Inerrant Rampancy

Just another weblog

Fuck the Olympics

Welcome to the 2 weeks out of the year where we continue to ignore the problems that face most of the world, excluding the approximate 20 square feet of our own lives which is relatively untouched by poverty or war or sickness or death, but for these 2 weeks we are really going to put our backs into it and have a bunch of stupid monkeys jump around in pools and on courts and in sand for our amusement which is, when you think about it, how the best of vacations should be spent, watching other primates moving around in some sort of coordinated manner as though their feeble gesticulations meant something, as though their flailing made a single bit of difference to the ever forward-moving wave of time that seeks to crush and consume and recycle all who exist and have existed and will exist, as though watching these supposed pinnacles of human achievement makes us any less accountable or any less mortal or any more impressive despite the fact that none of us can do what they do, like this is all supposed to make the torture and starvation and injustice go away for even a little bit and allow the President of one of the only countries in the world able to do something about it sit there and watch like he deserves a vacation from anything, like he shouldn’t be expected to bust his ass for 4 years and then maybe do it again, like he can’t be bothered to ignore his own needs and desires for a little while so that maybe something could get done around here and maybe, just maybe, we could take a 2 week vacation that we’ve actually earned, rather than spending 14 or so days letting what is possibly one of the least accountable, least responsible, and least concerned countries on this planet throw a huge fucking party at the expense of its own citizens, tossing money that could have so easily been spent on those who need it, or even those who only want it, or on business or on infrastructure or food or imports or exports or buildings that will serve a purpose for longer than a fortnight or flights for emigrants or visas for visitors or public service announcements or the internet or vaccines or fucking anything other than the biggest blowout in 4 years so that China can feel better about being the complete and utter asshole that it is, so that China can be popular again, so that China can invariably continue to do what it is so very very good at doing which is almost nothing save for cheap labor and cheap goods and breeding and being the poster child for what is wrong with communism and tradition and the self-perception that you are greater than what you can prove you are, the saddest part about that being that we here in the great United States partake of that and are fueled by our own delusions of grandeur, which, though they contain in them that ever-shrinking bit of validity, are often times no better or worse than China’s in that we almost always claim more than we do and very rarely offer up the small dignity of doing more than we claim, and certainly I am not exempt from this discrepancy, from this disparity between what is shown and what is told, between what is written down on the page and what is burned up in the fires of activity, between, when you really and truly get at it, what is true in this world and what is pure, 100%, concentrated bull-shit, no I am not exempt at all from this but rather a full-on participant, one who is equally consumed by this disease of apathy coupled with verbosity, one who will blog and nothing more, who is self-confined to his 20 square feet like the rest and pissed as hell about it, but this time, yes, this time is going to be different because while the rest of the world sits back and watches the monkeys dance and sway and wonders where all the wars have gone and where the hate is and why we can’t always be sitting there watching like nothing was ever or will ever be wrong, this time while the television shows us the same story we have seen every four years since we can’t even remember, the same story that never gets better or worse while the outside world rages on toward an explosive and cataclysmic finale, while most will watch, this time, I will go somewhere and do something, and, if I am able enough, if I am anything more than a collection of dust, if I am anything more than a collection of ideas, if I am somehow ideas and dust and human power all balled into form, then maybe, maybe, maybe it will mean more than what is on the television.

At the very least there has to be something else on, right?


December 4, 2008 - Posted by | Uncategorized

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