Hey, so it’s Winter Olympics time.
I’m one of those awful people that kind of thinks of the Winter Olympics as ‘Those Other Olympics’, but after watching a bit of it I have decided that I’m wrong. The people in the Winter Olympics are far crazier, far more destructive than their summer counterparts.
In summer, people run. They swim. They flip around on a mat, and do some archery.
In winter they hurtle down an intentionally bumpy slope, propelling themselves into the air and flipping in ways that’ll most likely land them on their neck and snap their spinal cord. These people are absolutely fucking nuts, and because all of their sports seem inherently dangerous and crazy, I have no way to gauge exactly how dangerous and crazy it is.
It’s like when you were a kid and your mom maybe put some food coloring in your eggs just for fun, and you were all, WHOA. Mom can change the basic colors of things. What else can she do? Ride an easy-chair to the moon? Eat living, venomous snakes? Make a shank out of a toothbrush? Because your mother’s obscure talents are already unreachable, nothing can surprise you anymore.
I’m the same way with all of these winter sports. A snowboarder rockets fifteen in the air and does an Ultra Quark Bojangle. The crowd goes wild. I nod appreciatively. The next snowboarder rockets seventeen feet in the air and does a 1942 Supreme Burrito and the commentator stands, throws down his microphone, and sobs. He has reached the pinnacle of his profession. Nobody will ever achieve the perfection of the 1942 Supreme Burrito, and all other snowboarders may as well just shoot themselves in the face and be done with it.
And I am all, huh. I don’t really see the difference between that and the Ultra Quark Bojangle, but I’m very glad that they are all so excited. Isn’t that nice, oh look, he’s jumping up and down and won the gold medal.
To attempt any of these sports is impressive. To master them is ridiculous, and to excel at them is utterly unbelievable. Every single Olympic competitor excels at their craft, and at that point, it is difficult for me to discern Awesome from Awesomer. They are all just crazy people trying to kill themselves in a half-pipe, albeit fancily so.
So here’s to you, Olympians. May you not die in your quest for godhood.
I’ll just continue to watch and cover my eyes at the scary parts.