"Da Bears"
Anybody care to read the words of a pathetic puppy?
"Sunday was one of the greatest days of my young adult life," it begins (“Da Bears,” Oct. 9).
"Sure, that may be an exaggeration," the author concedes, "but I had the best time attending the Bear’s game with my pops...."
Seems that Matt Dahl--one of the many Dittoheads-in-Residence at the Jay The Joke clique--stands in a fetishized kind of relation to high-profile athletes and to the great wide world of sports.
Matt Dahl continues (you'll have to check out the photo he mentions for yourself):
Here I am pictured with Mr. Tom Thayer, sporting the Lakeshore Leap t-shirt. We got to be on the sidelines before the game, and I was literally 10 feet from Rex and Orton throwing some warm-up passes to each other. Last time, and the only time, I was on the field at Soldier, I was dressed as the Coca-Cola Polar Bear for a Mexico vs. Poland soccer game. That was futbol, not football. I have to say, however, that my favorite part of the pre-game ritual was several of the players gathering at the 10 yard line, removing their helmets, a nd dancing to the hip-hop being played over the loud speaker. It must be fun as hell to be one of those guys, especially when you’re the only undefeated team in the NFL. Booyah! Jeremey Piven was sitting down the row from us, and my dad and I got to chat with him for a while. He of course is a Chicago native. After the talk, we hugged it out, bitches. I am still coming down from the whole experience, and I’ll never forget it.
This utterly forgettable recollection, I believe, reveals a great deal about the mentality behind the Jay The Joke clique, and its deeply familial pattern. Not just the fetishization of atheltes and the world of sports in the DSM-IV sense of the paraphilias, either, with high-profile athletes as well as celebrities and the cult of celebritihood being repeatedly the preferred objects with whom this kind of paraphile identifies and around whom he orients his world. (I say orients his world, incidentally, because virtually all of the known cases of deviation (para-) are those in which the attraction (-phile) to high-profile athletes happen to be males.--No one who has looked at the Jay The Joke weblog could miss its pronounced sexual content. Much less the fact that among its more than 100 Dittoheads, there is at most one Dittohead who identifies herself as a female.)
But also the fetishization of athletes and of the world of sports in a broader, more philosophical, perhaps even Marxist or Frankfurt School sense of the term. Not as the result of a sick individual or even as the result of a sick family. (Although there is plenty of this in evidence around Jay The Joke.) But rather as the result of a sick society, in which superstar athletes and celebrity icons are thought to be the repositories of real human value and significance.
Pathetic. But worth exploring in greater detail.
Wake up, sports fans.
Anybody care to read the words of a pathetic puppy?
"Sunday was one of the greatest days of my young adult life," it begins (“Da Bears,” Oct. 9).
"Sure, that may be an exaggeration," the author concedes, "but I had the best time attending the Bear’s game with my pops...."
Seems that Matt Dahl--one of the many Dittoheads-in-Residence at the Jay The Joke clique--stands in a fetishized kind of relation to high-profile athletes and to the great wide world of sports.
Matt Dahl continues (you'll have to check out the photo he mentions for yourself):
Here I am pictured with Mr. Tom Thayer, sporting the Lakeshore Leap t-shirt. We got to be on the sidelines before the game, and I was literally 10 feet from Rex and Orton throwing some warm-up passes to each other. Last time, and the only time, I was on the field at Soldier, I was dressed as the Coca-Cola Polar Bear for a Mexico vs. Poland soccer game. That was futbol, not football. I have to say, however, that my favorite part of the pre-game ritual was several of the players gathering at the 10 yard line, removing their helmets, a nd dancing to the hip-hop being played over the loud speaker. It must be fun as hell to be one of those guys, especially when you’re the only undefeated team in the NFL. Booyah! Jeremey Piven was sitting down the row from us, and my dad and I got to chat with him for a while. He of course is a Chicago native. After the talk, we hugged it out, bitches. I am still coming down from the whole experience, and I’ll never forget it.
This utterly forgettable recollection, I believe, reveals a great deal about the mentality behind the Jay The Joke clique, and its deeply familial pattern. Not just the fetishization of atheltes and the world of sports in the DSM-IV sense of the paraphilias, either, with high-profile athletes as well as celebrities and the cult of celebritihood being repeatedly the preferred objects with whom this kind of paraphile identifies and around whom he orients his world. (I say orients his world, incidentally, because virtually all of the known cases of deviation (para-) are those in which the attraction (-phile) to high-profile athletes happen to be males.--No one who has looked at the Jay The Joke weblog could miss its pronounced sexual content. Much less the fact that among its more than 100 Dittoheads, there is at most one Dittohead who identifies herself as a female.)
But also the fetishization of athletes and of the world of sports in a broader, more philosophical, perhaps even Marxist or Frankfurt School sense of the term. Not as the result of a sick individual or even as the result of a sick family. (Although there is plenty of this in evidence around Jay The Joke.) But rather as the result of a sick society, in which superstar athletes and celebrity icons are thought to be the repositories of real human value and significance.
Pathetic. But worth exploring in greater detail.
Wake up, sports fans.
posted by Robert Bonner at 4:24 PM
<< Home