Thanks to the all squiggling FSM it’s finally over! We, (citizens of the USA for the rest of you losers), have triumphed! We crushed those upstart crony Chinese communists, smothered our long-standing Russian adversaries and overwhelmed our cocky British hosts. All that remains is to hear the sweet loser chanting about how it’s not about medals, or countries, or even wining and losing: what utter horseshit! The entire obscenely overpriced Olympic spectacle is just one giant primate chest thump. Today we get to pound our chests, bang the lower ranked females and crap all over the forest floor. God I detest the Olympics.
Final 2012 Olympic Medal Count
Let’s look at the our triumph from another point of view. The USA is currently running a yearly deficit of 1.27 trillion dollars. Our acknowledged debt is 15.92 trillion dollars. Our unfunded liabilities exceed 120.13 trillion dollars. If you want to depress yourself just load up the Debt Clock and watch the numbers tick inexorably up and up. In short we are completely and thoroughly broke. Dividing the USA medal count into these numbers yields:
- Price per medal vs. yearly deficit: 12.18 billion dollars.
- Price per medal vs. acknowledged debt: 153.08 billion dollars
- Price per medal vs. unfunded liabilities: 1.15 trillion dollars.
Yeah, we’re big winners when it comes to piling up debt! I’d happily trade all our medals to balance the budget. Hell, I’d give up all American medals from all Olympic games to balance the budget. Now I’m sure many American athletes will object to this deficit reduction plan. Perhaps with all the stress of training, surreptitious doping and getting strangers to pee in bottles they missed the transcendent One’s memo; “You didn’t win that medal, someone else won that!”
Readers of this blog know that I do not approve of the Olympics. What started out as an eccentric bit of 19th century classics nostalgia has morphed into the expensive, corrupt, drug fueled, real-estate orgy we endure today. Whatever athletic ideals the Olympic movement espoused died on national and corporate altars decades ago. By the time the first national anthem sounds the real gold has long since traded hands. It’s disappeared into offshore accounts, kick-back schemes, hidden payoffs and good old-fashioned high roller whoring. Despite the waste, drugs and corruption the public still bends over and begs flaccid IOC sodomites for more because only the Olympics decides pressing issues like who can best tumble on a mat and catch a ribbon! What’s wrong with you people?
My normal Olympic reflex is to head for the hills and ignore the damn circus. In 2008 I was deep in cell phone blocking redwood forests so I didn’t hear a peep about the Olympics. This year I’m not so lucky. Work and family obligations have kept me firmly locked in the Olympic vise. On my own I would change channels or read but I’m not on my own. My wife enjoys the games and her elderly demented mother enjoys them even more.
Dementia and the Olympics are perfect for each other! Last night while watching women’s beach volleyball my mother in-law complained about the game’s chief virtue: bikinis on tight female bodies. She wanted to know why these women were so shamefully dressed. My wife calmly explained that they were playing a game that’s normally played on the beach. “Where is the beach?” my mother in-law retorted. Indeed, where is the beach? It’s a perfect metaphor for the billions flushed down the Olympic sewer: connected cronies get rich, the proles ogle some fine ass and the taxpayer doesn’t even get a real beach to pound sand on! Again, what’s wrong with you people?
Click for more beach volleyball butts.
The US tax payer dodged a bullet yesterday (October 2, 2009). The IOC, that cabal of corrupt whores, awarded the Olympics to Rio instead of Chicago. I’ve seen Rio, it’s a beautiful city, and I pity the poor people there that will soon be paying out the wazoo for the dubious honor of enduring another installment of the world’s largest publicly funded real estate orgy followed by a two week drug enhanced circus of the inane.
Christ the Redeemer in Rio de Janerio