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Dreams I’ll Send You | Essay 9
A birthday month practice
For the month of February 2025, I’ve decided to publish a micro essay once a day. I described the why and what here.
I don’t watch the Super Bowl. I don’t know much about football. The NFL is an institution that hasn’t tried to make its moral arc bend toward justice, so I have little interest in learning about the sport, and the event too often perpetuates throwback aspects of militant Americana. But the Super Bowl is a cultural event — one of the few monoculture moments we have left, apparently— so the lead-up will seep through all your cultural filters if you happen to be in this country.
This year I heard Taylor Swift’s current boyfriend was playing on one of the teams — (did he lose?) — and that Kendrick Lamar was playing the half-time show. I do watch the half-time show, and that got my attention. Prince shredding his guitar in the Miami rainstorm will always be the gold standard of half-time performances, but tonight Lamar, with his West Coast hip-hop roots, came in close.
In front of 45/47 and a crowd of diehard football fans, Lamar opened his set saying, “The revolution ‘bout to be televised. You picked the right time but the wrong guy.” Listen to the fire in that.
And he took off from there, wearing bootcuts while blending the political with mischievous…
