That pretty much sums of the movie, “The Wolf of Wall Street”. A whole lot of the same kind of skinny blond woman naked and stoned fat guys paying to fuck them – but also a bunch of comic scenes that are really funny. I don’t feel any need to get into the meaning of it all – everybody wants to get rich so they can live like that – because I am, after all, a sort of Amish Buddhist (inside reference to the film).
One consequence of watching that romp was a night-long vivid dream, one of those dreams that keeps telling you how important it is while you’re dreaming it. I was convinced that this dream contained a really good idea for a story, but now that I’m awake, not so much.
Imagine (if you will) a Virtual Football League, one that is played out by computers but not with computer-generated characters but real people. Real people, but not football players. It’s like fantasy football league a la dungeons and dragons. The rules are more like Arena Football than NFL. There are fewer players on a team, a shorter field, and more scoring. The players – who might be your neighbors – have to keep in shape, workout, practice, and be ready. They are continually monitored by the kind of wearable fitness equipment that’s become so popular lately (Jawbone Up, FitBit, Nike Fuel Band), and their physical stats and condition go into the formula used to simulate their play in the virtual games.
The players don’t even know each other in the real world, because they live all over the place and don’t come together for any reason (I suppose they could, but in the dream they didn’t). What makes the Virtual Football League a viral phenemon are two additional elements – cheerleaders, and gambling. The cheerleaders are also real people who have to work out and stay in shape and perform routines, and they are crowd-source-judged (using those ubiquitous fucking star-rating systems!).
The gambling is where the real intensity comes in. Gamblers are not only playing the system – the software the runs the virtual games – but on the players as well (again, real people). As you can imagine, there are pressures on the players and not-so-subtle threats since a whole lot of money is riding on their physical fitness. Stick to your workout routine or maybe some wise guy is going to break your legs!
The players are all into it – bodybuilder-roid-types, and it’s a whole lifestyle thing. There are magazines and sports TV shows about them. They become star athletes without actually playing any games at all. The software puts together the players into teams and pits them against other teams in a sophisticated computer-game experience that enthralls millions of fans every week. There is no drawn-out season, playoffs, or championships per se, but every weekend is a tournament itself.
Tournament weekends are like popular movie lifecycles these days. A month or so ago, The Lego Movie was THE movie to see. Everyone in America when to see it on the first two weekends. We went on the third weekend, and were two of the four people in the entire theater. Everyone else had seen it already! By the fourth weekend it was gone, and this was considered a HUGE success!!! Tournament weekends are the same. There are a certain number of teams and it’s win and move on, like March Madness in NCAA basketball. The teams are ranked, seeded, bet on, and run through simulated games until there’s a winner, and that winner is a big deal, headlines and all for a week. Then the teams are shuffled. Some are discarded and abandoned while new ones are formed. Certain teams might be kept together for a few weeks, until they are no longer popular. Everything gets old so quickly!
There is tremendous competition among fitness fanatics to be chosen for the league (players and cheerleaders both). Like American Idol, the competition shows are a big draw on their own.
Someone could write a perfectly bland, cliche-ridden, action-packed novel out of this shit and make a lot of money.
It’s just my box office smash dream of the week. By tomorrow it won’t be playing anywhere in my head.