I watched a ton of figure skating this past Olympics. It's awesome. It's the Freddy Mercury of the Sporting world but with more falling and less good music. (Actually, no good music.) I watch it because I like theatricality in my winter sports. I also like sparkly things and public humiliation, so it really works for me. But one thing has me coming back every time: The falls. The falls are so fucking amazing.
Some kid from Farawayistan practices tornado jumps and triple lutzes 14 hours a day at gunpoint hoping for the big day when all their work will pay off, only to have life sucker punch them in the grundle precisely at the moment of their promised glory.
I feel so bad for them when it happens, but I can't avert my eyes. Talk about having your dreams taken away. And how much must it suck to have Bob Costas narrating your life's single most embarrassing moment. As if you already didn't feel bad enough, now you have a Paddington Bear inspired man child mocking you with a voice beautiful yet full of judgement and disdain. You can almost see God's hand reaching down from Heaven balling up into a giant fist, then obliterating these poor souls until all that is left of them is sadness. Glittery piles of pulverized sadness.
That being said I can't help but wonder who feels worse: A: An ice skater who falls flat on their face in front of millions and millions of disappointed friends, family, and countrymen, or B: Kurt Kobain while watching this video?
B. By a landslide. I hope Zombie Kurt Kobain rises from the dead just to eat this man's brains.