health of the Japanese nation just so a bunch of creepily machine engineered humans can defeat the other creepily machine engineered humans by 0.15 seconds.

Well, the first answer is money. And the second answer is money. The third answer is politics (Japan sees cancellation as a political failure. Let’s not forget the IOC is a corrupt money pot like FIFA where dishonest men and women go work to take backhanders from politicians and corporations. Don’t think these politicians and businessmen are just gonna go ahead and let the Olympics get cancelled just because somebody’s health might be endangered.

I have this idea for an official Tokyo Olympics commercial. It’s of a random human buying a Coke with a Visa credit card and then getting into their Toyota with Bridgestone tires while wearing an Omega watch and they’re talking on their Samsung phone and so are so distracted as they exit the parking lot they run over a 78 year old Japanese woman on her way to get tested for covid. Then they quick cut to a whole line of rich dudes in suits licking their cigars with 10,000 Yen notes and the CEO of Omega looks directly into the camera and wryly states, “Stupid peasant, she should have gotten out of our way.”

Eh, why bother? I’ll probably just binge watch a BBC series on Netflix for two weeks. Or, like, read a book.

enjoy the spectacle, for one day, we shall die

it’s the Super Bowl, sort of

Coming up! On tomorrow’s special feature, an elderly narcissist duels a mostly humble upstart who might one day supplant his records. Will the upstart change football generations in one three hour block of domination? Will the narcissist use all his dark major powers and quack snake oil health products to summon the ghost of a dead unicorn to play slot receiver for him? Tune in tomorrow to find out!

I have met zero, and I mean zero people in the last few weeks who are cheering for the Bucs. Why? Simply put, everybody, and I mean everybody wants Tommy to lose. Even people I know who are apathetic to football know who’s playing and want Tommy to lose.

What did the greatest football player of all time do to deserve this? Well, part of it is undoubtedly jealousy. The guy has more money than Satan, has won the Super Bowl six times, is married to a supermodel, and probably has a whole gaggle of Oompa-Loompas at his mansion to be his manservants.

But, it’s mostly because Brady is an insufferable shit. His canned fake public statements are worthy of the most jaded public relations hack. Brady so polished and calm and fraudulent in public that his second career should be to establish his own public relations / reputation firm. He’d make billions.

His wife is a known bitch who openly insults just about any form of humanity that displeases her highness. And then greatest of all is the TB12 health line which if you, an average ordinary man tried to sell this, would do a decade in prison for medical malpractice and fraud. But Tommy is famous and rich, so he gets away with harming real, live human beings with his fake health/medical regimen and products.

Oh, and yeah, he did cheat for many years. And like Bill, he got away with it. Would he have still won six titles without cheating? Probably. But still, he cheated.

Maybe in two decades after Mahomes has one his sixth title he too will have succumbed to the human frailties of riches and power at the pinnacle level. Maybe when he’s 40, Mahomes will be despised too. At one point, Brady was just a humble sixth round draft pick who at 24 won his first Super Bowl and was adored as the underdog who made a miracle happen.

What I do know is you couldn’t ask for a better historical matchup. This will probably go down as one of the most famous Super Bowls of all time. Enjoy it!

a classy drink for the true gentlemen

You may have noticed recent television advertisements where ordinary average gentlemen, day care worker, former crash scene investigator, and jai-alai extraordinaire Conor McGregor shills for Proper 12 whiskey, aka his own whiskey company.

Just as a reminder, here is the video of McGregor sucker punching an old man square in the face in a Dublin pub for refusing to drink his “shite” whiskey.

Conor’s walking around with his bottle and handing out free shots.  Conor lays the plastic cups on the bar and the old man emphatically takes two of them and slams them back behind the rail.  Conor didn’t take this well and like all true gentlemen responded with cowardly violence.  Conor has to be physically restrained by his handlers otherwise I guess he would have kept wailing on this guy?  What a piece of shit.

So if you want to drink Proper 12 (my Guests and I aren’t sure why anybody would particularly when there are 271 better whiskeys available) in case you were tempted we propose the following.  You can drink Proper 12, but if you have to take a bare knuckled punch to the face from that old man.  You might not think this is a big deal, but:

1) Old man directly and deliberately shined on lethal martial arts champion

2) Old man takes a sucker punch directly to the skull without falling from his bar seat

3) Old man thinks so little of said sucker punch that he doesn’t even bother to rise from his stool

4) Old man did all of this while probably six pints into the black stuff clearly in front of him

Do you want to fight that old man?  We sure don’t.  Don’t drink Conor’s shite.

proper shite

spot the shite in this shot

oh, no, it’s happening again :(

Why do we do this other stuff?  Why not.  If nothing else, football gives us a chance to relax from the deeper issues we post here at TAP.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to a third blog to post (one way or the other) about my opinions on the Internets outrage related to [insert anything here].

Either that, or jump over to our brother site.  Bask in the high quality website design.  Pay no attention whatsoever to the actual written content.  Either way.

ben-roethlisberger.jpg

Unrelated photo of big huggable dummy bear.

oh, no, it’s happening again :(

Why do we do this other stuff?  Why not.  If nothing else, football gives us a chance to relax from the deeper issues we post here at TAP.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to a third blog to post (one way or the other) about my opinions on the latest Trump administration rumor.

Either that, or jump over to our sister site.  Bask in the high quality website design.  Pay no attention whatsoever to the actual written content.  Either way.

Alliance_of_American_Football.png

Unrelated logo of organization with name worse than the Fourth Reich, run already, by idiots.

oh, no, it’s happening again :(

Why do we do this other stuff?  Why not.  If nothing else, football gives us a chance to relax from the deeper issues we post here at TAP.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to a third blog to post (one way or the other) about my opinions on the latest Israeli-Palestinian violence.

Either that, or jump over to our sister site.  Bask in the high quality website design.  Pay no attention whatsoever to the actual written content.  Either way.

Detroit Lions v New York Giant

Unrelated photograph of insane man.

oh, no, it’s happening again :(

Why do we do this other stuff?  Why not.  If nothing else, football gives us a chance to relax from the deeper issues we post here at TAP.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to a third blog to post (one way or the other) about my opinions on the latest FBI firing.

Either that, or jump over to our sister site.  Bask in the high quality website design.  Pay no attention whatsoever to the actual written content.  Either way.

J.E.T.S.

oh, no, it’s happening again :(

Why do we do this other stuff?  Why not.  If nothing else, football gives us a chance to relax from the deeper issues we post here at TAP.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to a third blog to post (one way or the other) about my opinions on NFL players kneeling or standing during the national anthem.

Either that, or jump over to our sister site.  Bask in the high quality website design.  Pay no attention whatsoever to the actual written content.  Either way.

the strange journey of the worst (but just possibly, eventually, the best) Super Bowl viewing ever

The Giant Octopus and Roger Goodell’s Manservant that is the NFL likes to claim the Super Bowl is the biggest game all year.  This is true if you ignore the World Cup final every four years.  It also ignores various one off potential annual events such as a royal wedding, the alien invasion ultimatum beamed from the surface of the Moon, non-existent presidential impeachment proceedings, a cat barking like a dog online, or competitive cheese grating competitions.

So you’d figure the only place the NFL wouldn’t want you to watch the game is on said surface of the Moon.  Otherwise catching your eyeballs is meant to be easy, so that you watch, and they make more money, right?  Nope.  I remain constantly astounded at how traditional media makes it as difficult as possible to watch their product.  If you want to understand why Netflix is eating the souls of traditional television, I give you this tale.

I am abroad for over one year.  I want to watch the Super Bowl.  After extensive research I determine only one local cable television provider is allowed to broadcast the game in this country.  To demonstrate the absurdity of this, I offer you the comparison that say Verizon would be deemed the only cable company in the US allowed to show the game.

I do not possess said cable company.  So my options are to troll a local bar at 4am, which is too much, even for me, or to watch the game online.  Thankfully, NBC Sports is offering and widely promoting that this Super Bowl is special and is going to be streamed online.  Great, done.  I test the NBC link, it works, I go to bed early.

I awake early morning and am ready to watch.  The link doesn’t work, NBC Sports shows a blank screen.  After much frantic research I get to the fine print of the NBC Sports help page where the answer to: “Why doesn’t your fucking player work like you said it would?”  Is answered by: “Oh, by the way, though we don’t say so clearly up front, if you’re not in the US, the player won’t work, thanks, and go fuck yourself.  Signed, NBC.”

So I guess my recourse is to what?  Go get wasted in a local bar and get into a cage fight with an intoxicated Eagles fan who’s throwing batteries at the likewise intoxicated Pats fan down the bar?  Or, that I should purchase this other one singular cable company just to watch this one game?

Does anybody actually do that, switch cable providers just to watch one game?  Is that what they’re angling for?  Because if not, I don’t quite see the benefit to NBC, or the NFL, or to any Giant Octopus organization gained by denying my eyeballs the opportunity to easily watch the game and thus their advertisements.  If this happened to me, it likely happened to millions of others when you consider the NFL wants north of 100 million worldwide to watch this game.  That’s not a minor rounding error in eyeballs.

I thought, for a brief moment, to just go back to bed.  I did not, because I’m a sucker, and because I really, really wanted to catch this game.  It was important.  For you see, even though folks were calling for a Pats blowout, I anticipated a good game.  Also, while I’m abroad, some kind folks are watching my precious, precious doggies.  They live in Jersey.  They are Eagles fans.

I can’t stand the Eagles.  I love my team.  So do my dogs, they told me so before I left.  But my team is out of it.  So when my doggy host family says to me, gee, are you okay if we put Eagles bandanas on your dogs like we do with our dogs?  I essentially have no choice.  I have to go along with it.  They’re awesome people, so sure, go ahead.

And so my precious, precious doggies have Eagles bandanas (oh god, please help me) on during the Eagles’ underdog win over the Falcons.   And so my precious, precious doggies have Eagles bandanas (oh god, please help me) on during the Eagles’ underdog win over the Vikings.  And after going 2-0 with a backup quarterback?  Well, by that point they’ve got it in their heads that my dogs are the key.

As long as the bandanas are on my dogs, my precious, precious doggies (oh god, please help me) the Eagles’ have an underdog win over the Pats.  So I have to catch the game.  Because I think it’ll be good, and because I’m texting the host family and me Ma during the game.  It’s expected, I have to be a part of the experience because my precious, precious doggies are apparently more important than Jason Peters’ ACL.

So what do I do?  I get the game via radio.  I hang out in my flat for three darkened early morning hours and listen to the game via internet radio like it’s 1937.  During this time, I’m texting me Ma and the host family via WhatsApp.  I get bombarded by incessant pictures of my precious, precious doggies wearing Eagles bandanas.  My oldest is smiling widely in most of these pictures, my youngest is apathetic and asleep.  It’s all good, I miss them.

And I follow along via the radio while they have the live broadcast back home.  They see it, I hear it, and we’re texting within seconds of one another with our wows and surprise at what ends up being one of the great Super Bowls of all time.

I get Kevin Harlan to call the game, and he’s quite good.  Then I get Boomer Esiason as the color and he’s constantly reminding the audience why HE would have called the play differently, thus reminding said audience why Boomer is relegated to a radio vice television existence.  They also have Mike Holmgren to do analysis, which was news to me as I thought Holmgren was either (a) dead or (b) in the toll booth business.

It was my worst Super Bowl ever, loser that I am.  I’m in some dank, lifeless, stale flat alone with cheap beer in the early hours of the morning listening to a game on the radio and texting home and my precious, precious doggies have Eagles bandanas on.  It was one of those: “You’ve wasted your fucking life” moments.

Except that it wasn’t.  Halfway across the world I could connect with family, my host family, and my dogs.  I followed the game with the same level of emotion as if I’d seen it on a screen.  When poor, poor Tommy got strip sacked I screamed out loud with giddy joy.  I was there, and in it.  I’m not an Eagles fan, I hate them, but man did I ever want to see the Pats go down.

And I wonder, years down the road, if the bizarre nature of my viewing experience, and all those wonderful texts, and what a great game it was, will in the end be the greatest Super Bowl I’ll ever live through.

zdu4j6xla9tf0vlbickc.jpg

Oh man, was this ever sweet.  Must have been the bandanas.