All my appreciation of the Olympics, be it XXX or any X at all, comes in many parts, its acts being seven stages.
Stage One: The Olympics are on next week? Does anybody care?
Stage Two: Wow, these opening ceremonies are fabulous! All this pageantry, all these nations I've never heard of, look at all the cute girls! Now they're lighting the torch! Awesome!
Stage Three: I've been watching the Olympics every night! We've got a new America's Sweetheart, Gabby Douglas! And Michael Phelps has now won more gold medals than anyone ever!
Stage Four: Yeah, watched me some beach volleyball last night but after a bit I switched over to That Seventies Show.
Stage Five: Isn't there anything else on other than the Olympics?
Stage Six: Wow, these closing ceremonies are fabulous! All this pageantry, all these nations I've never heard of, look at all the cute girls! Now they're extinguishing the torch! Awesome!
Stage Seven: "Gabby Douglas Soars with Smuckers?" How many damn products can one person plug?!!!
But however you feel about the Olympics, there is one thing about them that is undeniably great: they succeed in making us all feel like underachieving losers. And that's good. Because the more we're humbled by what we see, the less likely we'll act like what we are.
Rude, inconsiderate assholes.
Sitting home watching Douglas twirl and spin or Franklin and Locte rocking the water, I realize I must have missed half a dozen or more positive mutations along the evolutionary trail. Considering my crustacean-like worth, how dare I ever freak out on you if you spill coffee on me, step on my toes, or shoot me in the back for my poke and leave me for dead?
And as these incredible athletes excel before the world, Donald Trump mopes about unable to speak, Charlie Sheen becomes modest and shy, and Mitt Romney treats his dog better.
That's the true Olympic Gold!
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