The controversy surrounding the Super Bowl halftime show in Houston has me deeply concerned about the state of the nation.
What manner of twisted bible-thumper cares more about the exploits of Janet Jackson’s right breast than the accomplishments of Adam Vinateri’s right foot? How unpatriotic.
Hearing people complaining about an accidental-or-not glimpse of a pierced areola on Super Sunday — our most ethnocentric of days — offends and saddens me, as a fan of the National Football League, and as a pro-nipple American.
Nevertheless, the Christians complained and the chairman of the Federal Communications Commission Michael Powell has ordered an all-out inquisition into the matter. Powell claimed he was watching the game with his two children and found the incident to be “outrageous.”
“We all as a society have a responsibility as to what the images and messages our children hear when they’re likely to be watching television,” Powell said.
The children — won’t someone please think of the children? Screw the children! What sort of imbecile, sex-deprived and feeble-minded children is Powell raising to be psychologically distressed by the mere sight of a tit?
The problem is severe: our culture is terribly, tragically and possibly dangerously under-sexed. Do not be fooled by the seemingly pervasive attitudes of crazy white rich people who claim the opposite. There is a suffocating want for sexual stimulus.
Sunday’s Nipplegate is perhaps the saddest example in a long, growing line of scandals perpetuated by sex-starved Americans.
If you are planning on studying abroad, particularly in Italy or France, be sure to ask your hosts how newsworthy their political leaders’ sexual exploits are. They will tell you that an executive office blowjob would not even make the evening news in their country.
“Who cares?” an indignant Italian would ask you. “How are they running the country — that’s what’s important.”
“Good for ‘hem,” the fellatio-loving French will say. “Meh-be I should runah for pre-see-dent, eh?”
If we all had the right amount of sex in our daily lives, would anybody — anybody — still care about the videotaped escapades of semi-celebrities like Tommy Lee and Paris Hilton? Would we still be tantalized by unbelievably boring, grainy-green homemade porn? Unless we ourselves were in it, of course.
One of the most infamous local additions to the anals of Urban Legend history surrounds an innocent and remarkably limber University of Wisconsin freshman whose private webcam videos (made for her far-off boyfriend’s enjoyment) were distributed via Internet to every male college student in the universe.
Every year a new batch of freshmen arrive at UW, clinging to high school sweethearts over long distances. Hearing this cautionary tale and often respond, “Why would anyone do that?”
These frosh, and everyone who peeked at the green, nubile Hilton, should instead be asking themselves, “Why haven’t I tried that?”
Give yourself some credit, America. The wild sums of money Hilton is set to inherit are not what entitled her to lascivious behavior. It is our god-given right as Americans!
When Hilton is 90 years old and her tight skin has grown wrinkled and slack on her bony body, she will find comfort in telling her grandchildren, “I was once un-be-lievably do-able, and I have a tape to prove it.”
The Founding Fathers of our country certainly counted the fact that humans are libidinous creatures among the truths to be self-evident. Imagine how sexualized Ben Franklin’s after-bars must have been. Are there limits to the amount of play you could get with a pick-up line such as, “I started the Revolution”?
The Declarers of Independence were certainly down with gettin’ down as reflected in the much heralded but often disregarded First Amendment. Are we to not only tip-toe around language and media that could be considered treasonous under the Gestapo guidelines of the Patriot Act, but also fret constantly about what someone might consider indecent?
One of the most heartbreaking examples of free-speakers bowing to religious fanaticism is the self-dissolution of A&F Quarterly. As Dan Savage wrote in his December 17, 2003 column: “A&F Quarterly provided awesome masturbation material for a generation of young men and women; it inspired countless young heterosexual males to do their sit-ups and wear their boxer shorts around their necks; and it taught them not to fear boy-boy-girl three-ways. Bowing to pressure from conservative Christians, feminists, and other killjoys, A&F announced last week that it was discontinuing the catalog.”
Sex sells, but I suggest the only reason it sells is because we’re all not getting enough of it on a regular basis. If we could spend just one day a year in a sexualized summer camp like the kind Abercrombie promotes, would we care at all about hard-bodies on eight-year-olds’ shopping bags?
I am widely known as a purebred, natural-born patriot and a lover of what this country used to stand for. The Statue of Liberty wasn’t out there for nothing. (Think she’s naked under that toga?) Beware of Love Haters. They don’t give a hoot in hell if you live or die. They are in this racket strictly for themselves.
Postscript: If anyone is interested in a sunburst nipple shield like Janet’s, visit luckysevenstudio.com.
