The Olympics benefit?

Security forces who get new guns and bomb disposal robots? Local hookers who get extra customers for 16 days? Michael Phelps? Caitlyn Jenner?

The illusion of temporary global unity is nauseating enough. Watching the teams marching around the Olympic Stadium waving to the cameras and the horrible fans in the stands waving their flags. Ping pong finals? The Olympics are like field day at the UN. Only five countries really have any chance whatsoever of winning anything. The same five countries that are permanent members of the security council.

Global unity. Bad commercials made by multinationals, as powerful as the nations themselves. Nestle doesn’t need a standing army, but it gets the benefits of one. Monsanto doesn’t have nuclear weapons, but it gets all the benefits of having them.

The highlight of the Olympics: Competitors from all over the world pissing in the same pool and then swimming in it.

Women’s beach volleyball is a sport or is it more of a fetish?




Strange SEO information:

The belly of the world and its dim essence in the mirror. The planet wanders backwards where the dark ends, lost and darkness breezes over. Adivinanza la sombra violeta. Airplanes wink from up high. Slouches, twigs and pebbles and sand lie undisturbed in the barren canyons, utterly nothing. Tiny-sized daydreams in tony landscapes and penny-colored boils in the backwater. Circus. Hay bales. Open, airy sheds. Brighten to signal the waiter when you want the check. You’re either a crook or you’re not. Hop into the larder. A pheasant falls out of the air, dies in mid-flight, one last wild navigational glance and then it crashes to the pavement, it’s tiny head buzzing electrically and twitching, feathers unplugged. A perfect circus of dirty laundry. Juggling socks. Juggling mittens. Island pines. Violence rusts like razors. Ouch! “I cut myself slavering.” Forget the last dance, save me the last handjob. Make that the first.