Not the Reindeer Games

Today it all starts and we'll huddle around any television, any tablet, any smartphone any device that carries motion video and can transmit The Summer Games of the XXX Olympiad. As of today we're all fans and we're all in.

To warm your heart, if you're living in one of the 3.2 miles of the United States that's not being slow-roasted as I type this, try this column out of the WaPo (Washington Post; I was using the thuglife spelling I think). I love features on the smaller than life stuff vice how thrilled one of the guys on the men's basketball teams is to be in London or something of that ilk.

Someone somewhere will have the Thoughts of Phelps bound in a little red book like Mao's right up until he demonstrates his extraordinary lung capacity with a bong hit that lasts three days and then we'll all fall over one another condemning him. Why? Because that's how we roll.

It's supposed to be fun-not commerce by another name. Am I the only one who finds the irony so thick you can cut it with a fork that McDonalds is one the official sponsors of the Summer Olympics (I enjoyed that and screw you IOC). Some of the people on the gymnastics teams couldn't lift a Big Mac off their training partner if it accidentally fell on them.

And you have to love BP, the same folks who gave us the 'good golly, are we sorry about that Gulf of Mexico, youbetcha, buddy!' routine not that long ago are gonna help defray the costs of far more than just the swimming events. If the fish and gulls could see that now, right? Fueling the future while fooling ourselves.

We've already had the US team's clothing made in the wrong place-and the hosts, the United Kingdom, found out yesterday it's better to be a North Taurean than a South Taurean. Even when the moon is in the Seventh House. Who knew?

Poor North Korea, the new best country on earth to hold your honeymoon, is so impoverished, if the past is a predictor, close to thirty percent of their team will dash the hundred or so yards and defect taking with them probably half the political education officers assigned as their shadows and half the handlers of those guys, all intended to keep them from being gone with the wind in the first place.

Enjoy it while it lasts because when it's over, the 2012 Presidential nominating conventions will start and then the death of civility and common sense, also known as the election campaign, will ensue. But for now let the games begin. After all, you can go mad in celebration if you win a medal.    
-bill kenny