CSotD: Are you ready for some futbol?
Skip to comments
The gag in today's "In the Bleachers" is that there are plenty of seats left, except for one low corner of the end zone cordoned off for people who don't want drunken boobs sitting behind them. And in front of them. And to either side of them.
Which brings us to this grim panel from Cartoon Movement:
This panel by Iranian cartoonist Payam Borumand is linked at Cartoon Movement to a story in the Guardian that, in turn, links to a report from Amnesty International about the exploitation of migrant workers as Qatar prepares to host the 2022 World Cup.
I remember when part of being young and mobile involved not vacationing in idyllic spots with repressive governments, and when magazines occasionally came under fire for promoting Greece and similar cheap, sunny, dictatorial getaways. I think they have to step a lot farther over the line to get that kind of pushback these days.
I recall in particular one issue that was rhapsodic over Romania and made us think, gee, that's sounds nice. Then we looked into it a little more. Egad.
(BTW, their tourism industry does appear to have found a way to rebound.)
It's easier these days to do a few quick clicks and find this stuff out, but I don't think it's made a dent in the ranks of the heartless sensualists who don't seem to give a damn what happens to the peasants as long as the drinks are included in the package.
Here's what I mean: I was doing an interview about six years ago with a fellow who had just returned from climbing Kilamanjaro, which is a "thing" these days if you have a lot of money and a bottomless bucket list.
"Bucket lists" also being a "thing" these days.
Anyway, I wanted to include something about the socially positive side of this egregious spending spree (I had been assigned the story, you'll understand) and so prompted him with a comment about how ecotourism was improving local economies in the Third World.
He agreed and told me about how eager local people were to be chosen as porters, even those who didn't actually have the right clothing and gear for Kilamanjaro's snowy summit, and that a couple of them had died on the trek and so anyway and on he went.
I wanted to say, "Wait, wait … go back a minute" but realized it was pointless. He might as well have been telling me that they'd run out of marshmallows for the hot chocolate for all that this well-fed, well-dressed Bwana-For-A-Day paused over the irrelevant anecdote.
The connection to today's "In the Bleachers" is the extent to which nations will whore themselves, their values and their people (or, in the Gulf, their "independent contractors") out for FIFA, the Olympics and other profitable spectacles.
Budweiser is a major sponsor of the World Cup, and one of the demands for nations applying to host the Cup is that they allow the King of Beers to be served in the stadium.
In America, this would not be an issue, because not only do many Americans still think Budweiser is what beer should taste like, but American stadiums make a lot of money by letting drunken boobs ruin the games for other fans. Their solution is to limit sales towards the end of the game, under the apparent delusion that fans will then have sobered up enough to drive home.
However, in several other countries, the spectre of not just drunken hooligans but drunken boobs in general is such that they have laws banning the sale of alcoholic beverages in sporting venues. FIFA has demanded that host countries change these laws — even in Muslim Qatar — to accomodate the need for the World Cup to please a major sponsor and lubricate its fans.
Granted, Qatar is not quite Yemen or Iran or Saudi Arabia, but, come on, man.
Overheard in 2022:
"Oh, dear, Thurston! That fellow has passed out from too much Budweiser!"
"No, no, Lovey, it's just another dead migrant worker."
"Thank goodness! I was afraid he'd get up and vomit on us!"
And speaking of World Cup hosts
I mentioned to Rico Schacherl in a Facebook message the other day that things in South Africa have become so internally convoluted that I haven't been able to feature Madame & Eve here in a very long time.
I see enough Facebook postings from down there that I'm aware of the systemic corruption plaguing the country, but even I don't know its convoluted details well enough to get all the jokes that have seized upon it.
It seems, in retrospect, that the Zuma government straightened up for the World Cup period, somewhat like a drunk walking stiffly past a policeman on the sidewalk before falling on his face as soon as he's round the corner.
In recent years, the level of kleptocracy has skyrocketed, including a mansion that (for security reasons!) nobody was allowed to see, and the recent imposition of e-tolls, in which license plates are automatically scanned and drivers billed. Which might be less onerous if it weren't fairly clear where and how government funds were being spent.
And I think that's enough to get you through this weekend's comic, which I might have posted for the fifth panel alone, but which I do think is wonderfully inventive start to end. Incidentally, "takkie" is South African slang for running shoes, though I think her implication is clear.
One frustrating thing I've found with my SA Facebook friends that, as soon as a conversation begins to become lively, they lapse into Afrikaans, but one word I do know in Afrikaans is "kak," which, alas, the Madame & Eve website has been for a very long time. You can follow the strip on its page at Facebook.
And finally:
This concludes our annual celebration of Thanksgiving. We now return you to your regularly scheduled neuroses.
Comments
Comments are closed.