This brings us to the World Cup. Soccer is another sport I follow only casually, but I nonetheless enjoy watching it when it's on. Except now, I don't. Tune into a FIFA game this summer, and you're bound to hear an incessant buzzing, like a beehive at an airport.3 Tournament promoters are touting it as an integral part of the South African soccer experience, even as TV broadcasters attempt to placate advertisers and viewers who signed on for soccer, not aural torture. Introducing the vuvuzela:
The horn that has melted both my eardrums and my tolerance for others' cultures.South African fans can't get enough of them. At the request of tournament organizers, they are not blown during official announcements or national anthems, but otherwise they drone ceaselessy until match's end, as though the stadium were a cicada-infested tree. Except cicadas aren't nearly as bad. Most reports have put the decibel output of the vuvuzela at 130 dB, which is louder than the engine of a motorcycle or a chainsaw and 10 dB above the human pain threshold.
And so the debate rages. Naysayers point out the health risks to being exposed to so much constant loud noise. They are also quick to note that their buzz makes it difficult for players on the pitch to communicate with each other, and that the horns being blown outside the stadium at night make it hard for players to get sleep in their hotel rooms. Vuvuzela boosters, on the other hand, claim that it is a local tradition; just as international fans would be expected to tolerate bawdy songs from the audience about the opposing players' illegitimate children4 if the Cup were held in England, we should humor the South Africans and just enjoy something that hurts both health and viewership while adding nothing to the game.
My opinion's clear on this, really. I'm all for banning them just because I'm a spiteful bastard who doesn't like how they sound, but it's nice to have health and obstruction of play arguments on my side, too. Critics of my position say a vuvuzela ban would be an attempt to "Europeanize" an African occasion. I guess I wasn't aware that things like long-term hearing damage were strictly a European concern.
As a final note apropos of nothing else, my friend Jude over at Omnomnom Books is having a contest to give away a copy of Dust, a novel about zombies having feelings or something like that. I get an extra point for mentioning it here, so go me. Try your best to win it yourself, dear reader, but expect that you'll have to pry it from my cold, undead hands.
-PK
And so the debate rages. Naysayers point out the health risks to being exposed to so much constant loud noise. They are also quick to note that their buzz makes it difficult for players on the pitch to communicate with each other, and that the horns being blown outside the stadium at night make it hard for players to get sleep in their hotel rooms. Vuvuzela boosters, on the other hand, claim that it is a local tradition; just as international fans would be expected to tolerate bawdy songs from the audience about the opposing players' illegitimate children4 if the Cup were held in England, we should humor the South Africans and just enjoy something that hurts both health and viewership while adding nothing to the game.
My opinion's clear on this, really. I'm all for banning them just because I'm a spiteful bastard who doesn't like how they sound, but it's nice to have health and obstruction of play arguments on my side, too. Critics of my position say a vuvuzela ban would be an attempt to "Europeanize" an African occasion. I guess I wasn't aware that things like long-term hearing damage were strictly a European concern.
As a final note apropos of nothing else, my friend Jude over at Omnomnom Books is having a contest to give away a copy of Dust, a novel about zombies having feelings or something like that. I get an extra point for mentioning it here, so go me. Try your best to win it yourself, dear reader, but expect that you'll have to pry it from my cold, undead hands.
-PK
UPDATE: It would appear my enemy has a Twitter feed. Thanks to Colin at Musings and Mayhem for alerting me.
1 Not as much anymore. The laughter can get to be too much.
2 Especially the nicknames for when fans all dress up in one color, such as the Calgary Flames' "C of Red" or the Cleveland Browns' "Giant Sloppy Bowel Movement."
3 That's on fire.
4 That's right, Genaro Gattuso of Italy. I'm onto you.
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