Here’s the thing about the demolition derby: cars catch on
fire, cars get lodged on concrete blocks, cars smoke, cars are carried off on
forklifts. Also, even though it mostly appears to be every man for him self,
there are, in fact, teams of cars who gang up on other cars. Sometimes an axle
breaks or a giant chunk of bumper comes off and they halt the derby and clear
the debris. At some moments, certain observers in the grandstand feel the need
to stand up and yell, or just clap kind of hollow in his or hers seat. I’ve
found myself clapping, but I do not believe that I have yelled. Some young women who sit behind you may feel the need to say repeatedly, "Them Burgess Boys are bad ass. They're bad ass!" It is a
beautiful act of absurdity. If the demolition derby did not exist, an artist
would invent it.
The car races are different because it almost makes sense.
But, in the end, when you watch a mutilated car, pushed from the track by another
mutilated car, you are struck by the impotence of victory and the silliness of
winning. It is very close to being
as absurd as the demolition derby. If you have a seven year old son even he
will acknowledge the similarities.
They are both beautiful because they are ridiculous. They are
brilliant because they are dumb. I would hate to be smarter because I wouldn’t
understand the dumbness that makes them so beautiful.