The Games of the 29th Olympiad

As I type this, I am red eyed and filled with that empty, bottomless feeling that comes from almost two weeks of exhaustion. The world is moving by at a hazy pace; I feel disconnected and out of touch that can only be attributed to a total lack of sleep. My absence from the land of REM cycles and dreams has only one cause: the games of the 29th Olympiad.

I've always been a fan of the Olympics. I find them to be an uplifting experience, a short span of time where humanity shows that in the end, we're worth saving. Maybe. We are, after all, the species that keeps giving Shia LaBeouf movie roles and developed the concepts of war, murder, and racism, acts which are equally heinous (though, I'd lean towards Transformers leading to a greater degradation of society).

The games are when we shine the brightest. It's where we accomplish things that were thought to be impossible. It's where we set aside differences and show our pride for both our nations, but also for our humanity. And there have been some great Olympic moments in my lifetime. The lighting of the torch by bow and arrow in Barcelona. The Dream Team. Kerri Strug completing the vault on only one leg. Derek Redmond limping to the finish line with his father helping him along. Michael Johnson becoming a runner for the ages. All good stuff.

But for some reason, I have been utterly unable to tear myself away from these games. They have electrified me in a way that I have not felt about an Olympics in...well, ever.

Maybe its the challenge that it poses to watch these games. Because of the time difference, you're almost forced to stay up until the wee hours of the morning to watch the results of the competitions. It's a DARE to stay up, peeling back your eyelids in order to see who will be deemed the fastest man on the planet, or if the women's relay team will make it to the wall first. Fuck work, I've got to see if Dara Torres won!

Maybe its the fact that its in CHINA. China, a forbidden land of mystery and history and lots of other "y's." It's a land of Communism, something that is just so weird to think about, and ideology that was defeated in the Cold War but still remains intact. It helps that a FIFTH OF HUMANITY lives there to keep the Commie faith alive. It's a country that could easily go towards disaster or great triumph. It's a country that has made huge mistakes, all in the world public view, but is now attempting to atone for them.

Maybe (read that as probably), it's Michael Phelps. There's been enough superlatives heaped upon this fish-man to make the Great Wall look small by comparison. Maybe it's Dara Torres, or Nastia and Shawn. Maybe it's "Lightning" Bolt. Maybe it was the grandness of the opening ceremonies, the almost acid-trippiness of it. Maybe it was seeing a fifth of the world say "Hey, we're here too and you better take notice of us."

And maybe it's the fact that we, the World, THE PLANET EARTH, need these games more than ever. We need to know that even though there is global warming, global famine, global disease, global war, global poverty, global suffering, and global despair, there is still a something more. It's not a big thing. It's not something that you can go out and buy, (though I'm sure many manufactures would have you believe otherwise). It's not something that can necessarily change the world, but if applied the right way can topple all of the fear and the pain and the sense of loss that is going on today.

It's called hope. Hope that one day, the petty struggles between nations will be nothing more than a game of volleyball. Hope that one day, warring brothers will kick back and cheer on the same water polo team. Hope that one day, the damage we've caused to this planet will be a distant memory as we marvel at swimmers swimming faster than ever before. Hope that one day, everything will be alright. Hope that one day, we will all be Olympian.