God and Sports

Happy Super Bowl, y'all

I'm a super bowler, by the way. My high score is like 140 or something. And our dogs, om, Ollie and Marcel, have super water bowls: One has their names on it, and the other has a new chinese character on it that means 'dog water.' Both were made by Sara's mom, Pat.'

In case you were wondering, I don't care who wins. Maybe the team that wins the coin toss. It really has nothing to do with how I feel toward the karma of the players, or fans, or anything. Not even the "better" team. It's a bizarre thing, where it rests solely and purely on the skill of the players and coaches. Prayer will do nothing. You have my advance warning, so don't even try. Please don't thank me afterwards. Thank yourselves. You are the Gods of your own arena. But do whatever makes you happy, so whatever.

I think I'll have a super bowl of cereal.

The whole world is in dire straits, some of us are thinking, and so these silly diversions and distractions and pasttimes are somehow less important, many people think. I think those of us who enjoy football should really let loose and have an exciting and pleasant time with family and friends. Viewership will be x this year, and the message of health and fitness and community and service and responsible citizenship, and I daresay lovingkindness, I might add, should really be presented with the force of one of these scary professional tacklers. We're all on the same team, here. All of humanity, really.

Go, God, go! Defeat evil! (I know Obama's voting Pittsburgh, but I'm being Switzerland, myself)