Colin Kaepernick, the NFL quarterback who sparked a player protest movement by taking a knee for social justice during the national anthem, has just signed on as the centrepiece of an advertising campaign with Nike that will last until 2028.

I have mixed feelings about this.

It might be inevitable, but I always find it distressing when activism is transformed into product. A recent and particularly ham-handed attempt at this occurred when Pepsi used Kendall Jenner as an instrument to co-opt the symbolism of the Black Lives Matter movement in an effort to sell soft drinks.

The ad was a failure in just about every way, but it was particularly stupefying to watch one of the most privileged people on the planet try to show us that drinking Pepsi was actually an act of resistance, and that protest itself was more like going to a really sexy block party than say, having a fire hose turned on you.

No matter, Colin Kaepernick stands on different ground, and everything I have read about him suggests he’s a good and sincere man, one who has quite clearly been denied an opportunity to work because of the way he has been expressing his political beliefs. There are rational, if unappealing, arguments on both side of this issue, but his activism, and the price he’s paid to for it, and the money he has donated to it, seem real enough. So real, in fact, that although he hasn’t actually played football for over 2 years, his jersey is still amongst the top sellers.

Nike, who not long before they signed Kaepernick, extended their deal with the NFL to supply them with uniforms and equipment for the next eight years– at a price in excess of a billion dollars– saw an opportunity to have their cake and eat it, too. The NFL is a monolith, a powerful institution that is comprised of almost 70% black players, players who are almost certain to suffer lasting and severe brain injury as a result of their jobs.

It’s a gladiatorial spectacle that has always exploited it’s workers for the benefit of gamblers and billionaires, and as wonderful as the game might be, the league that governs it is really kind of evil, and in spite of Nike’s deep and longstanding partnership with the NFL, they want to be seen as a white hat corporation. When we see that swoosh, we’re  supposed to think of commitment and excellence and fighting against the odds. We’re supposed to think of character.

Nike doesn’t want us to think about how they enable and profit off a violent and dangerous sport that cares little for the combatants,  so they hire the iconoclastic Kaepernick to sell shoes to us, thus “seizing control of the narrative.” Nike now pays Kaeprnick for his activism. In the old days, people would say they bought him. And so, with Kaepernick as the face of Nike’s campaign, we are to believe that they are the Rebel Alliance and not the Death Star.

We are to believe that Nike is about civil rights, not sweat shops.

Anyway, I don’t begrudge Kaepernick a single thing. I like his protest and I like him, and I hope that the fortune he has now earned makes him happy, and gives him an opportunity to further his activism and do whatever the hell he wants. He has earned that. Just don’t believe that Nike “has seen the light.” No, they’re just presenting the face they think we want to see, while keeping their own concealed.

If Nike were a politician, it would be Rob Ford.

He just does it.

If you’re one of his constituents and you need something resolved, you should just drop Rob an email, because he’s a man who will take the bull by the horns and go to the matt for the ordinary Joe.

What follows is a recent correspondence between a citizen and the Mayor:

From: Stephen Anderson
Sent: Wednesday, October 10, 2012 02:16
To: Robfootball@toronto.ca
Subject: Unacceptable and unprofessional behaviour by a Royal Taxi driver (Plate 1736)

This morning, at approximately 1:30 am, a Royal Taxi (Toronto Taxi plate number 1736) picked me up on Front Street. The cab displayed a sticker indicating that they accept Interac payment. The ride was uneventful. At my destination, St. Clair West and Bathurst, the driver claimed his payment machine was “not working” and refused to shut off the meter while driving me to an ATM to pay him, which incurred me additional fees since the ATM was not my home bank.

This has been a repeating problem with many taxi drivers lately, and it is unacceptable. I would like you to look into this please. The driver should have informed me at the time of pickup that he did not have a working payment machine and let me decide whether to board his vehicle.

Thanks,

Stephen Anderson

Dear Steve-O:

Let me tell you, this sort of crap really gets under my skin.

Dude LIED to you!

Me and a couple of my staff-buddies have spent the better part of the day tracking this crook down and his name is something like Makebed, and he’s one of those guys who isn’t really a Canadian. I called him on the phone but I guess I got one of his wives. She was all, “ No speakie, no speakie!!” so I just yelled at her for ten minutes, making sure she knew it was “Mayor Goddamn Ford bringing the hammer!” It’s an intimidation thing I learned playing high school football. If you’re mixed-up with your words but you still want to be understood, you just fucking yell. Honestly S-dawg, it’s helped get me where I am today.

I’m going to guess that if you yelled at Makebed then this whole problem would have gone away, but maybe you’re small or gay or something, and so you’ve done the right thing by bringing the problem straight to the top, to the Big Dog, Rob Ford.

Anyway, I’ve got my staff working on deporting the guy from the city. I don’t want criminals driving cars in my town. If you think you can come into this city and rip off real Canadians, well, you got another thing coming, and Makebed, taxi plate number 1736, is going to get an awful lot of special attention from the city, if you know what I mean. (Just got back from fact finding trip to Chicago and learned a lot about stuff like this)

Anyhow, it’s nearly 8:00, so I’m finishing up and heading out for some beers and shots– if you want to join me and the boys( NO HOMO!) we’ll be upstairs at the Tilted Kilt on The Esplanade. They got the hottest waitresses in town. Boobs everywhere, it’s a Breastaurant, bro, and if they know you, they’ll charge you the regular price for the Super Sporran sized portions.

Ready, set, hut!

Rob Ford

PS: I’ll teach you how to yell. No charge, buddy, no charge– I work for you!