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In Praise of the Super Bowl

I wasn’t planning on writing about the Super Bowl. It seems to me that Virgil Vaupel covered the subject pretty well last week, and anyway, the game sort of speaks for itself. However, the entertainments transcended the competition so profoundly that I was moved to take up the pom poms.

Messages of inclusion and togetherness infused Lady Gaga’s rendition of the national anthem, and the weird assemblage of Coldplay, Bruno Mars and Beyoncé proved to be much more than the sum of their parts (mainly thanks to Queen Bey).

Think about it. This year’s performances featured a noted advocate for LGBT issues dressed to the nines and a pair of performers akin to Michael and Janet Jackson if Janet was more talented and political than her brother and the former was still alive and healthy enough to dance. And it all culminated with a stadium full of people raising signs in rainbow-flavored colors reading, “Believe in Love.” Signs held by fans of American football. During, did I say this already, the Super Bowl. This is something to celebrate.

Why? Because messages like these can be a signal of encouragement to young people living in remote places like Glasgow. “Huh,” queer kids in conservative families might think to themselves, “Dad likes Gaga?” The truth may be that dad doesn’t even know Lady Gaga is a champion of gay rights. All dad might know is that she looks great, sounds perfect, and made an album with Tony Bennett. But whatever he knows, it makes a shared moment possible for members of American culture who don’t typically see eye to eye. This is progress.

I get irritated when people dismiss a mainstay of American culture like the Super Bowl—a mainstay shot through with commercialism, but a mainstay nonetheless. What the average resident of, say, a massive coastal city might not realize is that we don’t have access to the same rate of cultural offerings in this part of Montana. That makes mainstream cultural events like the big game important in a way that’s kind of special.

I also get irritated when politicians like Rudy Giuliani try to run down artists as talented as Beyoncé for expressing deeply held convictions (while putting on a first class show). But let’s be honest, I bet the majority of you didn’t even notice the performance was in part a rallying cry for Black Lives Matter until you hit the Internet in search of titillating commentary. I know I didn’t.

The video for Beyoncé’s “Formation” contains references to the largely black victims of Hurricane Katrina. The aesthetic and themes of both the performance at halftime and the video (more than the lyrics of the song itself) express, among many other things, frustration with ongoing police brutality and a shortage of blind justice in our society. But it’s okay. Even if you disagree with the sentiments, it’s okay. It’s part of the deal we make with our artists: Devote your lives to our entertainment and we compensate you with some creative freedom and the space to express it. This is America, after all. Each of us can say what we like when we’re up on the stage. If Peyton Manning wanted to thank members of law enforcement for their sacrifices in the line of duty while celebrating Denver’s win, that would be his privilege. If he told the first reporter who came near him that concussions in football are causing many of his fellow players to pay for their careers with tragic physical consequences, that would be his privilege as well. That the same privilege belongs to Beyoncé should go without saying. The excellent Mr. Manning used his moment at the microphone to talk about drinking, “...a lot of Budweiser...” Beyoncé used hers to witness for something she believes in. Good for her. Good for both of them.

The main thing is this: It was a great show. Everybody knows it. And the people trying to tarnish the performances in San Francisco need to take a stadium full of seats and a wide open sky of big deep breaths. It’s a good day when the full might of American media contains sustenance for thought. It’s always a good day when that happens. Hurray for Super Bowl 50! And go Seahawks (kidding).

 

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