DeConstruction of the Sekuatean Empire: 02.2020

13 February 2020

The Anti-Valentine Rant

As we approach that day of reckoning - the most dreaded day of the year for many - perhaps it's of some comfort to realize that it's all based on someone being executed.

Yes, Mr. Valentine was killed for marrying couples in secret against the wishes of the government. Romans, you know. So strict. Strange how what goes around comes around. At any rate, he paid for his crimes. And there is nothing more romantic than that, right? Dying for love, for the cause of love. So, well, there's that.

Chocolate, flowers, tokens of affection, greeting cards, love notes.... Most of this slush funding comes as crass commercial putsch, of course. Marketing 101. It's all just a crummy money mill. Invent a season and sell stuff for the season--or else you be labeled a rube, called insensitive, shown the door as the truly despicable person you are! It's foolproof inasmuch as only fools fall for it. And there are so many fools among us. I see one in the mirror each day. I fall for it every year. But not this year! I've finally awakened from my stupor.

So this love thing...what is it? Science tells us it's nothing more than a firing of neurons. It's a biochemical reaction to a certain stimulus. See a pretty face, feel happy. A pretty face is determined based on genetic programming and environmental quirks. We know what we like. For men, it's easy: there are ass men, boob men, and so on. For women...well, I've read they like broad shoulders and a non-physical attribute called confidence. Magazines can be wrong. Social media is more accurate these days.

Even so, it's a walking stimulus. Advertising is based on walking stimuli; Valentine advertising is based on sex-related stimuli. The problem is that such stimuli exists year-round, so what's the big deal about one particular day of the year? Because, dear lovers of love, if you do not demonstrate said love to said lover, you are a rube at best and an ex-lover in the making at worse. There is no middle ground, only a pit of ruin.

Yet never fear! We have the means to solve your problem. Just like the commercials on radio and television with increasing annoyance the Internet (every single @#$%^&* web page!) is a message that you (me? yes, you!) have a problem. You did not know you had it but you do. And it will zap everything that makes you you from you! You do not want that problem, do you? Obviously not.
So for a certain amount of money we can give you something which will solve that problem. Drug companies do this, too, and clearly have mastered the art.

You go along on your simple, unadorned life, thinking it's just a matter of getting older, not having a quality sleep, suffering poor diet, or not having enough friends, or not enough cool, hip, advertising-worthy friends (but who can ever have enough of those?), and then... BAM!!! No, it's not your fault, so don't worry. Besides, we have a solution.

Buy this! Plenty to choose from. Eat this! Drink that! Take this! Wear this! Drive that! Look this way! Pay me! Pay us! Pay all of us! Or else you are not the person you want to be. Or else you can never be the kind of person you think you are! Give us money and we will solve your problems. We will roll back time, give you a make-over, prep you for your big re-debut, help you sweep the lover of your dreams off his/her feet! We will make you a god/goddess!

Give us your money and all will be resolved. It's that easy.

Oh, for shame. Got no money? Well, then you don't count. Never counted, in fact. And who would want you anyway? That is, without the money to buy all the solutions you obviously need to fix all the problems you obviously have in order to fit into this perfect, virtual society we have constructed and dutifully maintain for the glory of all who worship the almighty Valentine and the many minions of Münchausen mania! Only then will you be worthy of membership!

Just click off and log off the obstinate media and social media and return to your quiet humble existence. Perhaps cuddle up with a wonderfully understanding book boyfriend/girlfriend. Many do. It's not that weird. (I have 10 books I can recommend.) Three-hundred pages or so will definitely last longer than an awkward round of that sexercise thing you used to do - well, that was before the Valentine thorn in your side started to hurt.

Yes, I know I like to rant. Sometimes it helps. Sorry. Probably there's a pill for that. And I have some money squirreled away for just such a solution to such a problem - a problem I never knew I had, couched in a Valentine I never requested or expected, from a person I have yet to meet, smeared with chocolate melted in a hot car then re-solidified later. At least, I think it's chocolate. It counts.

(There do not seem to be any memes for "book girlfriend" FYI.)

P.S., For those who take this blog post as a desperate cry for help, I can confirm that I'm a l l r i g h t. Besides, I've got an unopened tub of ice cream just waiting for consumption. And a backup tub in case I need it. And directions to a donut shop.

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(C) Copyright 2010-2020 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.

08 February 2020

That Super Bowl

It's been only a week and still seems like a dream. Being older, I can handle dreams better now. It's been such a long time coming that for many of us in Chiefs Kingdom it still doesn't seem quite real: winning Super Bowl 54 (a.k.a. LIV) much less even getting there in the 2019 season.

For me, it brings back distant memories. Super Bowl I, back when everyone still used Roman numerals, between Kansas City and the Green Bay Packers was the only title game broadcast by two TV stations, one for the AFL and one for the NFL. Packers won 35-10 that day. But it was game on for the new AFL!

I was a little boy who played football with other boys in the neighborhood. Often I would go through the streets and backyards gathering a few boys so I could be the star quarterback to their receivers and halfbacks. If we found enough boys we could have a pick-up game in an abandoned field.

But on that day, I entered the living room and saw a football game on our black-and-white TV with the three channels available by rabbit ears. "What's that?" I asked my parents, sitting on the couch. My father turned and said, "They call it the Super Bowl." I asked who was playing and when I heard it was our team (we lived in Kansas City then), I learned my city had its own football team, the Chiefs. I was a fan from that day forward.

I missed Super Bowl II due to playing football with boys in the neighborhood, but I watched all the others. Well, except for one in the eighties because I didn't care who won so I offered to cover the shift of a coworker. But the others I watched, whether to cheer for a team or shout curses at a team hoping they would lose. Like with many Americans, it became a mid-winter ritual.

As a boy who loved playing football, I was such a fan that I went to training camp at William Jewell College in Liberty, Missouri just to get autographs. Trudging up from the field to the locker room at the end of a long day was Len Dawson (QB and Super Bowl IV MVP). I shyly stepped forward and asked for his autograph and he did not hesitate a bit to sign the notebook I had. Thank you!

Now, after many generations of players and coaches, some coming close and others far from it, the latest incarnation of the Kansas City Chiefs have returned to the big game and claimed the crown in dramatic fashion. There are plenty of written accounts and video highlights elsewhere if you wish to indulge in descriptions of the game. Following the protocol I had developed during the season, I avoided guacamole during the game - but chips and queso were permitted. I wore my gray sweatpants and a red t-shirt (alas, not a Chiefs shirt but still red) - the same outfit I wore when they won the game that started their winning streak culminating in the Super Bowl.

We have suffered through many bad seasons and, perhaps worse, the winning seasons that ended too soon or in unbelievable fashion (I'm looking at you 2018). But now it's happened. It's finally happened. If your team is regularly in the playoffs and if your team has been in a Super Bowl in recent years, you don't know the feeling of this moment. I even splurged on souvenir championship shirts and a cap - which I will likely never wear, keeping it clean and safe for another generation.

Congratulations, Kansas City Chiefs!

I always knew you would get there!