It was Detroit, in 2006. That was the last time I watched a halftime show during the Superbowl. In the following eleven years, I have had no desire to see any of the acts, and with the likes of Madonna, Beyonce, and Katy Perry as the big-name performers, I have faithfully adhered to the teaching of the Church to avoid occasions of sin. This year, with Lady Gaga being the chosen entertainer, I continued my boycott.
Why any person who takes their faith seriously would watch a singer and the obligatory dancers grind away and grab certain body parts is beyond me. A few years ago, such gyrations would have landed people in jail. Apparently, having the ability to sing is just not enough to entertain the throngs, assuming that the singer can actually sing.
The day after this year’s Superbowl, I was asked by a Catholic couple I know if I had watched the halftime show. When I said no, they said that they thought it was very entertaining and kind of fun to watch. Instinctively, I replied that they probably couldn’t hear the lyrics of the songs, and if they had, they might have thought differently.
Now the truth of the matter is that I had never heard a song by Lady Gaga until the day after the above exchange. But I knew something about her reputation. So, I decided to find out what songs Ms. Gaga had actually sung at halftime and look at the lyrics. What I found was what I expected: garbage.
Let’s start with Lady Gaga’s big hit, “The Edge of Glory”:
There ain’t no reason you and me should be alone
Tonight, yeah, baby! (Tonight, yeah, baby!)
And I got a reason that you’re who should take me home tonight.
I need a man that thinks its right when it’s so wrong
Tonight, yeah, baby! (Tonight, yeah, baby?)
There’s more to it, of course, but the message is rather clear. The edge of glory is a hookup with some guy. After all, if she were singing to her husband, it wouldn’t be wrong, would it? So, we have a message that glorifies fornication.
Now we move on to another big hit, “Poker Face.” Here’s an “interesting” stanza from this little ditty:
I won’t tell you that I love you
Kiss or hug you
Cause I’m bluffin’ with my muffin
I’m not lying I’m just stunnin’ with my love glue gunnin’
I had to turn to the “Urban Dictionary” to understand this. To be delicate, a “muffin” is a crude word for a vagina, and “love glue” is an equally crude expression for the lubricant excreted by a woman during sexual excitement. Nice touch, heh?
And then we move on to “Born That Way.” Care to guess what this is about? Here’s one of the key stanzas:
No matter gay, straight, or bi,
Lesbian, transgendered life,
I’m on the right track, baby,
I was born to survive
No matter black, white or beige
Chola or orient made,
I’m on the right track, baby,
I was born this way.
Well, I guess we’re all biologically predetermined. And if that’s the case, then there can be no sin. How convenient is that?
We have time for one more song. “Just Dance” sounds innocent enough, but, again, let’s look at some lyrics:
Wish I could shut my playboy mouth.
How’d I turn my shirt inside out, inside out right?
Control your poison, babe.
“Roses have thorns,” they say.
And we’re all gettin’ hosed tonight.
Well, there’s a lot here. But, as the reader may have guessed, the message it one of excessive drinking and/or drug use to the extent of memory loss. It’s another depraved message provided by Lady Gaga with the imprimatur of the NFL.
Years ago, Charlton Heston, who had stock in Time Warner, attended a stockholders’ meeting. When it came time for investor comments, Heston took the podium and began to read the lyrics of songs performed by Time Warner “artists.” The words were so vulgar and so degrading that he was forced to stop. Of course, Heston’s purpose was to ask stockholders if they really wanted to financially support a company that disseminated such trash to the youth of America. Apparently, most did, for the Warner Music Group continues to make big money from the likes of Madonna and other similar entertainers.
To my Catholic friends who thought the halftime show was entertaining, and for others who agree, please look beneath the flashing lights, the smoke, and the pounding rhythm. If you do, instead of being entertained, you will smell the stench of moral turpitude. Being naive about it only adds to the problem.