Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Morford on Woods

I think golf is a silly game. I think golf courses are best suited to throwing feet-up third gear 60 mile an hour powerslides on an open pipe 40 inch Triumph (or BSA if you're so encumbered). Now that gives me goose pimples, but I couldn't give a shit less about Tiger Woods or any other multi-millionaire who made his bucks chasing a ball around like a little kid. He's got problems? Yeah, as soon as he got caught. Fuck him.

Mark Morford puts his 'apology' in perspective:

ABC's George Stephanopoulos called Tiger's little speech "one of the most remarkable public apologies ever by a public figure." Clearly, Stephanopolous might be more of a mental fluffball than anyone originally thought. (Gee, ya think? - G)

Dick Cheney slithering forth and apologizing for being a cancerous, warmongering monster whose brutal profiteering and shriveled soul cost thousands of young American lives? The GOP stepping out and admitting they killed health care reform because they really wanted to ding the scary black president, and don't really give a flying crap about your sick and uninsured children? Now those would be remarkable public apologies. A comatose golfer saying he's sorry for nailing some hookers whilst his family rolls around in $500 million worth of Escalades, diamond-crusted teaspoons and Swiss ski chalets? Not a remarkable apology. Clear?

But here's the bigger truth: Tiger wasn't apologizing to actual people, to his wife or kids or even his confused fans. Tiger was apologizing, straight up and to the bone, to capitalism itself. To his own brand. It was a scary attempt to shore up the multimillions in endorsement deals, his future as a billion-dollar icon. Tiger the man was apologizing to Tiger, Inc., mostly for tainting its earnings potential.

Perhaps there's still hope. Perhaps someday, a politician/celeb/icon embroiled in a crazy drug/gay/sex scandal will step up and say, "Hey, my apologies to my loved ones. I was a hypocrite. I lied about some stuff. I was sort of stupid about it. It happens. We all do it. I'm working on it. But you know what? No one died. Everyone will be OK. Life goes on. What's more: No one really cares. Or if you do, you really need to get out more.

"Did you know there are multiple, appalling wars going on right now? Disease and suffering of the highest order? The planet is dying in coughs and spasms? Do you know your kids can't get decent health care? Fish stocks are collapsing? A billion humans live in slums?

"So I slept with a gay hooker and enjoy a line of blow now and then. This really matters? You really care? We are flawed and silly species, each and every one of us. If we don't laugh and dance and face our demons like the grinning, preposterous monkeys we so very much are, we're all dead anyway. Who wants wine?"

By all means, wine! And waiter...open a new box. Nothing but the best for this preposterous monkey!

More. You should read.

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