The Relief Valve, by Eric Peters

Sports allow people to blow off anger that would be better blown off, or better yet, expressed towards the correct target—the government. That’s one reason governments encourage sports. From Eric Peters on a guest post at theburningplatform.com:

Strong passions can erupt in unpredictable ways.

The government understands this – and desires that strong passions be diverted in a harmless – to the government – way.

Enter the cultivated, culturally and socially enforced obsession with organized, mass spectacle sports.

Fuuhhhhhtttttball especially but also the others.

These games – a new one to keep people busy almost every day, year-round – are not so much “bread and circuses,” as they are often called. They are the vivification of the fictional Two Minutes’ Hate in Orwell’s 1984. A means by which the passions – the frustrations and anger of men in particular – are diverted and dissipated.

In order that they aren’t directed at anything important.

Such as the ever-increasing control exercised over men by the state.

In red giant stage America, the average man has little meaningful control over his life. He does as he’s told – from driving the speed limit to paying “his” taxes. In the land of individuality, collectivism and conformity is the rule.

He must Submit and Obey. He must never raise his voice to question authority.

This stifling of independent action, punishment of deviation from any official orthodoxy and relentless suppression of independent judgment and self-reliance… this systematic thwarting of a normal man’s inclination to be a man. . . well, the pressure builds.

The movie, Falling Down, captured this brilliantly. Unfortunately for Michael Douglas’ character, he wasn’t interested in “the game.”

To continue reading: The Relief Valve

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2 responses to “The Relief Valve, by Eric Peters

  1. True about the gov being extremely intrusive and oppressive regarding the hard working middle class men who made this country great, but I will not lend any credence whatsoever to tatted up, dreadlocked, barely literate millionaire crybabies and I will certainly not support their existence, nor that of their handlers, by watching or supporting them in any way. If I need to escape from reality for a while, instead of drinking beer, eating pizza, and yelling at the TV while watching the aforementioned feral humanoids, I’ll go to the range and unload a few mags, or do a little cardio, or lift some weights, or dang, spend some time with the wife and kids.

    Like

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