Yesterday was the Super Bowl between the Colts and the Saints. I was invited to watch the game at a friend's house, and I took a book and ever so often looked up from my page and gave an enthusiastic shout. Finally I took myself to a different room to read in comparative silence (Their screams and expostulations were remarkably clear through a floor and two walls). I marvel at how much people enjoy sports, particularly football. It's extraordinary, really, to think that almost all of America is gathering to watch a small group of people toss around a leather ball. That a minor twist of the ball as it soars in the air could incite such passionate shrieks, induce a cataract of flying spittle, result in dangerous paroxysms of mania. In a thousand years, entire worlds will tune in for the Galaxy Bowl as two final worlds come together for the prize. I wonder what the stakes will be, what the prize will entail. The one thing we can know for certain about it: there will be shrieks, spittle, and paroxysms of mania.