Let me be the first to cast some, at least here... So the Rolling Stones are going to play at halftime at the next Super Bowl.
Obviously, the Super Bowl entertainment decisionmakers keep searching for new lows. Rolling Stones? Does anyone even care? Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz... This choice was truly Panic in Detroit (sorry, D.B.).
In a way, the decisionmakers are quite limited. They are tasked with the job of bringing in someone for spectacle, for pizzazz, for grab. And no more of those bare tits, either. Well, Jagger can flash, and maybe he should have Justin Timberlake run on stage and rip off his spandex top just for the pathetic "humor". But still, the Super Bowl folks are quite limited - talent and performance are not important, just name and draw, regardless of how many decades past relevance that name and draw are. Hell, if the Estate would allow it, the Committee would drag the coffins of Elvis and Sinatra onstage and let starlets rake their fingers through their dusty contents all the while having the Vienna Boys Choir perform Blue Suede Shoes and My Way on kazoos.
Because that, my friends, would draw eyeballs for halftime. And so, I think we should all email the Super Bowl Entertainment Committee, and request Dead Entertainers Interpreted by Eunuchs. Because it really can't get much more boring than The Rolling Stones.