BRAZIL - The End ...

So it's all over and the Germans have won.Well, well, well. They just can't help themselves, can they? When will the world learn that sport is just sport and doesn't mean anything else? Meanwhile, it remains a perfectly useful vehicle for letting off nationalist steam in the least destructive way. The next couple of projects the Illuminati should get involved in are:
a) Getting the Germans to play Rugby,
and
b) Introducing middle-class football to the Middle East.
The first is pretty self-explanatory. Rugby is the ideal sport for Germany to turn its attention to next.  Its benefits are two-fold, namely that it would teach the Germans how to be real men (as opposed to mere footballers) and it would give the rest of us a good decade of laughs while they struggled to learn the rules. The fact that they would regularly get roughed up by countries like New Zealand, South Africa, France and Italy - oh, yes, and England - all of which enjoy a good ruck, would add to the merriment.
Option (b) above involves football matches in places where Arabic is spoken. Supporters would be expected to behave with polite decorum and bring along a few women.  This involves serenity and not trying to kill anyone or fire guns into the air or each other. The advantages are manifold. How nice it would be to see public assemblies in the region marked by sang froid, good order and cool-headed propriety. And no need to ban alcohol either.
I could go on - mainly about the appearance of FIFA big cheese, Septic Bladder, or the unprecedented number of bumbling referees who got in the way of play in this tournament, or the irritating over-use of Oh-look!-I-can-see-myself-on-the-Big-Screen cut-aways, but what would be the point?
However, it must be remarked upon, Noble Readers, that the Grand Illuminati of the Vatican had obviously paid the directors of Brazil TV - those numpties responsible for the coverage - a few million escudos (or whatever it is they pay in) to intercut shots of the Concrete Jesus holding the setting sun in His outstretched arms and calmly blessing the giant toilet seat of the Maracana Stadium. The message here, only understandable by Roman Catholics, is: Jesus loves you even if he did let the wicked Hun thrash you a into a helpless foaming heap.
I have penned a short elegaic poem to mark the passing  of naive Brazilian self-confidence:
World Cup, Brazil,Germany seven, football nil.
So that's it for Bra(don't mention football)zil 2014. I do hope you enjoyed it, because they won't be having another one there for a couple of centuries.

Oh, and, while I'm about it: congratulations to Germany, I suppose. Grrrrr.