ConstantCommentary® Vol. VIII, No. 164, February 12, 2004

So Sue Me . . .

by Mike Jasper

Janet Jackson's energizer bunny tit
(... it keeps going, and going, and going.)

This year's Superbowl was one of the most closely contested battles in the 38 years of the game's existence -- great defense, exciting special teams, and fantastic second-half offense. The champion New England Patriots and surprisingly gutsy Carolina Panthers (read: losers) provided what should have been a long-remembered Superbowl.

The previous year's contest between the champion Tampa Bay Buccaneers and the losing Oakland Raiders was remembered throughout the next year for the Buc's total domination and the Raiders' complete ineptitude.

Ten days after this year's epic contest, no one outside of Boston can tell you anything about the game. All anyone can remember is that Justin Timberlake exposed Janet Jackson's right breast.

In an escalating climate of hype, we've been treated to images of Michael Jackson sleepovers, the slutification of Christina Aguilera, and the Brittney Spears spit-swap with aging diva Madonna. Janet felt she had to raise the bar a little to make an impression.

"Hmmm, I wonder if a deep soul kiss with Justin would be believable?" she might have pondered. Remembering that America was sickened by her brother's kiss with Elvis's spawn (because Michael is neither human nor heterosexual) Janet wisely discarded the tongue tango with Justin. And even though Justin has allegedly slept with Brittney, Christina, and Cameron Diaz, most of America believes that this boy-band popster is only marginally more masculine than Michael Jackson.

Janet's next thought might have been, "Okay, Michael failed in his public kiss, but all of America believes he has had sexual relations with little boys. What if I have sex with a little boy? No, not enough time. How about if I get a boy to feel me up and expose one of my breasts? Perfect. And while Justin isn't masculine enough for a believable kiss, he's a perfect fit in the-little-boy-who-gets-to-play-with-a-Jackson scenario. I hope people don't think it is too derivative, though. If they do, I'll just tell people it was meant as an homage."

I was watching the Superbowl on a little television in Deerfield Beach, Florida when the halftime festivities commenced. MTV -- aka More Tit Vision -- produced the half-time extravaganza, which featured Nelly grabbing his penis through his trouser fabric while singing, "It's getting hot in here," as well as obligatory outerwear shedding by a talented female dance troop, and Kid Rock wearing a ripped, tattered, and cut American flag as a poncho. Appetizer and first course. The main course was the "costume reveal" (Janet) or "costume malfunction" (Justin) that led to the exposing of Janet Jackson's right breast.

Now I have to be honest, the television was small, the exposure was brief, and the lighting was meant for stage, so I wasn't even sure I really saw what I thought I saw. "Did I just see tit?!"

It seemed too white to me. Perhaps Janet wore a tit-shaped prosthetic over her real tit, I thought. I just couldn't be sure. Why couldn't I be watching the show from my own house in California on my wide screen rear projection high definition television? Damn you fate! Damn you Gay Freddy!

I couldn't get a reality check, as the announcers assiduously refrained from any commentary regarding the half-time show. I wondered if anyone else saw what I thought I had seen. Was I crazy? I've always admired Janet's breasts in her music videos. I've often thought that I would like to get together with her for a hard fucking (not that she would want to get together with me, but it's my fantasy). Were my erotic thoughts affecting my view of "reality?" I just didn't know.

After the game, I watched the first installment of All Star Survivor. (Sidebar: Jasper called me the other day after watching Survivor for the first time to ask me if Sue Hawk looked as skanky when we met her in Reno as she does on TV. I assured him that while he was looking through 12 oz glasses, Hawk benefited from nice clothing, soap, shampoo, and make up -- she looks fine in "real" life.)

After Survivor (no Hawk tit, unfortunately) I scanned the local news and saw the reports about Janet's breast exposure. Damn you digitizers! In the next few days, I didn't see Janet's breast over 100 times. I did see fuzzy series of randomized digital blocks or a fuzzy diffused circle where her breast would have been.

While in Florida, I had no easy access to the Internet, so I continued to feel the void that comes from not enjoying a clear view of tit. A desire was growing into a need. I did hear about horror, shock, inappropriateness, and condemnation stemming from a bared breast on television show after television show.

What?!

Charge: Janet engaged in a marketing ploy.
Consider: The Superbowl itself is an incredibly successful marketing ploy by the NFL. Time will tell whether Janet is as successful with her marketing ploy.
Charge: Janet made a sexual object of herself at the Superbowl.
Consider: The NFL made sexual objects of women a long time ago when they created and marketed the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders for male American consumption. I want my son to grow up and be an Oakland Raider, since that's the highest aspiration a male can achieve. If I had a daughter, I would hope she would become an Oakland Raiderette, since that's the highest aspiration a female can achieve
Charge: The breast baring occurred on one of the most holy of American family-oriented television events.
Consider: The Superbowl is the cause of more illegal betting than any other single event in America.
Charge: Janet's breast is offensive.
Consider: Bullshit. Janet's breast is wonderful. It is a relief that not all of the Jackson family plastic surgery ends in horrible disfigurement. Janet even adorned her nipple with an amazing piece of artistic jewelry. If Justin had ripped off his own shirt and exposed both of his nipples, no one would have commented. As a hetero male, I find women's exposed breasts superior to men's exposed breasts. There is nothing inherently offensive about breasts.
Charge: "What about the children?"
Consider: I would prefer that my six-year-old son view Janet's tit than spend a night with Michael at Neverland Ranch. Or even a night at Justin's crib.

The most hypocritical aspect? Television folks feigning umbrage as they showed the digitized clips of the reveal over and over and over. I wasn't sure I had even seen tit, but by the time the sexually-repressed, ultra-conservative tit nazis were done (naw, they're not done yet) they made certain that I, my son, you, and your extended family knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that tit had flashed on the small screen -- for they flashed it over and over and over. This tit keeps going, and going, and going.

Critical review: Janet's tit looks nice, but it definitely needs support. The jewelry is incredible. Lovely, really. An amazing sunburst spread across her nipple, held in place by a fastening bar piercing. Where I once wondered what Janet's breast would look like, now I wonder about other possible body piercings -- Labia? Clit? Both?

Oh, Miss Jackson. I do declare.

SUBSCRIPTIONS: If you're on my subscriber list but haven't received an email in awhile (or ever) you got lost between the cracks. Hit the subscribe link and try again.

STANDARD DISCLAIMER: This column aims to be funny. If you can read anything else into it, you're on your own.

Link(s) Of The Week

Women At Ground Zero - Is heroine politcally correct?

Older Columns

Links

e-mail