By Eric Le Roy
El Conejito
I guess the frenzy is fading now, but (as usual, a day late and a dollar short) I would like to record a few belated thoughts on the recent Super Bowl in America. Not the game itself, mind you, which by all accounts was as boring as an argument between two dead people, but the Half Time Show, featuring an enterprising dude with a message who styles himself as ‘Bad Bunny’.
Truth be told, I like the name. Maybe it’s my literary bent, but I admire the play on words. You see, we normally entertain warm feelings about ‘bunnies’, right? Gentle. Innocent. And, by implication, vulnerable. Helpless, even. The impulse of most is to offer them love and protection.
‘Bad’, on the other hand, carries more complicated connotations. It can mean ‘evil’ (Hey, watch out, he’s a really bad guy). It can mean dangerous in a complimentary kind of way (Yeah, that Tyson, he was the baddest man on the planet in his prime.) It can suggest sexuality. (You should have seen the bad ass bikini that babe was wearing.) Or it can be merely self-deprecating. (I forgot the money again. Lord, I’m bad.)
Finally, there is the unspoken but irresistible echo of ‘Bugs.’ There was a famous bunny known as Bugs. Also, a lot of mafia guys. Bugsy Segal. George ‘Bugs’ Moran. Salvatore “Sally Bugs” Briguglio. It means someone who is crazy. Murderously so.
It was all this beautiful baggage that the real Bad Bunny brought to the Super Bowl.
Predictably, there was an uproar. In America, you can’t blink your eyes without causing an uproar. And, as is the case with every controversy, both sides had good points, and both had those not nearly as good. I will briefly summarize my interpretation of each side’s argument. And that’s before I get to the obvious politics involved.
Woke: BB’s performance was the pinnacle of inclusivity. ‘America’ is often used by smug ‘Americans’ to be a synonym for ‘United States’, when in fact, the USA is only a fraction of America. There is North America, which includes Canada. Ice hockey players. Lumberjacks. Eskimos. Then there is Mexico. Sombreros y tequila. Sexy girls lyricized by Texas cowboys. A lot of drugs and poor people. Central America. Great boxers. A lot of drugs and poor people. South America. Soccer champions. Rio. Evita and Messi. A lot of drugs and poor people. The Caribbean. Reggae and rum. Tourists who sometimes get murdered. A lot of drugs and poor people.
A great Melting Pot, mostly unmelted.
So no, the USA can not lay claim to being the only ‘America’. The Bunny had every right to point this out. Moreover, the fact that he did the whole show in Spanish was fine with me, except for the political implications, which I will get to later. Language was never a barrier. One of my all-time great loves was a woman (from Madrid, actually) who used to play Camilo Sesto songs for me all the time. I understood the songs without understanding the words.
Even now….
When I lived in Russia, I really loved Russian Rock. So different from anything I had ever heard. My Russian friends used to kid me. They’d say, “If you understood how stupid the words are, you wouldn’t like the music anymore.” Wrong. Totally. It was the sound, unique to me. I imagined the Russian women who were often the ones singing those songs. I dreamed of tumultuously torrid futures with those sexy-sounding Tatianias and Ksenias. 1000 of them, plus the one I married (Liubov).
There were also great Russian singers, most notably Alla Pugacheva (and others), whose music ranks among the best I have ever heard. But I didn’t understand the words. Even the great films, some from the Soviet Union, got through to me because I felt the emotion of the story. Also, it was easier to follow the narrative because filmmakers back then actually developed the characters and plot. So you could figure it out. It wasn’t all graphic sex, splattered gore, and a bacchanalia of special effects.
So (back to songs), not understanding the lyrics, far from exposing the inanity of the words, actually lent them mystery and magic. Which was exactly why I listened. Moreover, and maybe it’s something to do with my hearing or ability to distinguish one sound from another, but I have trouble understanding the words to songs in My Own Language. English. I can’t tell you how many times I have listened to a song in English and had NO Idea what they were saying. If I liked the song, I’d have to go to YouTube and try to find the lyrics.
If you don’t believe me, try listening to an old, old pop song called ‘Louie, Louie’ by a group that called itself ‘The Kingsmen’. The words are so garbled that Richard Nixon (the crooked President in the 1970s) thought that the lyrics contained a secret communist plot. He demanded an investigation to find out. But, of course, he is the same guy who thought that Peter, Paul, and Mary’s song ‘Puff the Magic Dragon’ was about going from beer to marijuana to heroin.
So, to sum up, spreading the name of ‘America’ to make it real, to make it accurate – no problem here. Songs in a foreign language? No probs there either. Of course, the Bunny also spoke mostly in Spanish (apart from ‘crooning’), and he tended to mumble. Or maybe it was the acoustics. For all I knew, he could have been discussing recipes for black bean soup. Or the Edmonton Oilers’ chances of winning the Stanley Cup.
MAGA: This was the biggest sporting event of the year in the United States. A chance for family reunions, cook-outs, the reassertion of ‘traditional’ values, and, by God, a good head-knockin’ football game. Yee Hah! And why not? Certain things are purely American (in the USA sense), and it shouldn’t leave you declassified from basic guy to hate-spewing racist (with all kinds of toxic phobias attached) just because you kinda like doing things the way your Daddy and Grandaddy did. That can mean anything from eating hot dogs on the 4th of July to blowing your neighbor away with your sidearm because his dog pissed on your lawn. Anything from studying the Holy Bible and preachin’ the gospel to drinkin’ whiskey, eatin’ pussy, and shootin’ the shit.
Conservatives talk about traditional values, and it is fair to question just what those values really are. The Libs say it’s little more than promoting ‘whiteness’. But surely some traditions reflect more than just reactionary politics or tribal anger. It is through ritual, especially shared ones, that we connect, not only with the living but with our ancestral ghosts. There is nothing to be ashamed of here, even though the Far Left element in America is forever trying to ruin the present by throwing the less-than-savory details of the past in our faces.
According to the social justice warriors, all holidays that celebrate the birth of the nation should be abolished as reveling in colonialism or racism. Now, I am not so stupid and uninformed as to pretend that these crimes didn’t occur. With the Native Americans, the overused buzzword ‘genocide’ has real application, and the travails of black people have long since been exposed to the world.
If I wanted to, I could give you a rousing lecture on the terrible things that the USA Americans have done at home and abroad. Yet the same could be said of the British Empire, the Roman Empire, and all the others, dating back to the Babylonians and Assyrians. I teach American and World History, and sometimes it almost makes me sick to get through the lesson.
I always look forward to the point when I can treat my students to a video of “Custer’s Last Stand’ just for the extreme pleasure of watching the Indians scalp those bastards. But they weren’t all ‘bastards’ at the Little Bighorn, were they? Most were just young, dumb soldiers – as are all soldiers – following orders, doing what they were told to do.
It sickens me.
But in defense of the United States, it was on the side of right in both the 20th-century World Wars, and it has given opportunities to millions of people, including innumerable immigrants. In my view, it is ridiculous to belittle the USA when there are totalitarian dystopias worldwide to deal with. The ‘American Dream’? It is both obligatory and trendy to ridicule this ideal.
Tell me this. What Other Nation has a Fucking Dream?
White Guilt is a terminal disease among the Woke. The nation has reached the point where putting up a Christmas Tree with Christian connotations and imagery is not allowed in municipal areas, but Muslims have free rein to celebrate Ramadan, do animal sacrifices, etc., on the Main Streets of America.
To many non-racists, non-homophobes, and non-Islamophobes, this seems unfair.
Many so-called bigots and racists are guilty of nothing more than taking notice of the fact that their towns and cities have changed, and that they find these changes confusing and disturbing, especially considering that their ‘guests’ do not bother to act like guests anymore. It is the most predictable thing since Jesus became a Christian that this upheaval of the former status quo will raise hackles.
On top of it, although they will virtue-signal this way and that, progressive citizens of the USA and the UK constitute the only people on earth where a significant number HATE their country. Frankly, this baffles me. It is stupid and grossly unfair, as it fails to factor in the great achievements that have occurred alongside the wickedness and the garbage.
As with all arguments that reach the level of serious controversy, there are valid and invalid opinions on both sides.
So enough.
I am always explaining to my students why language is important and how far this importance penetrates. The Super Bowl halftime show is vindication. The point is, the average American would have preferred to see the gig in English. Is that something terribly wrong?
Think about it. If you’re at the altar, getting ready to marry your cousin at a church in Boogerville, Arkansas, do you want the ceremony to be conducted in Chinese? If you have just been convicted of murder, and the judge is about to put you away for 25 to Life, do you want the sentence read out in Latin?
Ahhhhh, but we are no longer speaking of the America of the 1950s. And yes, many ceremonies of the New Republic are rendered in ways that violate the norms of that Brooklyn Dodgers past.
Behind both the outrage and ecstasy regarding the Energizer Bunny of Super Bowl XXXIV, a serious question emerges. The demographics are changing in the US, and it worries white people. Should it? Not for me to decide, but I sense that this is one of the real reasons why somebody like Bad Bunny has caused an uproar.
. All over the Caucasian world of Europe and the United States, racial, religious, and political differences are taking hold, influencing elections, and altering the population base of states and cities. The Middle East is not changing. Asia is not changing. Losing population, yes, but having to racially and culturally redefine themselves, are you kidding me?
China is not becoming less Chinese. Neither is Russia becoming less Russian. Japan is no less Japanese. Argentina. Azerbaijan. Korea (North and South), Israel, and Mexico. No identity crisis.
Not even in those countries from which people escape is there a feeling of need to undergo metamorphosis. They simply settle in and throw up a mosque or two. Or two thousand.
“Go West, Young Man!” has changed in nuance: it is now a global, rather than local, term. Yet only in the welcoming, acquiescent West has such self-hatred sprung up.
The Bunny tapped into that. But hey, it could have been worse. He could have used the gig to be officially transgendered. Maybe he didn’t think of that.
The Halftime Show at the Super Bowl threw the New Reality into the face of Americans who don’t want it to happen. The sense of threat was palpable, even among the cries of patriotic ideals violated.
Bad Bunny said: We are coming.
His critics fought back with Over our dead bodies.
Body counts are always sad.
My feeling is that one day, the present minorities, the people of colour, and even the Islamic religion will outpopulate the white people. They will try to take control. Why wouldn’t or shouldn’t they? The stated goal of one and all is that of tolerance, cooperation, and even brotherly and sisterly love.
But we know – as all failed utopians (like me) know – real life is not that way. It’s a dogfight from start to finish. And all this diversity song and dance that the Europeans, in particular, brought into their miscalculated equation (Once we get better acquainted with each other, everything will be fine!), has been revealed for what it always was: wishful thinking.
Nor is distance really the issue. Americans may not know Russians, and vice versa, and this is often used to explain their imagined dislike. But we also know that North and South Korea can’t get along. China and Taiwan. France and Belgium. The USA and Canada. In fact, neighbors tend to hate each other even more viciously than they do outsiders. It’s because with their neighbors, they actually know the bastards. Confirmed hatred is always more intense than imagined hatred.
What white conservatives see is a breakdown of order. Progressives say, yes, we are bringing on a New Order. And that, dear White People, means the ascendency of folks who don’t look and think like you. And who don’t particularly like you.
That was the true message of the Bunny, for all his telegraphed attempts to make a cloud for shared community. And since the funereal game itself proved secondary to the Half-Time Show, it was easy for the Bunny to command even more attention, although he lost an estimated 5 million of his audience to the Good Ole Boys halftime show on another channel. Stand Your Ground, Fella.
The Bunny said: WE are on the right side of history.
He was probably right. I am not convinced that the rise of colored, woke, or transgender people will make the world a better place. However, I doubt if they can make it any worse than it already is. Their continuing emergence, they will call triumph. Others will fume and push back.
So, like it or not, the bunnies are here, with more on the way. A proliferation of bunnies for the non-bunnies to contend with. This growing collision of ideas, languages, religions, and lifestyles will make the future both a battleground and a source of great theater.
A battleground if you love brawling, bleeding, and rolling around on the barroom floor. Theater, if you enjoy watching.
