Does anyone else see the irony in the outcry over a glimpse of Janet Jackson’s breast. It happened during a segment of a garish, tasteless intermission show in the that most unrelentingly commercial of all television spectacles, The Super Bowl. This game, of course, is the pinnacle of competition in one of our most violent national sports, football. It’s estimated that some $2 billion changes hands in gambling on the games in any ordinary football Sunday – we can only imagine the spoils from betting on this game. OK… I think we’ve established the setting.
Earlier today, I was watching an the 1984 Miss America Pageant on Trio (my new favorite TV network.) If you recall, Vanessa Williams became the first of many African-American winners. She displayed real poise, a beautiful physique and a powerful singing voice.
The pageant itself provides scholarships for all contestants and certainly has some value beyond the spectacle. However, publicly, it is primarily this spectacle. And the subject of the spectacle is the female body, faces and forms. The contestants parade in swim suits and evening gowns. They’re heavily made up and they carefully smile with tongues tucked behind white teeth dutifully bared behind glossed lips.
Now, to draw a parallel… just suppose some smirking tyrant brutalized several thousand people, destroyed their homes and their social order, killed their families and took over their country. He lied about so many things that we lost count. He took not only our money, but the money of our children and grandchildren. And we thought this was all OK.
But another man -- he had sex with an intern… that’s over the line!