The first thing I saw was a bunch of goose-stepping Chinese soldiers hoisting up the communist flag. It wasn’t bad enough that I had to watch the world pay respect to a symbol of oppression, torture and death, but they were goose-stepping! Goose-stepping. Bad guys goose-step. It’s the international equivalent of a black hat in an old western. The good guys never goose-step.
And then, the propaganda started. It was all about
The main "theme" was Harmony. It’s
At one point, they had something like 2,000 synchronized drummers, dressed eerily similar to Cuban Pioneros de la Revolucion, pounding what sounded like a war march. One of the hosts mentioned that the drummers had been told to smile lest they intimidate the western audience. Smiling drumming red demons. To me it was like a vision of an Orwellian totalitarian hell with the masses working as one to achieve a common goal. Of course if anyone had acted as an individual and banged a different tune, disharmony would have resulted and the common goal not achieved. Take note. Apunten…(fuego).
In another incredible display of collective artistic accomplishment they had these box like things that moved around as if they were connected. It was cool. Ultimately it “spelled” the symbol “harmony”. Then people jumped out of the boxes, like strippers from a cake-or prisoners from a cell. They practiced 4 months, 8 hours a day, sometimes more, to get it right. This kind of spectacle will never be duplicated unless the Olympics are held in a place where they have an unlimited amount of people that can be forced to do this. Maybe they were forced to live in the boxes for 4 months. Who knows, it’s not like they have rights or they have laws in
We were told by NBC that
At this point, Costas reminded us how much
Sadly, I came back to witness the Olympic flag being carried and hoisted up by some more goose-stepping Red Army soldiers. I left on my own account this time. “Red Army” I kept saying…as I left to get yet another beer.I sat to watch the lighting of the torch. Four years ago, in Athens, a guy that went to my High School, a Hiller, brought in the torch into the stadium. This time it was someone I share another bond with, communism. The lighting of the torch was like as always, spectacular.
And then, we all cheered our countries of origin. As usual, when I saw the Cuban flag,(or was it the Puerto Rican flag-there's always a momentary pause- Oh wait, it couldn't have been the Puerto Rican Flag, they practically cut PR out of the parade to go to commercial-bastards), well, I got that bittersweet feeling I get when I see a Cuban team at an international sports competition-wanting to root for the flag but not the regime. And I imagined the males on the Cuban team hitting on the French, Italian and Australian women and I cheered then on...