I'm a conspiracy-theorist. That plain, that simple. Want to talk about Trilateral commissions, who really shot JFK, what was on William Casey's toothbrush the night he had his cerebral hemorrhage in the midst of the Iran-Contra scandal, the oil cabal, Mark Foley, the government's compliance in the AIDS epidemic if not their creation of it...... you name it, I'm your guy. Which is why I also believe the NFL has conspired for the greater part of this decade to make it possible for Peyton Manning and the Colts to win the Super Bowl. And I'm here to tell you why it must not happen.
This Sunday's Super Bowl XLI is the most important sporting event of the new millennium. Possibly the single most important event of the new millennium. I still can't believe the Colts actually won two weeks ago and made it to the Super Bowl, but then again the NFL conspiracy to get Peyton Manning hoisting the Lombardi Trophy so we can see his lily-white ass in more commercials shouldn't ever be underestimated... what do you think this is, the NBA? MLB? If he triumphs on Sunday, this time the commercials will be hourly. Hell, I think this gives the NFL Network license to make one day each week Peyton Manning day. Hmmmm.... NFL Cheerleader Playoffs or Peyton Manning? Let's show Peyton's kiddie porn home movies like NBC did in the season opener!!!!
Why this animosity towards Manning? Well besides the obvious (why not? Doesn't everyone despise this guy?), let's examine his anointment as the next Johnny U, Joe Montana, YA Tittle, et al before he actually ever did anything. His bronzing as golden boy as been underway ever since he didn't win anything at Tennessee (remember, the Vols won the national title the year AFTER Manning left) and his NFL career has always been more about monumental stats than monumental wins (even with the help of NFL officiating crews). Because he's a white QB playing for a middle America franchise he's pushed on the American public far more than any NFL black player is or would be and his existence has caused a rewriting of the history books to make a new generation believe father Archie Manning was a great QB on bad teams (incorrect, he was a middling QB on bad teams), while all but ordaining the Manning family as the NFL's version of the Kennedys or Bushes (depending on your viewpoint). This conspiracy allowed Archie to manipulate the 2004 NFL draft for his less talented next son Eli to play for the team THEY wanted, not for the teams which had fairly earned the right at first shot to attempt to employ him. Though I don't think there's a single person in San Diego complaining about how this one turned out, while Giants fans will be throwing large bottles of beer at the TV each time CBS cuts to little Eli sitting in a box with that dumb-ass grin on his face Sunday. And we're not even getting into the Peyton is a closeted homosexual thing-this is a classy daily website of information, we keep that stuff to the regular season.
The NFL so badly doesn't want their league to resemble the NBA-all black labor force being watched in person by a nearly all white crowd-they'll do anything to tilt the scales for any non-black player who's even remotely in the ball park (see Jason Sehorn). The way the NFL sees it, this is the next line of defense to not becoming the NBA. (Economically, culturally, the NFL owns America, far more than any other sport, on every level.)
While this may all pass as just being on the wrong side of fandom (I could poke holes in 'the greatness of Brett Favre' arguments just as easily), I've never been anti-Colts. I will almost always root for the AFC in the Super Bowl and ever since my beloved Tampa Bay Bucs won a title in my lifetime, I'm pretty content to just enjoy football now. Much like I was in the 1980s. My other team of preference, the Raiders, were always good then. And then came this QB from California who bitched and moaned that he would never play for the Colts (a dash of irony) and they shouldn't draft him and he was so great and he'd also never won anything in his life. His name was John Elway and throughout the 1980s and 1990s as the Broncos won lots of games and went to Super Bowls, I regularly sermonized to anyone who would pay attention that an Elway-Broncos Super Bowl win would be cataclysmic to the world. Destructive. Seismic. The beginning of the apocalypse. While the 1980s survived this heathen from SoCal/Denver (must have been Reagan, and later, perestroika that were Elway's kryptonite) the late 1990s weren't as fortunate. However, the back-to-back Super Bowl triumphs by the Broncos 9 years ago did go a tremendous way in proving the Elway as firestarter of the apocalypse out. John Elway's victory laps were distinctly the beginning of the end. Think about the events that have befallen not just America but the world these last 9 years: brutal African famine, debt and genocide; an election in the country that created democracy that debunked the entire purpose of the ideology; accelerated global climate change that is destroying the planet; oil companies reaping profits that the Robber Barons of the last century would be aghast at; 9/11; two failed American wars; terrorism of unfathomable proportions causing religious conflict not ever seen in human history; the French and Germans being right on diplomacy; tsunamis, earthquakes and natural disasters leveling amounts of people as never before; medical pandemics we thought eradicated or impossible striking everywhere; the dollar becoming a 3rd World currency; reality TV; Paris Hilton; scientology as economic power; Paula Abdul becoming a household name-again; the Police reuniting, etc., etc., etc. If these events don't convince you of the true feasibility of the Elway Theory, well, you probably think the moon landing was rigged and putting pop rocks candy and coke in your mouth simultaneously will get you high.
The point? If the Colts and Manning win the Super Bowl on Sunday, we will reach the middle of the end. Yes, the apocalypse that began 9 years ago in San Diego with the Broncos beating Green Bay will move into its second, more frightening phase. I'm not Nostradomus, that's someone else's gig, so I can't predict what exactly will happen, but rest assured, it will not be pretty. It is my job to tell you to get prepared and that the only current defense of the Four Horsemen riding in (that's the Manning Family: Archie, Peyton, Eli and the non-football playing brother, which makes him the ultimate grim reaper) is for the collective will and energy of everyone to be rooting for Chicago to triumph this weekend. Stage Two of the Apocalypse is not something I want to face right now (nor do I think the world is ready for) and is something I firmly believe can be delayed. However, a Manning victory, and we're only a mere decade (or less) away from the launch of Phase 3 of the end. And that really will be the end. I can't identify that icon yet, but I guarantee you he/she will be as hidden and disguised and summarily marketed as Elway and Manning were and the completion of the task will be more brutal and ruthless than what's accounted for the last nine years and could potentially be arriving in the next nine depending on the reading on the scoreboard come Sunday night at 10:30.
I know you're writing this off as crazy rantings, but take heed this time, for I'm not wrong. This is the AFC infiltrator, the Sith so to speak. We need the urban triumph of Chicago over the secondary market Indianapolis and their quiet, dark lord who comes masked as another. Either that or root for the Bears to knock Manning unconscious in the first quarter (or break his leg in a Joe Theisman Dirty Little Whore fashion; google it for context) so his influence on the outcome is rendered irrelevant to the football and other gods. Whatever it is you do to achieve inner sanctum, overdose on it this weekend, for the world needs you. Pray, meditate, do yoga, listen to The Hold Steady, eat bratwurst, get drunk, whatever, just do it with collective good vibes heading Da Bears way.
If you awaken Monday to the Colts as Super Bowl champions, break out the stage 2 of the apocalypse kit you bought a few years back. Don't know where it is? Better start looking. Go Chicago!
By Gray Shades