Football, Cows, and Losing Your Real Mind

And now for a moment of sanctimonious heresy: I hate football and think that it's a symptom of societal ills that are so huge and widespread, I don't even want to get into it.

You might think that's very un-Trailer Park of me. Not so. All you gotta do to develop a deep disgust towards the game of football is grow up in a place where related prowess in children is more valued by institutions (and the parents who support those places?) than any other kind of talent (like in, you know, math, science, writing, and other such silliness...)

Bitter much? (Okay, and my sister Martha could tell you about the time when I carried the ball the wrong way, but I'm over it.)

Yesterday was The Big Game. I'm not talkin Friday Night Lights (and no, my dear Long Island NY Friend, it ain't really like that here.) That would only plug up the two-lane in front of the stadium for an hour. The game I'm talking about created snarls on the highways all through town, thanks to the drunken fans playing bumper cars. Fortunately, by 11 PM they were all face-down somewhere (unlike when the kids' games are over... they're intoxicated but still on the road with mama's car.)

While all that multi-gazillion dollar ruckus was ensuing, a favorite blogger of mine was posting another of his calming perspectives on this thing we call Reality. I like how Kenton Whitman can get a dig in without inflicting pain. Much.

I'm trying to learn that whole "gentle" thing, really I am, but Kenton lives in Wisconsin, where apparently being surrounded by all those peaceful, big-eyed dairy cows translates to an inner contentment that rolls off a tongue tainted with a serious case of the Gentles. So when I start bullying my own Republic-blooded self about how I'm too damn caustic (our cows have long sharp horns and live to be eaten), I step back and pat that inner self of mine on the head with a little forgiveness.

My editor calls Kenton "a player" who's ultra in-tune with the idea that nothing matters anyway, so we might as well enjoy. [Editor's note: Did I really call him 'a player'?] Yes, you did, in a good way.

So, yesterday Kenton connected Farmville, that fabulous Facebook timekiller, with what he calls Realville. Both are games that we play. Except for my friends who shall remain nameless here, we're mostly secure in our knowledge that Farmville is computerized simulation. The catch is that we think Realville is for real.

Now, the idea that what we think of as real isn't really real is not just hard to grasp. It's scary. That's probably the biggest thing that stands in the way of 'getting it'. I mean, most of us have a few friends who can talk a good game in this arena after five tequila shots. But when they wake up the next day, all that big-headedness gets washed right down the toilet as they find themselves confronting what "real" REALLY means.

No, I'm talkin about feeling it all the way down to your molecules. Pretty terrifying. What if I lose my mind? Well... yeah.

Then there's the part of the game where you start actually LIVING like you GET that this isn't real. Holy cows.

Okay, to back off of sounding like a philosophy undergrad here, here's a piece of Kenton demonstrating the idea of Farmville versus Realville: 

"Dollars have no real value unless you and I agree they do, and yet people starve and die for lack of dollars. Daily, we deal with problems that have more to do with human convention than with actual realities."

Then he rolls the post up with:

"What would happen if we saw the nature of this Realville game we’re all playing, and began to question some of its rules? [yada yada yada - but all good] Or might we find a certain liberation if we recognized the workings of the game, and began playing with a sense of adventure and curiosity?"

My friends, I think the universe is telling me that it's time for me to play football. And not even fret about which direction I'm running.

{And if you must have Gamefood... here ya go: Real Skillet Popped Corn.
Okay, maybe it's only as real as everything else, but it tastes better than the even less real kind you nuke or, heaven forbid, airpop.}

Comments

[generic cialis]

I have a lot of cows in my farm, they are so beautiful.

[Editor's note: I just had to leave this comment here, full of spam as it is, because it's so quaint in its simplicity. Long live beautiful cows. Thanks for sharing, Mr. Generic Cialis.]

[costa rica north pacific condos]

i like this part of the post:"Dollars have no real value unless you and I agree they do, and yet people starve and die for lack of dollars. " is very good

[Editor: Me, too, Mr. Costa Rica Condos!]

[generic cialis]

i like this part of the post:""What would happen if we saw the nature of this Realville game we’re all playing, and began to question some of its rules? [yada yada yada - but all good] Or might we find a certain liberation if we recognized the workings of the game, and began playing with a sense of adventure and curiosity?"" is very good

[Editor: Mr. Cialis, you're starting to bore me to tears.]