Screw You, I Love the Olympics

You know what I love? The damn Olympics. I've set my magic cable box to record every instance of Hotlympics on NBC. All the way from the Far East! I'm going to an opening ceremonies party tonight. I've boned the Hamm brothers many, many times. OK, that last part's not true. It was Michael Phelps. (Zingo!) A lot of people are cluck clucking about the games this year, mainly because they're taking place in the capital city of a land that has a questionable track record when it comes to not aiding genocide. Also, people are racist. There, I said it. But really, political horrors aside, what's not to be excited about?

I really do go in for that universal sentiment, the feeling that we are all one and the same-all of us denizens of this wacky blue marble. You know how I learned about geography? The Olympics. (Yay Boston public schools!) The summer games especially, which seem to host at least one someone from nearly every darn country imaginable. I mean who's ever heard of "Korea"??? If you say so, IOC! You get to see swimmers from Africa who've never been in a swimming pool before. Aboriginal Australian gold medalists proudly displaying two flags, one for their country and one for their people. It's unbearably exciting at times, at others crushingly sad. Really it's just good, clean, uplifting drama. Why the hate? The Olympics are a wonderfully unselfish television distraction from the usual "booo it's all about me" TV crap. I think, because I am Pollyanna, what this troubled, war-dappled world needs now are medals, sweet medals.

Though, all of this is bullshit if the USA doesn't come out on top. Don't tread on me or you'll get a boot up your ass and some shock and awe will do something to you and then Mia Hamm will eat your face off. Take that as a warning, China.

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