Take a warm, tropical country known for its transgender hookers and beautiful beaches. Bombard it with propaganda and hype on TV, radio, the internet and the streets. Suspend its regular programs and replace them with a communal and quasi-religious experience. What do you get? A World Cup in Brazil. 

 

We can relate. We Thais love to celebrate. In fact, when the National Committee for Peace, Love and Order announced that Victory Monument would be flooded with sexily-dressed soldiers, singing generals and that the stage performances would then go on tour in the provinces to educate the peasants about peace, love and order, we got real excited. Will there be free booze? Is it part of the World Cup celebrations? Will we get bank holidays to attend? 

 

On the contrary, said the Generalissimo in Chief. The World Cup, an event that happens but once every four years (almost as regularly as Thailand’s coups), is no reason to lift the curfew in Bangkok. You are to watch it at home. Alone. With the sound turned all the way down. Now, we’ve only seen football matches on dodgy TVs above bars, blurry eyed, while hugging strangers. Is it even safe to watch a World Cup at home? What if the country you support loses? Where’s the psychological support?

 

One more thing: what are we going to tell our boss? It’s acceptable to roll out the same old stories that we’re too tired, too drunk or just too broke from gambling during major sporting events to be of any use at the office. Does this curfew mean we’re expected to remain productive during the next four weeks?

 

We get it. They want to be loved, yet they refuse to take any responsibility for past actions, they have the right to make up their own laws regardless of any constitution and have a rather iffy reputation when it comes to human rights abuses. (And that’s before we even get into their attitude towards women and allegations of corruption.) So we understand why our generals would be disgusted by the FIFA—a disgraceful institution, really.

 

But should we be made to pay the price, watching the World Cup with some dodgy bloke we met down the pub just because he happens to have the RS Sunbox? Well, we will if we must. We will silently protest the curfew in the dim glare of our TVs at 3am, through our erratic caffeine-induced behavior at work, and by sleeping through any educational plays we might be forced to attend.