Bread and Circus...

Back in the days of Rome and Greece rule, the elite found a way to keep the lower folk from finding a reason to revolt. Enter the legendary “Bread and Circus” policy. Long story short, as long as we feed ‘em and give ‘em a show, they have no reason to complain. And they didn’t.

While sitting alone in the much applauded caf today I was gazing at the TV while chewing my cud. It was a hockey game. It wasn’t until the game ended that I realized it was the Stanley Cup. Having been privileged to have seen and touched the cup, you’d think I’d care more about it. It was no hockey match at all, it was a blood bath. It was “Gladiators on Ice”. The crowd was wild with excitement more so during fights than goals.

Lightning Celebrates Victory (of the fight)

The hockey players themselves were all Neanderthals. Each and every one of them had ample amounts of unsightly facial hair. Now, I had a full beard, but at least I kept it trimmed. These guys were all scraggly looking and I swear I could detect mullets under the helmets. One St. Louis player wanted to get even with a Tampa Bay player for being superior, so he skates up to him and runs his stick right across the middle section of the guy, breaking it in two. His punishment? Sat in a box for a few minutes. At the end of the game the loosing Flames started an on-ice riot with the Lightning. They were all animals and the unwashed masses couldn’t be any more elated.

Then it hit me; I was eating my bread and enjoying the circus – and neither was that great. On the way out of the much applauded caf I decided to “moo” as I shuffled out with the rest of the herd…