A Few Thoughts on Taylor, Travis and world domination

Questions: Why does halftime at the Super Bowl last 100 years and feature stuff football fans have no interest in? Is it just me, or do others have no idea what or who Usher is? Does the NFL book halftime entertainment to fool people not remotely interested in football into watching. Do these people Tevo halftime and fast forward through the ads? Is halftime a plot by Budweiser to give fans time to run out for more beer? And just who the heck is Taylor Swift? If she’s so damned cool, why isn’t SHE the halftime show?

I confess: Until I saw Ms. Swift snag a pinot gris from a drooling bartender in some bank card ad (or maybe a phone ad) I was unaware that she was such a thing. I’ve seen that ad multiple times while waiting for play to resume. I’m a sports fan — baseball, football, golf. OK, golf isn’t really a sport as much as it is an endeavor. But I’m also somewhat culturally disconnected, and I kinda like it that way. It gives me time and space to mind my own business and not get too excited about anyone else’s — except for Trumpolympics (my new word of the week), which can be pretty exciting, in a sort of disgusting way. (This concludes my Trump bashing for this time — maybe.)

So, here’s the All-American girl and the All-pro tight end. They are having what could be the most public romance in history. Maybe Charles and Diana might have been subjects of such a frenzy of attention, but that didn’t have a happy ending, did it. In the case of Taylor and Travis, I wish them a much better conclusion somewhere way out in the future, when they are happy subjects of a “where are they now” story.

In the meantime, even culturally-ignorant me knows about them. In fact, I know that Ms. Swift will be significantly jet-lagged as she cheers for Mr. Kelce in Las Vegas on Sunday. If you don’t know about that, ask Google where Ms. Swift will be on Saturday. Pretty interesting, but also really none of my business. As Frank Zappa warned it would, all this info just kind of oozes in from every direction that media come from; left, right and middle — if there is such a thing.

But, get this: conspiracy theorists know a lot more than I do. Evidently, Ms. Swift is a Russian operative whose main purpose — besides endorsing Joe Biden at halftime — is to distract world attention while the United Nations (Russia is a member of the UN, after all) continues to build secret bases all around the world —not just in Idaho — where there will soon be half a billion AI-designed cyborgs — all with blue helmets, of course — ready to attack all governments of the world — “All means all,” you know — and achieve domination of the planet for Mr. Z. (you know damned well who I’m talking about) and his evil partner Mr. M., so they can set up a semi-Socialist, not-quite-Marxist, sort-of-Fascist regime headed by a computer so large that it has become sentient. (Look it up, conspiratologists! The word, I mean.)

Membership in certain social media groups — whose names I won’t mention for fear of being sued to smithereens — will be mandatory. Those who resist will be forced to listen to hours of Rush Limbaugh and Michael Savage, from where all conspiratorial knowledge flowed, lo these many years ago. Ms. Swift herself will be appointed Goddess of Entertainment in the new world order.

Oh, that’s right. She already is.

I’m being ridiculous, right? But I figure if the rest of the world can be ridiculous, so can I. In fact, it’s pretty easy, although maybe I should be careful. I once wrote in an April Fools column about how someone was going to drain Priest Lake and build a golf course, and a few people got outraged about that.

The real question for some folks, though, is this: Does Travis have Taylor’s music running in his helmet as he’s running his route in anticipation of catching a perfectly thrown pass from what’s-his-name Number 15? And, then how will what’s-his-name Number 15 and the rest of whoever do against the other whoevers with the gold on their uniforms and what’s-his name number 13 throwing or handing the ball to that other what’s-his-name number 25. I mean, who really cares, right? What’s really important is that Ms. Swift will be there, cheering for her guy — just as many other women do every day in regular life.

You go, Ms. Swift. I don’t know a lot about you, but I like you, glow-in-the-dark lipstick and all.

Super Bowl LVIII should be epic. I’ve cheered both teams all season, so go what’s-his-name and whoever! And, I’m skipping halftime.

Sandy Compton is always looking for new words. If you haven’t got out the dictionary yet, “paedomorphism” is defined as, “retention in adults of infantile or juvenile characteristics.”