Subject: The Devil made me write this email
The brouhaha du jour now saturating our society is the exposure of Janet Jackson's alleged breast during the SuperBowl halftime show, resulting in vast avalanches of cluckclucking about this scandalous invasion of the sacred family televiewing time. Howard Dean once again lost support by telling the truth in his comment thereon ("Up in Vermont, we call that making a mountain out of a woodchuck hole!"). Any student of Joseph Campbell knows that her performance was not too much, but rather not enough. Way not enough. The attendant ceremonies to the most important mass ritual of our society should be of equally profound semiotoreligious significance. The symbolic triumph of our warrior heroes needs to be accompanied by a halftime presentation of the virgins. After the game the members of the winning team should be charged with deflowering the virgins while Nelly and Poof Diddly parade around holding their crotches.

Beyond this, I really have to defer to historical anthropologists. It would be most aesthetically pleasing for there to be a ritual sacrifice of the deflowered virgins and the members of the winning team. This is in keeping with what they tell us about the way sports used to work in ancient Mesoamerican cultures. In today's decadent crass materialistic world, however, this could be a disincentive to many entertainment professionals concerned about their careers. It might be hard to convince Superbowl winners that it's a GOOD thing to be sacrificed, and might lead to a less-than-competitive performance during the game. But if they consented, at least they wouldn't have to go to Disney World.

Sounds a little Matthew-Barney-ish. And check out Fritz's drawings: