It’s super bowl Sunday here.
A big day for capitalism.
One of the few times,
when we get excited,
People that don’t normally enjoy
giant men playing a game,
and giving each other brain damage in the process,
They like the movie-like ad’s.
They like the halftime show.
They like the connection with a huge population of the country.
They like having something to talk to their coworkers about,
on Monday morning.
Bet’s get placed on the giant men;
tons of money hang in the balance.
decide who wins money,
and who bet on the losing horse.
The giant men get paid millions,
to play the game of brain-cells
Millions are spent on production.
Millions spent on the advertisement.
And for a few hours,
we all watch the exact same thing.
A hive mind is created-
A moment of connection-
A mass psychosis is formed
with those who watch it.
People paint their faces
and drink cheap beer,
as they cheer on the giant men,
that they hope,
win the game of,
It’s something similar,
to what I imagine,
the pride in your country
used to be like.
But that died a while ago.
These sports are just nationalism,
they make some people happy.
I used to play this game.
I used to want to be one of the giant men,
who gets paid millions.
I didn’t get giant.
I broke bones.
I didn’t make it past high school
and the dream faded away.
Now I get to watch people live my dream,
while getting drunk,
and binging on junk food.
I suppose there are worse ways to spend a Sunday.