Fukushima #reblog
Today’s regurgitation reblog is served up by the WordPress “random post” feature. Back on July 24, 2011, I posted an “Aerial Reconnaissance Challenge” that was a photograph of the Fukushima nuclear reactor. It was also a Sunday.
This morning, while looking for an updated photograph, I found this news scarcely four hours old:
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Old Man Gauntlet
Image Credit: la vaca vegetariana (Flickr)
I guess I should preface this “post” with another one of my famous “laws.”
Tom’s Law #42
It can be difficult to defeat someone who has totally given up and utterly couldn’t give a shit less.
Pithy as always, eh?
And, bonus, I just found a way to work in today’s random song. Writer’s block has been defeated. It turns out there will be a post today. I win. You lose. Click the jump to suffer further.
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My Olympic Movement
Image Source: Poop The World Blog
Always eager in my quest to be a furry little lemming, I’ve decided to microblog the Olympics. I have my microbeer in hand. I am microready! (That sounds suspiciously like popcorn. Oh well, such is my fate.) Grab your butter flavoring. It’s go time.
This is my Olympic movement. Or, as I sometimes like to call it, a Movement for the Common Man.
I’m sure most of my reader have evacuated by now. Looks like it’s just gonna be you and me.
So, what is/are the Olympics? Perhaps the simplest definition (and the one found in the Demotivational Dictionary) is: an average throng observing and celebrating the spectacle of their own outliers.
Wikipedia says, “In statistics, an outlier is an observation that is numerically distant from the rest of the data. Grubbs defined an outlier as: An outlying observation, or outlier, is one that appears to deviate markedly from other members of the sample in which it occurs.”
In other words, the Olympics are the sporting version of the universe telling you, “On the bell curve you’re the dingle dangle that hangs down on the bottom. The cling clang thingie that gives the bell it’s special sound.”
Yes, without the average, the outliers would have nothing to outlie from to set themselves apart. Think about it. That’s perhaps the deepest thing I’ve ever said. It’s an outlier of thought.
In other other words, the Olympics are all about watching the select few who have won something known as the DNA Lotto.
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A sporting chance for women
Yesterday was a big day for women and sport. The World Cup Final is one of the few sporting events I actually watched. And I personally think the women on that team should be proud of themselves. They played awesome. Winning isn’t the only thing and the format dictates that someone has to win and someone has to lose.
Abby Wambach? OMG! I think I just fell in love. She’s so dreamy. Drenched in sweat, that short haircut, and scoring a go-ahead goal. All I can say is, “Wow.”
Is it wrong to be attracted to a sports star? If it is then I don’t wanna be right.
Speaking of FIFA, I don’t really know how the World Cup works. Do the athletes get paid or are they amateur status? Either way, how much do they make from endorsements and such? What would they have received if they had won? I couldn’t help but notice they were all covered in Nike logos.
In other news…
Inequity makes me angry. And the stories coming out of the upcoming Olympics are really starting to piss me off. Two in particular.
First there was the thing about “Nazi imagery” being used to promote the 2014 winter games in Russia. How in the name of hell is something like that allowed to happen? It guess it isn’t that surprising when they hire people who love and admire Hitler to handle marketing, eh? (Story.)
Then there was the bit about women’s badminton in the 2012 London Olympics. Those in charge wanted to create a more “attractive presentation.” That sounds more like Iron Chef than a frickin’ sporting event. So it was that a rule requiring women competing in badminton to wear uniforms consisting of “skirts or dresses.” Officials at the Badminton World Federation said the move would make the women appear more feminine and appealing to fans and corporate sponsors. Ah yes, the corporate sponsors. We can’t forget about them, can we?
Personally I think the time for half-assed measures has passed. Why not just make them play topless? I can pretty much guarantee that ratings and ticket sales will go through the roof. And it will be a modern-era gold rush for the corporate sponsors. Think of it? The ad space possibilities are intoxicating! You can have the Nike logo on one boob and still have one whole boob left over for something else.
I think the IOC (International Olympic Committee) should honestly go after what they want here. The IOC (which is a corporation, by the way) should send representatives to Olympic hopefuls by the time they are five-years-old to explain the facts of life. “We support your dreams. The Olympics would be nothing without people like you, the world class athletes that the world wants to see. We’ll use you like pieces on a chessboard to suit our needs. If you’re the best of the best and it meets our needs, we can make you a star. By the way, get used to being naked. God help you if you don’t meet our needs, though, even if you are the best in the world. We’ll crush you and your dreams like so much used meat.”
We find that it’s best to get those naive illusions out of the way at an early age.
And, last but not least…
My Netflix was out yesterday. So I ended up watching content on a different channel on my Roku device. We ended up on something called the SnagFilms channel, which is completely free. There were lots of interesting documentaries and such. By chance, the film we ended up watching was Training Rules.
Imagine that your had a lifetime dream that you had chased since the age of four. You become one of the best of the best, the top 20 in the nation, earn a scholarship and take your rightful place on the national stage. Then, it all suddenly ends when a person who is supposed to be looking out for you threatens to destroy everything you’ve ever dreamed about because of some arbitrary fact about yourself that she doesn’t like.
Welcome to the plot of the documentary Training Rules. The movie chronicles the effect that Penn State University women’s basketball coach Rene Portland had on the lives of women on her team.
A religious person, Portland was fiercely anti-lesbian. And if she thought you were gay, she wouldn’t just kick you off the team. She would use her awesome power and influence as the head coach of a successful program at PSU to keep you out of the sport forever. She’d make sure that your scholarship was cancelled. And she’d threaten to even prevent the transfer of credits.
Penn State, of course, did nothing about Portland even after adding homosexuality to the school’s non-discrimination policy. Which, in court, they argued, had no meaning since it wasn’t legally a contract. I love it when organizations take the high road.
I have little doubt that Portland viewed herself as a pious God warrior, but what she really did was destroy dreams and destroy lives. She was a destroyer of people.
The purpose of institutions like Penn State is to help people. To educate and support them. Not use them as disposable pawns in a high stakes game of money, glamor, prestige and corporate warfare.
Training Rules is the kind of movie that pisses you off. They say that all evil needs is for good men to do nothing. Penn State excelled at that. I highly recommend this one-hour documentary.
Maybe some day all people will have a fair shot at equity. But it sure isn’t now and it sure isn’t this planet.
Going for the Gold!
Ever want to make a negativity guru feel positive and ruin his day? This is your big chance. If you like the above tweet then I hope you’ll consider retweeting it to your followers.
Just like everyone else, I hope someday to be a proud sponsor of the American dream.
This tweet is my dream. Won’t you help it live on?
Short Story: Oops #BlogShorts
Oops
by Tom B. Taker
The quest to be the best. In the world. All day – every day – since the age of seven.
The Olympics were here.
The night before, he had the local chili.
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This post is part of the BlogShorts challenge. June 2011 – 30 stories – 30 words – 30 days.
Lago my pig-o
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The amount of training and determination and effort it takes to win Olympic gold can be legendary. Michael Phelps reportedly swam 36 hours a day every day for 27 years to reach Olympic greatness at the summer games just two years ago. After that much effort you’d think these athletes would have mastered the art of self-discipline. Surprisingly some haven’t.
Scotty Lago won bronze in the Vancouver winter games in the men’s “half-pipe” competition. (Biting my tongue here, so many obvious ways to go on this one. Must restrain myself and go for the classy subtle humor. Must try to avoid the easy way out with obvious half-pipe humor.)
After the win, WMUR Channel 9 summed it up nicely when they said Lago’s home town of Seabrook, New Hampshire, was “bursting with pride” following Lago’s performance on the half-pipe. “Lago’s name can be seen everywhere in town, and his posters line the walls of Town Hall,” Channel 9 reported. Poor Seabrook. How quickly fortunes can change. Instead of confetti and a parade down main street Lago will now likely find crickets when he deplanes back in his home town. AWKWARD!
Even though Lago reportedly attended a USOC “Ambassador Program” designed to assist athletes maintain acceptable conduct and be on their best behavior while the Olympics are still in progress, Lago couldn’t resist the urge to celebrate.
Lago went for the gold with his bronze … Lago went massive before sticking the landing … Lago got his medal bronzed if you know what I mean … That’s probably the best bronze job Lago ever had … Lago flipped the medal and quipped, “Call it in the air. Heads or tails?”
Geez. Do I have no shame? 🙂
Long story short, while out interacting with the fans, two pictures were taken of Lago with a young woman helping him celebrate his bronze medal performance in the half-pipe competition. Of course the pictures were published on the web site TMZ. (I have thoughtfully provided a direct link for those of you sick enough to look.)
In the first image Lago lifts his Team USA shirt, holds his bronze medal against the bulge in his pants and the beautiful woman kneels in front of Lago with her face in crotch and tries to kiss the medal while some others are seen standing and watching. I can only assume Lago shouted, “You’ve see the half-pipe. Now check out the whole thing!” Then the young lady comes up for air and stands in front of Lago rewards the fan’s efforts by placing the bronze medal in her mouth. Now that is one well-trained snowboarding fan.
“Lago apologized to the U.S. Ski, Snowboard Association and with the U.S. Olympics Committee and decided to go back home.”
Shouts from the Abyss 
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