The last 20 minutes
This was followed by the last 20 minutes of the Super Bowl, the best 20 minutes of any football game — almost as good as the last five minutes on the clock, IMHO. Plenty of time for commercials. Are they even trying anymore? After that last ballerina-like touchdown and the hopecrushing fumble, I surfed through the rest of the wasteland.
Apparently, Americans now have the attention span of three-year-olds. Sunday evening television on February 1, 2009, was so bad I actually thought for a moment it was deliberate ... heh heh ... like psyops, you know, a kind of topical anaesthetic sloshed onto the collective American brainpan to dull wits, deaden critical thought, and prevent awakefulness.
Then I pondered (weak and weary) who'd do something like that? A few ideas crept unbidden into mind. Fortunately, we have paranoia to throw a wrench into that dreary cognitive wheel of dawning realizations. Such a convenient diagnosis, that paranoia stuff. You gotta be crazy to be paranoid. There's gotta be a rational explanation.