By PAUL GULLY

Managing Editor

I recently went to a Pistons game in hopes of getting some good, clean entertainment. 

I mean, what’s better than some solid, exciting competition?

However, what I found at the Palace was appalling. 

The injustices were rampant and the immorality was blatant.

No longer is a basketball game a wholesome event which the entire family can enjoy. 

It has been robbed of its dignity and integrity, so much so that major league baseball casts a shameful eye upon it.

Had basketball existed in its current state in 1906, the meatpacking industry would have taken a backseat to it, and would have, no doubt, been the focus of Upton Sinclair’s “The Jungle.”

Now, you may being wondering what I’m talking about.

Many of you probably attend numerous games throughout the year and never notice any egregious exploitation. 

Well, that’s because you’ve been socially conditioned.

The immorality and injustices range far. 

Liberals, conservatives, men, women, blacks, whites, religious and atheist; the travesties should offend all.

The first evidence of moral bankruptcy was none other than the T-shirt giveaway. Such a joyous event, right?

Yes, not until you look for the social injustice in it. While the Pistons Palace Patrol was getting the fans riled up, shooting T-shirts into the stands, I noticed a discrepancy. The slinging devices that shot the T-shirts into the stands only had enough power to reach into the lower level of the stadium. 

The fans sitting in the upper level were merely left to reach out and grasp at empty dreams, while the T-shirts landed a good 100 feet away.

Where is the social uproar? 

Who decided that those sitting court-side should be the only ones worthy enough for a shot at a sweatshop-made give away?

This is just one example of the rich feeding the rich and forgetting about the poor.  

When did Kenneth Lay’s ghost buy the Pistons?

The next atrocity I bore witness to took place while an opposing player was shooting free throws.

While he was foc

using in on kn

ocking down the free-throw, the fans seated behind his target basket did something that down right shocked me.

 While the player was in the process of shooting, fans began wildly waving blue and red phallic-shaped balloons to try and distract him! I was appalled! Yet, it seemed as if I was the only one who took issue.

What have we come to? 

These men on the visiting team were merely trying to do their jobs. 

Why subject them to such vagrancies? Is this what we have come to as a society? Trying to distract a hard-working man from doing his job, degrading him by waving a phallus at him?

Imagine if this behavior was permitted while others were attempting to complete their work. 

Would you find it acceptable to waive a kielbasa in the face of a cop writing you a ticket? 

Would you bust out a banana during a boring history lecture?

Waving a phallic-shaped balloon at these players? Come on! Lord knows how John Amaechi felt when he was hacked and knew he going to the line for two.

 Moving on. The next episode in which I was disgusted, and frankly so should anyone else who claims to have morals, took place during a time-out. 

 While both teams were talking things over on the benches, some entertainment was sent onto the court for those in attendance.

 And let me tell you, the next two events that I witnessed, quite honestly, made me feel sick. 

 First to take the court was the Spare Tires, a group of about 15 very large men, dressed in drag. If the sight of crossdressing obese men wasn’t enough, the Spare Tires began dancing. If that weren’t enough, the Limbaugh-sized men began removing their clothes! 

They threw off their wigs and proceeded to remove their shirts, exposing their oversized guts, and moobs (man-boobs, for those of you who don’t know). 

I closed my eyes in disgust. However, others around my cheered the men on, even going so far as to whistle and clap for them.

What kind of examples are we setting for our youths? 

That cross-dressing, obesity and exhibitionism should be celebrated and revered?

Will our next American hero be Dame Edna? (Seriously, look up a picture.)

I’ll skip over the half-naked women, holding pom-poms, who gyrated their bodies and performed a dance that they clearly learned performing at high-end gentlemen’s bars.

The final atrocity that I was forced to sit through was, by far, the most disturbing. 

Phalluses, nudists and cross-dressers don’t compare.

The culprit: The Voice, which is projected over a loudspeaker throughout the arena.

There is blind obedience of The Voic

e.

“Make some noise,” said The Voice. Thousands of people began screaming. 

“Clap your hands,” it demanded. Hands were clapped.

“Deeetroit basketball,” The Voice proclaimed. The Pistons got the ball.

We are walking down a dangerous path. Why listen to The Voice? What authority does it have? The Voice has never won a fraudulent election.

And people wonder why no one questioned the current administration when they claimed there were WMDs in Iraq. 

It is time to fight back! Pull back the curtain, à la “The Wizard of Oz.”

From now on, if I’m looking for some good, clean, exciting entertainment, I’ll turn on some WWE wrestling.