I’d like to note upfront that I am not “shocked” or “outraged” by the halftime spectacle at the Super Bowl. The NFL has pulled this stunt plenty of times before. Bring in an aging, irrelevant pop star and invite her to debase herself on stage for 12 minutes in an effort to reclaim the sort of attention she once attracted, back before she was an AARP member. It‘s too rote and cynical to produce real shock or outrage.
But that doesn’t mean we should pretend it’s acceptable. Even less should we meekly nod in approval for fear of seeming like the only prudes left in the country who think football games shouldn’t have strip shows at halftime. This is how the forces of degeneracy operate in our culture; this is their strategy. Have the hyper-sexualized performance with a woman rubbing her crotch on camera and gyrating on a stripper pole, and then loudly shout down with charges of “puritanism” anyone who dares breathe even the mildest protest about it. People who know better are berated into silence, and soon enough it is seen as “normal” and thus perfectly fine and healthy to air crotch shots and simulated sex on network television at 8:30 on a Sunday. Eventually we may get our first actual halftime sex act — perhaps they’ll hire performers from a Vegas Bunny Ranch or just find a pop star particularly starved for publicity — and we will no doubt be assured, even then, that only puritanical fundamentalists object.
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