[Disclaimer: This post will sound angry and judgemental. Now, I am definitely judgemental, but not really angry about this stuff. It also may sound like I hate the Olympics: I don't. In fact, this passion exudes straight outta sheer love for it, and saddness that I see it falling short of its wonderful potential. (I woke up this morning after having written it, and was like... man, I'm mean.)]
Thank you NBC, for ruining the Olympic Games. Why must I rely on you as the sole intermediary for a Californian-American-citizen-in-the-world-of-the-Kingdom to somehow meaningfully engage and interact with other people in this same world, this same Kingdom?
The Glory
Opening Ceremony. Not for the grandiosity. Not for the 2008 drummers and their earpieces. Not for a man floating around a bird’s nest with a torch (um… weird). But for the introduction to other human persons – with hopes, dreams, and heavily legitimate personal projects (just as legitimate as any United States citizen). This gave me the only goosebumps I had (or ever could have wanted) during the Olympics. This was the glimmer of potential of the Olympics.
The Shame
(Not counting steroids and egos and Russian/Georgian conflict and not seeing prime time water polo or coverage…) The screaming announcers who narra… ahem… vomit on the Olympics for every American who wants to participate in (kinda close to) real time. They know nothing of the potential of the Olympics. But they merely represent a deeper misunderstanding and betrayal of the meaning of the Olympics.
As early on as the first event after the Opening Ceremonies, the Olympics (as far as I am concerned) just became another pro event, commentated and trivialized by pre-recorded, well-rehearsed American media puppets. If I am wrong, I’m only wrong insofar as certain sports were not televised – and on this point, I am torn. How can I even attempt to connect with the athletes and events of the Olympics without TV? And how can I promote even a shred of meaning for the athletes and their events with it?
Maybe that’s just the problem! A meaningful Olympics just might depend on the reality that real, historical people are engaging in pure physical, embodied forms of disciplined sport and excellent competition; and acknowledging the legitimacy of each other’s potential in the honor and time they put into this.
But we… we try to unnaturally inject our flaccid, flabby, untrained, undisciplined impatient minds and bodies into this otherwise lovely, Olympic, human interaction. We seek out the Olympics by the image on the TV… the computer… the (GASPHHH!) iPhone. More like… “iDol.” (“Oh precious little device. O how you have saved me so much time, merely asking in exchange for unrelenting, urgent tyranny over my life.”)
We eat delivered pizza and fall asleep to the games’ televised image and sound every night (uh… I mean… I don’t… but… ah… you guys probably do… or something). We are not the games. We are not part of the meaning or potential of the games. But there are real people who are. And that’s special and important – that’s what keeps the Olympic torch aflame.
The Potential
The potential of the Olympic games is embodied, renewed humanity; found peacefully and purely in the spiritual and physical and cultural interaction of human persons. I believe in this potential. But I am profoundly let down by what I get to see of it. I simply hope and trust that it lives up to its great potential in Beijing this year. Yes. Maybe in Beijing. But in the Bay Area?
Bob Costas, you own the Olympics. Congratulations. May almighty God have mercy on your soul. On all of our souls.
