Bird flu brains

I'm a late to say something about this, and in the auto-refresh speed of our news cycle these days I might as well be analyzing the stunning breakthrough of Trohg for grinding the corners off a cube to invent the wheel.

MIA's middle finger at the Super Bowl. My immediate reaction was a juvenile glee, but what I didn't anticipate is how much more I would enjoy her crass act once I got wind of everybody else's reaction. The Stuff Shirts were highly offended, demanding "sanctions" (however the fuck you lay sanctions on something like that), demanding apologies, howling for fines and whateverthefuck else the could extract from an event that offended their delicate sensibilities. For the degree of their outrage, you'd think MIA heaved a molotov cocktail from her vaginal canal onto a replica of the Pietà. Because, as you know, they would never revere someone that gave the finger once.

Then the Cool Kids chimed in, poo-pooing the fact that somebody would be so unoriginal as to give the finger to a camera during a major - the major - sporting event in America. They responded with bland insouciance the way teenagers will hide vain contempt whenever their parents try to sound hip by describing things as "tubular!" and "just awesome!"

All in all, I probably wouldn't have given MIA's short bout of bird-flippin' a second thought once my laughter subsided were it nor for these opposing factions taking equal parts umbrage. Now? I think it's even better because, though she couldn't have anticipated it, MIA managed to piss off everybody: the stiffs and the hipsters. Two affected groups I detest are both angry about the same thing, and that's enough to lull me away into a delightful slumber.

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