Did you hear? New Orleans is hosting the Super Bowl this year! What a time to live in Crescent City!

Nothing says “welcome to our city” quite like the Gestapo-esque  sweeping of homeless people into “temporary housing camps.” Our state has decided that the best way to address homelessness isn’t by, you know, offering them homes but by hiding it. We’re only spending $16 million on the 200 homeless people for three months, all to keep them away from the Superdome and tourist activity.

But hey, who cares about civil liberties or addressing systemic issues when we’re hosting the Super Bowl?

Just weeks ago, a horrific terror attack on New Year’s Night left the city reeling, exposing cracks in law enforcement organizations and emergency preparedness. We should cut our city leaders some slack, though. After all, how can we put up safety barriers around heavily congested areas if the police chief just doesn’t know they exist?

And anyway, why worry about such trivial matters when the NFL comes marchin’ in? I mean, sure, we have some work to do to make NOLA citizens feel safe in their own neighborhoods, but do you know how much money the Super Bowl will bring the city? (Actually [pushes up glasses], the economic impact of these events is pretty minimal, with cities like ours typically seeing just $150 million. But hey, it sounds impressive, right? Compared to Mardi Gras’s $900 million… or $2.64 earned for every $1 spent, not really.)

Then there’s the home insurance crisis—a real treat for the dwindling New Orleanians who are still proud to call the city home. Insurers are fleeing the state faster than young professionals looking for jobs. Combine that with the President threatening to do away with FEMA, and you’ve got a recipe for complete economic collapse.

But come on, would you really want to live somewhere else when there’s a slight chance you might spot Taylor Swift sipping a hurricane on Bourbon Street?

Oh, and did I mention corruption? Our state government is practically a sitcom at this point. One written by Kafka, featuring surreal plotlines like bribing the mayor with Saints tickets (who needs money when dem boyz are playin’!) and mysteriously disappearing public funds. Finish building that road the city paved, destroyed, repaved, and destroyed again? Better to send that money to a City Councilperson’s cousin—sorry, I mean “legitimate contracting business”— to tear up and not replace more roads.

But really, should we be cynical about this when the Super Bowl fills the French Quarter with such lovely people as Eagles fans? Known for their “spirited support,” this fan group definitely knows how to make a scene. But who has time to worry about rowdy fans and potential mayhem when Super Bowl weekend is about to bring in a flood of revenue (allegedly)?

Sure, there may be a few “minor” incidents—like entire neighborhoods wondering if their cars will survive the celebratory or mourning chaos—but hey, that’s the price of passion for your sports team!

(Yes, I’m skipping the Chiefs because my in-laws are fans. I’ll avoid talking about the team’s very friendly calls [or no calls] from the refs. Don’t want to ruffle any family feathers.)

New Orleans and Louisiana might be drowning—literally, economically, and morally. But don’t let that distract you from the shiny Super Bowl. Who needs functioning infrastructure or a sustainable future when SZA’s joining Kendrick Lamar for one epic halftime show!

And if the Super Bowl doesn’t work, at least we have the Ten Commandments posted in our classrooms. That’ll save our state!