Okay, first things first. This is awesome and this is the most disturbing thing I’ve seen in a while. The first one was reader submitted. The second, well, that was just a google image search gone bad. Yipes.
Okay, so what’s going on here? How did my, and so many other people’s hero get his dick so thoroughly dragged through the dust? Of course I’m talking about speed skating living legend, Sven Kramer and his devastating turn to the inside track. I mean, shit, man! Just last week this guy is calling journalists idiots for not knowing who he is (or, more to the point, for daring to suggest that American spectators may not know who he is), and that’s the true measure of a world class superstar, if I’m not mistaken. When you get fucking outraged that people don’t know who you are, well, you’ve arrived. Do you think Tom Cruise puts his name in with the maitre d? Fuck no. He walks up and says something like “hey, Carl.” And Carl says “Good evening, Mr. Cruise. How many this evening, sir?” that’s how shit is supposed to go when you’re WORLD FAMOUS, man.
Can you imagine if Carl had said something as completely barbaric as ‘very good sir, what’s the name?’ Well, I can imagine that Tom would turn around, flash a winning smile and say something to the effect of “who’s this guy? What’s my name…Ha!” but that’s because Cruise is old. He’s worked out all his youthful aggression pretending his wife is his husband while he pummels her from behind. But Kramer? Hey, slow down, bitch! That’s THE Sven Kramer you’re daring to ask the name of, honey!
Well, anyway, you get the idea. Yesterday, he was obviously still so flummoxed by this complete affront that he made the grievous error of listening to his coach as his coach made a grievous error and shepherded him into the wrong lane and disqualifying him from the men’s ten thousand.
Hell, it seems, has frozen, ladies and gentlemen.
Okay, now let’s just get some things straight right away. America is, by nature a xenophobic and isolated spot, and it makes us dumb. It’s such a big and sequestered nation that there’s no experiential way to learn world geography from over here. Add to that the fact that we’re the only superpower in the world and an economic powerhouse (at least for now…I’m watching you, China) and you’ll see why most people in America don’t know shit about other places in the world. It’s far away. It’s irrelevant. There’s NO practical reason to know that Darfur is a region and not a nation, because that shit doesn’t come up, because we’ve got plenty of geography and different culture and all that right here in the good old US of A.
Now, that doesn’t explain why most Americans can’t locate California, Canada or Mexico on a map…I think you’ve gotta chalk that up to all the idiots and anti-intellectuals a-rearing their kids to be the next generation of global tards, combined with a world of technology and cushiness that’s rendered natural selection powerless. But anyway, I’m rambling.
The thing is, there’s an explanation why Americans don’t know about the world. I think it’s pretty pathetic, personally. But it’s not completely baffling. I mean, set out from Paris heading east. Do the same thing from Omaha. After 8 hours, the guy who started in Paris will have traveled through Germany, Switzerland, Italy, Austria, Hungary, Romania, and into the Ukraine. The guy who started in Omaha will have traveled through Iowa. See my point? It doesn’t make it right, by any means, but I can see WHY people over here are so isolated and self centered. We’re the only-children of the globe. Well, we’ve got Canada and Mexico, and we ignore those too…Look, I’m not trying to figure it all out today, and I’m not defending ugly-americanism, I’m just saying is all.
The thing is, the Netherlands is a small, quirky very cool little country that doesn’t have a lot of cultural exports besides Heineken. I love the Netherlands. It’s beautiful, the laws and political climate is just my style, what with the hookers and the drugs and all that, but there’s one thing about the Netherlands that I find to be uh…hilarious, I guess is the word.
They LOVE speed skating. It’s a big, multimillion dollar sport there. These dudes, dudes like Sven Kramer, are HUGE stars in the Netherlands and they skate for stadiums full of people. That’s funny. Know why? Because speed skating is incredibly lame. Sorry. It is. No, YOU’RE wrong. It’s lame. It is. The idea that this kind of sport garners enthusiasm speaks very strongly to the notion that when weed becomes legal, the national consciousness will suddenly just sit down on the couch with some Doodlemunch and watch whatever crap is on tv.
Okay, so there’s that. Now let’s touch on the winter Olympics. Sure there’s shit like hockey and snowboarding and figure skating and okay, for the stoners and the lovers of the ironic, there’s curling. But that’s really it, man. The sports are all so bizarre and marginalized and goofy and man, nobody cares except for a few weirdos from a few countries that border the arctic circle who otherwise don’t get much recognition on the global level. I’m looking at you Scandinavia and Canada. I mean, the winter Olympics is basically tossing these poor frozen fuckers a bone in the spirit of global diplomacy, because let me promise you something. There was no speed skating going on in Greece back in the day. Which brings me to my point.
Hey Sven Kramer! You’re not famous! Look, maybe they know who you are back where you’re from, but everywhere else you are just a guy from a country that most people don’t know how to find on a map, and were they asked, couldn’t even tell you what the people from the Netherlands are called (they’re the Dutch, dummy). Don’t believe me? Okay, go into any city or any small town in the US, Canada, India, China, Japan, Mexico, Russia, all of South America, all of Africa, or anywhere in Australia and have someone point out where the Dutch live on a map. See how good they do. Oh, while you’re at it, ask them what speed skating is. You’re not famous.
Hey, everyone who lives in my house knows my name and what I do too, doesn’t mean I expect it from the guy at Dunkin Donuts.
Next, if you really ARE such an amazing phenom (and let’s be fair, he is. He was winning this race by the unbelievable margin of seven and a half seconds) and you’re really such a global household name, don’t you think it’s really not too much to ask to keep track of WHICH FUCKING LANE YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE IN DURING ONE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT RACES OF YOUR LIFE, EH?
Sure. Blame the fucking coach, but you know the truth. You fucked up your uh…whatever your race is called, you big baby.
In closing, in order to write this, I had to look this dudes name up on Yahoo, and I even watched this whole thing unfold on the news, so suck it.
I promise never to write about the Olympics again. Gotta go string my guitar. Peace.