Sorry, terrorists…
:[ August 23rd, 2008When a ventriloquist makes you the centrepiece of his act, you’ve failed. Hard.
When a ventriloquist makes you the centrepiece of his act, you’ve failed. Hard.
Various items on interest flit across my RSS feed this morning:

What makes the Olympics great? Is the the spectacle of supreme athleticism? Is it the display of sportsmanship and fair play? Or is it a Cuban Taekwondo athlete kicking a referee in the face? Added bonus: His coach not only refused to apologize, but also accused the ref and the opposing team of fixing the match.For Katie:
And to get your Saturday morning kicked off the right way, a wholesome, nutritious breakfast. On a stick.
Is it just me, or did Usain Bolt’s little victory celebration at the end of the 100M sprint seem eerily reminiscent of Ben Johnson pulling out a big “I’m #1″ foam finger and waving it around in 1988? I seem to recall that the ol’ Anabolic Man also refused to shake hands with the other sprinters, rather like Bolt. Johnson, in his defence, had just bested Carl Lewis and didn’t much like him. Johnson was a cheating dick, but even he had standards.
Now don’t get me wrong: I quite like a bit of swagger in the Olympics. Showboating adds to the entertainment value, and for my money, you can’t overdo it. Next time he sets a world record, Bolt should spark up a celebratory doobie as he’s crossing the finish line. Ride the stick, baby*
* There is likely only one person on earth who will get the exact reference, and he reads this blog. The rest of you are free to talk quietly amongst yourselves.
It ain’t pretty.
How is it possible to make Mr. T seem boring? Campy, yes. Obnoxious, yes. But boring? T?
Stars Wayne Gretzky as the World’s Whitest White Guy™. Groundbreaking.
Even Vanilla Ice thought that was embarrasing.
So, if the 3,463,682,201 stories appearing in my RSS feed (per minute) are any indication, this Phelps guy is the big story of the Olympics. That’s all well and good, and more power to the guy, but as I understand it, he was the overwhelming favourite to win everything long before the games started. This strikes me as shitty narrative management.
Say you pitched a movie script, and it went something like this:
Forgive me if it seems like this is a “man bites dog, film at 11″ story.
Now, if he were to lose to a plucky fat kid — or, say, a lovable chimp who drinks beer — who got into the Olympics via some bizarre technicality… that would be a story.
p.s., Yes, I know that in one of his medal-winning performances he won by a hair’s-breadth. Woop-de-shit. I’d also like to point out that in this Olympics he’s only won 7 gold medals to date, which is only 7 more than I won, and I didn’t even compete.
Oh no he di’int. Oh yes he di’it:
If the need arises and the range is close, Mark Salter will edit John McCain in midsentence. After 19 years at each other’s side, neither man gives it a second thought. When a writer for The New Yorker was interviewing them last year about their latest best-selling book, the talk turned to hockey and the Arizona senator’s admiration for Wayne Gretzky, who coaches the Phoenix Coyotes. “Wayne Gretzky is one of the all-time best American athletes!” McCain proclaimed. But even before his boss finished speaking, Salter had spotted a slip-up: the hockey legend is from Ontario. “Yes,” Salter interjected, “Gretzky is one of the best American athletes … from Canada!”
If McCain wants to show that he knows something about hockey, he could just spout a few tried-and-true cliches: take it one game at a time, win the battles in the corners, be first to the puck, play our game, go hard to the net, find the open lane, break the cycle, make the outlet pass, take the home crowd out of it, play physical, stay out of the penalty box, etc. ad nauseum.
Well, at least he didn’t call it “Ice Hockey.”
Glove tap: Attaturk.