Everyone Knows the Super Bowl Is Fake
ADAM MICHAEL LUEBKE
Stating the Obvious
Everyone knows the Super Bowl is fake.
Well, the 12 billion dollars Americans spend on chips, cheese, salsa, beer, and mini weenies isn’t fake, but everything else about the Super Bowl is. It’s just an illusion, folks. Although, the advertising is not. That’s as concrete as it gets — hundreds of billions of dollars showing you cute, cynical, funny skits on how to live your life. That and the bean dip is the most real element of this mega sports game.
I can’t believe nobody has caught on to this yet. When I write ‘everyone knows’ I’m being facetious. It’s an obvious fact that nobody seems to know except me and my friend, the exiled cultural philosopher, Hubert Humdinger.
The only aspect of the game more illusory than the game itself was the Half Time Show.
“It’s always a Satanic ritual of some kind,” Humdinger told me. “It’s usually a beaten sex kitten reared by a group of pedophiles and exploited until she goes bonkers in her 30s.”
Humdinger was shaking his head. “The show was mostly for the 41st president. It takes a lot to thrill him after all the blood and gore of his administration and lifestyle. Nothing short of demonry and domination get him sprung from his wheelchair.”
Even if the big game looked so real to you on your TV, it wasn’t. Even if you swear you know somebody who knows somebody who went to the game, you don’t. It’s just a ruse. A 21st century parlor trick.
Did you see Tom Brady as his team was down by 14, and he threw an interception and that Falcon flew straight into the end zone? I admit, the special effects were dazzling.
You’d have thought that primal, animal look in Brady’s eye was the real thing. Desperation–a wounded, sorrowful beast unwilling to give up the ghost to another beast. O! the humanity! I thought. Nobody’s going to believe this entire game is a cleverly choreographed set of reflections created by a handful of graphic design experts hired by the Deep & Dark State to keep the American public worried about their threatened way of life. A holographic coup, of sorts.
If you watch closely enough you can see where the players’ helmets merge and meld into the background. You’re watching a glorified Tecmo Super Bowl.
According to three sources of mine (two from North Korea), this has been the case since 2007. The Super Bowl hasn’t been real since then. I don’t know where that leaves us. I don’t watch football.
But may I suggest: Wouldn’t it be easier on humanity if nobody cared? Wouldn’t it be easier to drop your loyalty to a team that doesn’t even know you exist? Let the fantasy go, I say, and worry about something worth worrying about.
Like how the money you spend is printed on toilet paper, and every time it is, your collective debt goes up. You’re paying interest on every created dollar. That’s another kind of illusion that nobody wants to talk about. But don’t say that out loud to your buddy while he’s scooping up the chili cheese sauce on the fragment of a chip and the edge of his thumb. He likes living in fantasy land, and sucking up the crumbs from the Master’s Table.
Wouldn’t it be easier not to care at all?
I saw fans, split in loyalty for NFL teams that weren’t even in the Super Bowl, and still holding grudges left over from the 90s. Some kickoff that went awry. A fumble from a butter fingers. An untimely pulled hamstring. A haunting, late fourth quarter penalty. Is it worth taking this venom to the grave?
Wouldn’t it be easier to admit it’s fake and splash some cold water in your face?
Everyone knows it, but they just don’t want to admit it because their private worlds would crumble and they’d have to think up another reason to not think about the inevitable end of life (death). If that statement is too simplistic, then it’s only simplistic because the extraneous layers have been stripped away.
Everybody knows the Patriots were slated to win it. The controllers of culture wrote it that way. It’s a great narrative — “fantastic story” as the president would tweet. Tom Brady leads his boys back and pulls off an overtime win. This keeps America happy. Satisfied enough. Ask Brady when his handler told him the plan. “You’ll be a bigger legend than before, my boy.”
Oh yes, let’s not forget, the real Tom Brady is not real. He doesn’t exist either. Sure, somebody that looks like the star on TV, Tom Brady, exists. He dances with stars, poses for pictures, and even has a sweet little family. Even Disneyland parades Mickey Mouse around from time to time. It doesn’t mean a seven foot mouse with a harelip and three fingers is real because you grew up watching him bumble around on TV.
As the exiled cultural philosopher Hubert Humdinger told me when I asked him if he watched the Super Bowl: “Of course I didn’t watch it!” he hollered. “You people traded your spirits and your souls for piles of peanuts and you can’t seem to crack them open fast enough. Woe to all of you! I’ll be living in my cave until I’m called back to the Source. May He have Mercy on me.”
Well, Humdinger was never much of a football fan. He can’t even fake it.
[Superbowl LI header photo courtesy of U.S. Customs and Border Protection, Wikimedia Commons; command center photo courtesy of US Customs & Border Protection, public domain, Wikimedia Commons]