I attended the National Western Stock Show last night here in Denver - whether city slicker or country bumpkin, everyone seems to attend the event at least once over the course of its two week run. It's a pretty good time, especially the first few days when the PBR (no, not the beer) is taking place. Watching these crazy bastards try to hang on to a two-ton animal with its nuts in a sling for 8 seconds is great entertainment (keep the PETA complaints to yourself). But what was really fascinating was the "invocation." Come see for yourself on the filp.
After much pomp and circumstance, complete with fireworks, fire, and a laser show, the Rodeo announcer embarked on the first part of what would be 10 very weird, scary minutes. First, the announcer introduced a seargent from the Army who had served three tours in Iraq. This cat was one tough motherfucker. Long story short, during the middle of his third tour, he was shot in the head (the round entered behind his left ear and exited his right eye) while patrolling in Iraq. He didn't die or go unconscious, instead he kept fighting. Then, after more than a year of surgery and rehab, he went back to finish his tour. Crazy, I know, but I admire his dedication. So, we worshipped this man.
Then, the announcer (obviously working from a script) started to really ramp the rhetoric up. He spoke of how this soldier's sacrifice and all those like him help defend our freedom and liberty and our way of life. Now, I'm thinking when did Iraq ever become a threat to our libery, freedom, or way of life? The answer is never, but he was rolling. Well, this was just the beginning of the scary, nationalist atmosphere.
Next came the "invocation." I wish I had an audio tape or transcript of the thing because it was just too bizarre for words. Basically, this is the greatest country ever, god will protect the bull riders, the soldiers, and our Leaders, and we're thankful that this is the greatest country ever and it can do no wrong.
The most fascinating part of the invocation - the twist - was when the announcer specifically asked the lord to guide President Bush. Normally, particularly considering the audience, I would expect to hear a cacophony of cheers (yes, it seemed appropriate to cheer during the invocation). But here, there was but a smattering of polite applause. No cheers, no "woo-hoo!", no "yeee-haw!" Has Bush fucked things up so bad that he garners little respect from even the rodeo crowd? Blessed be the day!
Lest one think that the crowd was packed with liberals, one bull rider mounted as the announcers told of his winnings last year in one tournament - $325,000. Then the announcers asked the audience to guess how much he had to pay in taxes on his winnings. The answer $105,000, to which the audience riotously booed. But, again, a twist - the rodeo clown (equipped with a mic) retorted - yeah but that money helps to pay for the plows (we've had quite a bit of snow lately) and the crowd cheered.
So, it was a night of scary, almost Nazi-like nationalism where we hero-worshipped and praised god for everything. But it was also a night of odd, anticdotal evidence that Bush truly has lost everyone but his wife and his dog and that taxes maybe aren't the big boogeyman anymore.