Football doesn’t really spin my wheels. But the guys pictured above could make my day two Sundays from now when they perform during halftime at Superbowl XL.  
Two years ago, when Janet Jackson exposed something that then-FCC Chairman Michael Powell’s children had apparently never previously seen – a human breast – an estimated 89 million people were watching the halftime show. Powell and great gobs of the right wing went instantly berserk at this eight-tenths-of-second assault on the nation’s morality. Shrieks from our latter-day Cotton Mathers. A month of punditary hyperventilating. A big FCC fine half-a-year later.

Last year, Sir Paul McCartney provided the half-time entertainment, and there were no faulty zippers or impromptu undressing, so the Monday morning quarterbacks had scarcely anything worth talking about except the game. Nothing for the theocrats or censors to bellyache, pontificate or legislate about.

This year, British rockers over 60 will again take over the halftime show, and, no offense to the mellow Sir Paul, I’m hoping that Mick and the boys will ignore their publicists and give our resident mullahs and warmongers something to scream about again. Nobody’s shirt or trousers need come off.  

The Stones can simply play No. 13 from their fine new album, A Bigger Bang.

By the time they’re into the second verse, every line into CBS will be jammed. By the end of the third verse, Dick Cheney will be on the phone to Tony Blair threatening a break in diplomatic relations. And by the time the Stones have stepped off stage, the folks over at the Weekly Standard and The Wall Street Journal editorial page will be pounding out their next lame screeds, and everybody in my house will be grinning from ear to ear.

If you still haven’t heard the song I’m talking about, here’s a preview of halftime’s “Sweet Neo Con”:

You call yourself a Christian
I think that you’re a hypocrite
You say you are a patriot
I think that you’re a crock of shit

And listen now, the gasoline
I drink it every day
But it’s getting very pricey
And who is going to pay

How come you’re so wrong
My sweet neo con…. Yeah

It’s liberty for all
‘Cause democracy’s our style
Unless you are against us
Then it’s prison without trial

But one thing that is certain
Life is good at Haliburton
If you’re really so astute
You should invest at Brown & Root…. Yeah

How come you’re so wrong
My sweet neo con
If you turn out right
I’ll eat my hat tonight

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah….

It’s getting very scary
Yes, I’m frightened out of my wits
There’s bombers in my bedroom
Yeah and it’s giving me the shits

We must have lots more bases
To protect us from our foes
Who needs these foolish friendships
We’re going it alone

How come you’re so wrong
My sweet neo con
Where’s the money gone
In the Pentagon

Yeah ha ha ha
Yeah, well, well

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah…
Neo con

Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! C’mon, Mick. Ignore those threats about ending your tour at Guantánamo.

[Cross-posted at The Next Hurrah.]

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