Nipples aren’t the only fallout plaguing network executives
after the Super Bowl’s halftime “Hootergate” scandal. The
controversy has ignited a media firestorm and the once-dormant
Federal Communications Commission emerged ready to rumble.
Repercussions were immediate. NBC yanked breast-exposing footage
from an ER surgery and ‘N Sync alum JC Chasez was excluded from
performing at the Pro Bowl halftime show. Even MTV, former bastion
of all things rebellious and defiant, exiled its controversial
videos to late-night audience dead zones.
However unfortunate, these setbacks are nominal when compared to
CBS’ Orwellian decision to air the 2004 Grammy Awards with a
five-minute tape delay.
With these five minutes, Helen Keller could function as an
effective censor, removing F-bombs and Soy Bombs alike from an
unsuspecting public. Teenage males eager to witness a starlet’s
dress lose its battle with gravity would have their collective
dreams torn asunder. Ideally, award shows will now focus on the
artists rather than superficial controversies.
Give me a break. The graybeard Grammys lost credibility a
generation ago by awarding Jethro Tull the 1988 Best Metal
Performance over a little-known band named Metallica. Eminem’s 2000
Marshall Mathers LP was deprived of Album of the Year honors
to placate ’70s rejects Steely Dan.
The Grammys certainly focus on artists–provided they’re
eligible for the senior-citizen discount at Bob Evans.
Desperate to rival the spectacle of MTV’s Video Music Awards,
Grammy went ghetto in 2004. Outkast (deservedly) won Album of the
Year for Speakerboxxx/The Love Below in the first rapper’s
delight since Lauryn Hill’s 1998 victory. Hip-hop acts garnered the
majority of nominations, but quantity did not mean quality in the
eyes of Recording Academy voters.
50 Cent provided the night’s most controversial moment, yet the
tape delay ensured that his antics were unseen by the television
audience. The rapper was outraged after being denied in da club of
Grammy winners and charged the stage when Evanescence was awarded
Best New Artist.
If aired uncensored, the clash between goths and gangstas would
have incensed firearm fans of all ethnic backgrounds and sparked
the first “East Coast-Trench Coat” rivalry.
These moments are the genuine incentive to watch awards
ceremonies. The actual winners are irrelevant to all but the most
hardcore viewers. We watch for the spectacle and the lurid appeal
of hell breaking loose on live TV.
NASA’s top astronomers couldn’t predict the appearance of Janet
Jackson’s areola borealis, but 40 million people saw it
nonetheless. Fifty years from now, I may forget my own name, but
I’ll certainly recall the titillating moments of Super Bowl
XXXVIII.
The Super Bowl can deliver a good show; the Grammys cannot.
Performances aside, the Grammys are the viewing equivalent of the
Bataan Death March.
