Obligatory Olympic Crapstorm and Memories...

 No Quote today. This doesn't really warrant any, as it is all just a rant and some reminiscences.

The Olympic Games are a farce. They have been for a very long time.

The idea that the world is somehow brought closer together by competition in sports that are mostly appealing to chicks and gay men, with scoring systems that often defy logic and are highly subjective, that require tight-spandex and rhinestones, that are often engaged in by little girls who are being judged by pedophiles, and which serve no useful purpose (as in "Four-man bobsled will never be a popular or useful transportation option for anyone; unlike NASCAR or the Kentucky Derby") is laughable.

Even the one sport I would watch -- Men's Ice Hockey; I'll get to the Women in a minute -- sucks because it would, in any normal year, put the NHL on ice (pun intended) for several weeks. The NHL is where it's at for hockey; anything else is a pale facsimile. It sucks even harder because you have to be up at 2 a.m. to watch a game that might interest you.

I really never would have had much interest in watching Latvia play Denmark, anyway, let alone stay up that late to watch it.

As to the Women's Hockey, to call it "competition" would be a laugher, even if you temporarily forgot its really just a bunch of girls playing.

Girls playing most sports that don't involve bikinis usually sucks.

I wonder how many go on "the disabled list" because they broke a nail, got cramps, or just...can't...deal... during a game?

Now, if women wish to play hockey, that's all well and fine. More power to you. Just don't pretend the end product is any good. Watching Women's Hockey is almost as torturous as watching the WNBA, a league where scoring is optional, and the primary purpose is to either give lesbians with no real job skills a chance to earn a tiny paycheck, or to give the NBA a means of virtue signaling it's commitment to "equality" at (very) low cost.

Considering the NBA is in bed with China, that commitment is about as tangible and substantive as the WNBA.

And speaking of China, Home of the Global Bat Scourge, I'm not at all surprised that whoever makes these sorts of decisions went ahead and let the world's premier Bio-weapons exporter (COVID-19), slave takers (Uighurs), democracy-crushers (Hong Kong) and producers of the very best plastic, novelty imitation dog crap have the opportunity to take a Victory Lap by ensuring the games went on. There is just too much money involved, I guess -- NBC has paid billions for the rights, the Chinese invested huge sums of (American) money in the construction of facilities, and for fuck's sake, what would we do if some obscure snowboarder or biathlete didn't get their opportunity to end up on the Wheaties box?

Other than expect them to get a job?

I mean, just think of all the effort put in by some skating fag for years, so that he can have his four minutes to achieve either lasting glory or return to ignominious anonymity. And he was always ignominiously anonymous to begin with, but the American Taxpayer kept him in glitter and Vaseline while in training.

I'm not watching. I never do. The pretense that the Olympics is "not about Nationalism" when it most certainly is is a joke (all the usual drug-test skirting, steroid use, paying off judges, that happens at every Olympic games is not about money, but rather national prestige). Do you think nations go through all the trouble of erecting ski ramps and swimming pools that will never be used again for shits and giggles? No. They're displaying their national pride.

Mrs. Overlord watches, especially the Homosexuals On Ice Figure Skating, because "girl". She then either calls me into the room to watch some teenaged chick do something totally useless (Triple Lutz? Yeah, put that on your resume, Sweetheart!), or regale me with descriptions of things I don't know nor care about. 

(Disclaimer: for the 7,943,471st time in print: the Overlord does not care if anyone is gay; he has his own problems, thank you).

Guarantee half those girls (even the ones with penises) end up being an extra in the Ice Capades or waiting tables at Waffle House when it's all over.

Unlike Men, things like this are the only "thrill of competition" most women get on TV outside of American Idol.

The Olympics is an idea which has outlived it's utility, it's no longer entertaining, and we've devolved in collective moral relativism that a nation with a history of oppression, mass imprisonment, murder of it's own citizens on the grandest scale, gets "celebrated" -- very expensively -- so that some idiot on skis can slide down a hill against a stopwatch seems something unimportant.

If you want the Olympics, summer or winter, to be more-entertaining and more-meaningful, then add defense to "sports" like speedskating or the need to dodge gunfire to curling.

As to whether the games "bring people together", I'm certain the Taliban is fervently praying that, one day, they'll have the honor and prestige of hosting an event that involves pubescent girls skating around in a onesie, made up like whores, without a hijab.

Are the Russians and Ukrainians not now pointing guns at one another, despite participating? At this very moment some punk on a snowboard is doing backflips, are there not millions of people around he world fighting with one another over a water hole or the interpretation of a religious text? Did we not just spend two years in lockdown because of a Chinese virus, only to send tens of thousands of others from around the world to China to bring back more, only with medals that ultimately mean nothing? 

What distinction is there, truly, in being the very best amateur cross-country skier on Earth, and in the context of everything else that's wrong in this world these days, who really gives a fuck?

Farce.

Two memories that have recently resurfaced, oddly enough, in the context of another dreadful faux celebration of a degenerate culture known as "Black History Month".

Years ago, when the Overlord was a cog in the corporate gristmill, he was required (COVID has me disliking the term "mandated") to attend what were euphemistically called "Diversity Training Sessions", or alternately, "Team Building Exercises".

It's all bullshit, really, but it's the first line of defense against lawsuit, so that's why every Co., Inc. or LLP does it. It keeps the lawyers at bay and it's a means of virtue signaling because some angry bitch with a useless degree can pretend she has an important job.

Anyway...

There's really no "Diversity" in it because one segment of the workforce -- heterosexual white males -- are not really encouraged to participate. Their role is to play the part of the denounced in a re-enactment of a Maoist struggle session, and to shut the fuck up about it.

We used to joke (a joke among the heterosexual White Male managers, that is) that Black History Month and the annual bitch sessions that come with it was really just "Black People Get To Be Openly Racist Month" and the only thing the "exercises" were ever good for was to identify the troublemakers that would eventually cost you your job if you didn't find a way to get rid of them.

For all the times I sat in those rooms listening to people talk about their fucking feelings -- hey, I'm your boss. You want someone to care about your feelings, get a puppy or a therapist; I don't get paid to care -- the only use I ever got out the thing was the knowledge of where the landmines were, and the laughs that come with the biggest phonies in the office emboldened enough to let the (non-COVID-Mandated-rhetorical) mask drop all the way.

You don't survive as a middle manager on Wall Street without the realization that the people who work for you are tools; the tools you need to get a job done, so you can get paid. And like any good craftsman, if your tools are broken, or they don't do the job you need them to do, or they pose a risk to health and safety, you replace them. Middle Managers are the most-vulnerable people on Planet Earth: they have a mass of people below them who would sell their own mothers into slavery in order to get their jobs, and they have a mass of people above them who would gladly throw them to the crocodiles if that's what it took to keep their own.

Back to the memories.

The first involves the ONE time I can recall when the heterosexual white males were actually encouraged to share their feelz on the subject of race. After the first two called upon regaled the audience with their tales of being the victims of violent crimes perpetrated by The Diversity, the discussion was quickly shut down -- we had to "move on", you see -- and do something more-constructive, like pick at the psychic scabs associated with the institution of slavery, a condition no one in that room ever had any experience with or connection to.

Because "racial harmony".

It was always amazing how quickly the Race Card got played in order to prevent others from playing The Race Card. The Race Card is a double-edged sword, you see, and those that live by it can certainly die by it.

The second involves the tearful and heart-wrenching "struggle" of a man who, having felt a surge of self-confidence because he was given this opportunity to whine like a menstrual bitch, to "come out" to his colleagues. After his emotional and extraordinarily self-serving description of his inner struggle to "be who I really am", he finally admitted that he was a homosexual, and there was complete silence.

I mean, you could literally hear a fly fart in that room for about 15 seconds. 

And then from the back of the room came the safety valve. Someone responded to his overwrought and emotionally-perilous outburst with a very simple statement:

"No shit, John".

And John was genuinely flabbergasted to discover that his colleagues had known all along that he was gay, that his secret had been so such thing, after all, and that no one gave a fuck.

He had to ask. They all have to.

"How did you know?"

Well, John, when you spend your days walking the hallways singing show tunes, show an obsessive interest in everyone's shoes, give the secretaries unbidden and unwanted make-up and hair care hints, and bring in the muffins, cookies and pies you've baked (damn, but he could bake!), and have a lisp so obnoxiously evident that it sounds like steam escaping when you speak, it's pretty much a foregone conclusion that you're smuggling salami in your anal cavity.

He was laboring under the false impression that he had been hiding "who I really am" from his colleagues for 11 years.

I still laugh at that one. Not because John was a bad person or that his "struggle" to simultaneously let the entire world know he was gayer than the Village People at a Boy Scout Jamboree and hide it from public view was just one of those situations where you think to yourself that Man's ability to ignore his own dumbfuck is infinite.

Which is why we get the Olympics in Communist China and Women's Ice Hockey, I reckon.