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November 23, 2003
Everyone is talking about the Rugby World Cup. But they never mention sexuality when they spin their hype about "the game played in heaven." Not even the gal who writes Dirty Whore Diary.
I saw the World Cup as another media spectacle in the metropolis. A bit like the Melbourne Cup.
This is what I imagined in the English team party afterwards:

I wanted Tonga or Samoa to win. But it was not to be.
The ad-man's "game played in heaven" refers to the sacral and its intensities has religious connotations of mystical ecstasy. I see Rugby as a sexual ritual based around lots of rules and sexual prohibitions. The game is the foreplay. Then the celebration:
Does not the celebration transgress the prohibition of the erotic during the game that contains the sexual anxiety and fear?
Does not the dizzy excess of winning hint at ecstasy?
Of course, I'm reading it through the eyes of Bataille.
Then we have the party afterwards with its touch of sacrifice.

How else can you can make sense of all the media hype about the "game plasyed" in heaven.
Flesh and sexuality is all around us in the urban mediascape. Why should sport be exempt?
Not for the French though:

But then Bataille was one of their countrymen.
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As Roy & HG say, its all about not just any old cream.