I loved Madonna's Superbowl Half-Time show. Completely and utterly. I mean, when the camera panned the gladiator-like "Romans" pulling her barge (that was NOT a euphemism, people!), I was a goner.
Madonna as Cleo? Brilliant!
Thankfully hubs and the boy were in the kitchen rummaging for more food when the show started, so they did not witness me standing up in awe. And when the golden fans parted (like the silver oars Plutarch described!) and there stood her Madgesty in an Egyptian-inspired crown and a golden cloak I actually cooo-ed.
Forget the mish-mash of images and the overwrought, ridiculous costumes. Ignore the dated 1990 techno-beat and the men in golden booties. What really mattered was that Madonna went for it. And she captured that sense of awe, slightly-disgusted disbelief, and head-shaking wonderment that ridiculous excess elicits in us mere mortals.
Love her or hate her, there is an unabashed fierceness in Madonna that I like to think the ancient queen also had in abundance.
The only thing that was missing? A giant snake. For Isis's sake, where was the snake?
The rest of the game was very frustrating for my die-hard Pats-fan-boys but still. As a result of Madge's unrepentant eye-fest, I spent the rest of the evening, warbling, "Don't just stand there. Let's get to it. Strike a pose, there's nothing to it!"
You go, your Madgesty.