My Big Fat Olympics Blog Entry

I invoke thee, Thalia, Muse of Comedy, to tell me of the ancient Olympics, so that I may compare them to the modern Olympics, and be generally snarky while I do so. Tell of the events and the origins, the purposes and prizes, the flames and the fanfare. And tell of them in as flashy a way as possible, maybe involving some well-placed literary devices and a laser light show, for I bore easily. Sing of the athletes, Muse, and of their feats of strength and endurance and whatnot. Tell me of their hopes, dreams and extreme nudity. Tell us this story, goddess daughter of Zeus, beginning at whatever point you will, but remember- don’t leave out the nudity.

There are many myths involving the origin of the Olympic Games, some of which I have casually glanced at. I didn’t really read any, because let’s face it: chances are good that they’re like every other Greek myth and prominently feature adultery, magic and deities being born out of other deities’ brain cavities with both living to be petty and jealous another day. A popular story is that the Olympic Games were held to celebrate Zeus’ victory over the titan Cronos in a wrestling match, with the prize being the entire earth. The prizes in the ancient Olympic Games were olive wreaths, since there was only one earth to give away, and no one wanted to ask Zeus to share. These were eventually changed to medals, because it’s hard to polish olive wreaths and then angle them to reflect an annoying circle of light into the eyes of the losers. Whatever the Games’ origin, though, the first few probably involved Zeus, leaves and lots of naked running- and that’s definitely not providing the kind of support you’d need.

For your arches- I meant for your arches.

As old as the Olympic Games are, several aspects are similar to the ancient Games. For instance, the motto of the Olympics – ‘Swifter, Higher, Stronger,’ is a loose translation from the ancient Greek motto, which was actually closer to ‘Let’s get nekkid and rastle.' Many events and even more brightly colored Spandex have been added, much to the disappointment of many ardent fans of male swimming I know.

Many of the events that were originally in the Olympics have myths associated with them. One legend is that of a herald named Phidippides running 25 miles to Athens from– who can see where this is going? – Marathon to announce an Athenian victory, and then promptly dropping dead. Other sources say that it was a man named Eukles who performed the run-announce-die shtick. I don’t know how fiercely this is debated; in either case, they’re both dead now. The fact remains that many people today voluntarily run in an event that ended with a dead guy. Good call, folks. Some events, like the late pankration, have been eliminated from the roster. To get an approximation of pankration, multiply wrestling with boxing, subtract holds and add legal punches to the stomach. Now that’s an equation for internal hemorrhaging. Whee!

The flame is an ancient Greek tradition. Originally, it is thought that the flame was lit at the Games to symbolize the death and rebirth of Greek heroes. It was lit using a parabolic mirror, which displayed the Greeks’ algebraic and metallurgy prowess as well as their ability to subjugate all ant species by fire. Today, the torch is still lit using a parabolic mirror in Olympia by an actress (I’m sorry, what’s my motivation in this scene?) dressed as a priestess. The flame is played by an actual flame. It is then run by thousands of people all over the world in an amazing spectacle of unity and compressed, lightweight accelerants.

The flame passes over the soil of every nation as well as through every gas station, warehouse, farmhouse, henhouse, outhouse and doghouse as well as your house, if you play your cards right. It is then brought to the city hosting the Olympics and, in a symbolic link to the site of the ancient Games, used to light a gigantic joint. Seriously- did you see that thing? I don’t know what that architect was thinking, but I think I know what he was smoking. Swifter, higher, stronger, indeed.

Also, I haven’t been able to find any definitive information on this, because I haven’t looked, but I’m assuming that the current theme song hasn’t been around since ancient Greece. So that’s probably a ‘recent’ addition as well. You know the one- da, da! Da-da da da… hmmm. Perhaps that doesn’t translate very well to prose. There go my plans for Name that Tune: A Murder Mystery Novel. Anyway, you know it. During the ‘96 Olympics, in a fit of ‘vacation with your family’ zaniness, my sister and I choreographed a dance – and I use the word ‘dance’ in the loosest sense possible – to that song, and performed it at every opportunity. This was quite often, considering they play it when they go to commercials, when they come back from commercials, during promos and the in-depth looks at the struggles of all the athletes. Thanks to my subconscious mind and muscle memory, I now have an uncontrollable urge to perform this dance whenever I hear this song. This, as we’ve been through, is quite often. Luckily, it’s a hip, trendy dance with fist pumping a la Ace Ventura and large arm sweeps a la Vanna White, otherwise this involuntary performance might be embarrassing. Phew.

I also believe a new feature is that of the superfluous on-the-spot reporter who, as soon as an event ends, snatches the athlete and asks asinine questions so he or she can say something sportsmanlike whilst gasping for breath.

“Michael Phelps! Michael. That was a close race, congratulations on your win. What do you think you’ll have to do tomorrow for the gold?”
“Well, since we all have to start the race at the same time, I’m planning on swimming faster than everyone else.”
“Thanks! Good plan… can I touch your torso?”

I can’t imagine ancient Greeks waiting for an interview with microphone in hand, mostly because microphones hadn’t been invented yet. What do you think this is, some sort of anachronistic Disney movie? If they had, though, I would imagine the questions would be just as stupid as they are today:

“Nikos! Nikos! A minute of your time- you just received the beating of a lifetime from Papas over there. What will you have to do to win?”
“Well, (wheeze) I guess I’m going to try to avoid getting kicked square in the (gasp) stomach so much, I really think if I (choke) kicked him in the stomach a few times, instead of lying facedown in the dirt (gasp) swiping at the clouds of dust he kicked at me, I might have a better cha- would you excuse me? I think my kidney just fell out.”

Another new edition is the five-ringed Olympic flag. The five rings, of course, represent the five continents whose countries compete in the Games. Er, if you count North and South America as one continent. Note that we totally exclude Antarctica from this equation, because everyone knows that penguins are phenomenal athletes and would completely dominate all the events. So we just don’t tell them about the Games, rather than listen to them complain about how they’re running out of room on their ice floes for all these gold medals, but oh, that silver one is pretty, too and really, isn’t just competing an honor in itself? Stupid penguins.

As you can see, the Olympics have a great history, steeped in tradition and symbolism. Though the athletes now travel from all around the world and compete for shiny objects rather than circular foliage, the spirit of the Games remains the same: male swimmers should wear less clothing. What were you expecting, something unifying and profound? Pfft. It’s your first time here, I see. Thalia? You’re free to go. Why don’t you go see what you can do for SNL? I’ll meet you back here next week.