Olympics...and musings

Dancing man in flesh colored-leotard with mohawk and feminine makeup. Man with pyrotechnic rig strapped to his back spinning wildly. Men spinning flags, doing crazy tosses. A generally off-kilter feeling. And running commentary from two guys who think they know way more than they do. Yuck. These guys are talking really loud, about things i don't care about. About things that they don;t care about, but about which they are willing to convince themselves that they care about because it makes them feel more knowledgeable. I was just sitting here, in a comfortable chair, alone, in peace, soaking in the strangest tradition in sport, when someone in a neighboring room flipped on his roommates television. This television possesses a quality i have never understood in televisions. Its speakers face rearward. This TV was already turned up too loud (much like the voice of he who turned it on) but its rear-facing speakers, aimed right out the door, made it downright impossible to do anything in peace. bah.

If the only piece of music John Williams wrote was the olympic fanfare, he should still be considered the greatest modern composer. It is going on my iPod tonight. If you don't get into sports or feel patriotic during the Olympic games, then i doubt your humanity. Don't be surprised if Jack Bauer shows up at your door, shoots you in the shoulder, steps on the wound, and accuses you of treason...you just might deserve it.

Friday nights are pretty great.

Exactly how tape delayed is this broadcast that i am watching? i just started to go to the olympics webpage, but then realized that i might see who lit the torch. All the suspense of these four hours could be ruined. Like if i just randomly mentioned that part in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince when...just kidding Paul. I wouldn't do that.

some of the stuff in these ceremonies is just beyond imagination. Imagine the people brainstorming this. I really hope drugs were involved.
"Ok, we need 50 acrobats in silver suits climbing all over this mesh wall and supported by climbing ropes...they could make a dove out of their bodies!"
"Yeah, that sounds good, but how bout a big floating moon and sun as symbols of a Botticelli painting."

WHoa, i must interrupt. Someone needs to get Yoko Ono (or however you spell it) off the stage. Amnesty schmamnesty. All that would be great if it wasn't for this little thing called the fall of man.
"Imagine there's no countries,
It isn't hard to do,
Nothing to kill or die for,
No religion too,"
I'd never read these lyrics before...now that would be a scary world indeed. Hopefully a very suicidal one...imagine nothing to live for and no purpose...yay!

Someone bring in this torch and end this. I'm tired. I hope Francesco Totti lights the torch by kicking a flaming soccer ball into the cauldron. Ok, i guess its winter, so that's probably not going to happen, but can someone get on the phone with London to line up Beckham for their torch lighting in 2008?

Oh no! The Sports Illustrated favorite to light the torch, Alberto Tomba, is the first to carry the torch in the stadium. I hope there were betting odds on this and someone got really ticked off just now (and by now i mean 12 hours ago).

And it's lit...some cross country skier who i am sure is incredibly famous did the honors. Oh how little i know. This chick is the most decorated Italian Olympian ever and i have absolutely no clue who she is. Neither do at least 99.99 percent of all americans...kinda sad...but hey, she got her 15 seconds. And i'm out.

And I'm Back in the Game!

Well, what can i say. In my mind i keep hoping that this post will be greeted by Hugo Weaving drawling "Mr. Carr, welcome back...We missed you." But to be frank, that's just not going to happen. A few things happened in the last few days that have inspired me to return to the blogging world. Allow me to recount them.

1) I got all caught up on TV. In the past few months i have been sucked into the 24 and LOST phenomena that rule our country. Consequently, i have digested 102 episodes of 24 and 30+ episodes of LOST in the not-so-distant past. Call it my addiction. Call it an addiction far safer than that of my peers. Call it a colossal waste of time. Call it sheer bliss. But to be perfectly honest, Jack Bauer should be an American icon. How awesome would it be if our government really tortured all those terrorists. Wouldn't you feel more comfortable sleeping at night if you knew we had a guy on our side who is willing to bust a cap on a guys kneecap before he starts interrogating? I know i would...in fact, i do, because Jack Bauer lives on in my mind. LOST hasn't impressed me as much, but i'm still hooked like a heroin addict (and both shows have heroin addicts as main characters...what am i turning into????).

2) I'm done with poker for a while. Yeah, sad, i know. Its a brutal game really. Even if you're winning it feels like you're losing, and you find ways to convince yourself that you are a terrible player. My hat is off to the grinders. Joey Knish really does have a crappy life. Winning one big bet an hour has no glamour. That said, i'm sure i will start playing again soon enough. I have a whopping two hours of work per week these days, so i might need the cash/something to occupy my time.

3) Football is over. Sad isn't it? More sad is that i can count on my fingers the number of Pepperdine kids that are sad about this. As you all know, the Super Bowl was tonight. I am really hoping that the Sports Guy kept a running diary for it, and i am wishing that i had done likewise. A few things still stick in my mind which i simply must share: Why is Joss Stone white? During the pre game show she was up there grooving with all of Mo-Town, and no one even blinked. Not until halfway through the all-too-long Stevie Wonder show did i realize that she was the only white person on stage. One of her parents must be albino or something...we need to look into this. Was that Star Spangled Banner awkward or what? First, Aaron Neville was singing REALLY high and REALLY quiet. Second, Dr. John looked like a corpse. Third, Aretha Franklin put minks on the endangered species list. And fourth, all the performers looked like they were giving birth when they sang. A few face shots of the players summed everything up. Most of them (like me) thought all those people were dead, and the rest were wondering why they were allowed out in public.

The first half zoomed by, and bam, it was time for the Stones. Oh boy, never have i seen a group of more fried individuals in my life. One of the kids watching the game with me, (who has a problem with smoking...and not just cigarettes) shouted "Man, Mick Jagger would make the best grandpa ever!" I gave the ole sideways glance, bit my tongue and continued with my life. When poor Mick lost his jacket and subjected millions of people to his deteriorating and flabby arms i had to look away. That should have been a wardrobe malfunction. The stage was cool though.


So, all that to say, i have a little time on my hands. And i have chosen to spend it on you. There's more to say, but i don;t want to overdo it. Easy Mac here i come!