- The Washington Times - Monday, July 1, 2002

The bigwigs from the U.S. Olympic Committee have issued another smiley face to the Washington-Baltimore dolts hoping to secure the 2012 Summer Games.
This nonsense remains a quality-of-life threat to the region, starting with the bloat, corruption and holier-than-thou attitude of the International Olympic Committee.
The competitions, for the most part, are not all that intriguing, either.
Lawn bowling, anyone?
The extremists talk a good game at these functions. They eventually get around to releasing the white doves, as if the symbol of peace matters to Osama bin Laden or the next fruitcake who hates us so. Are you taking notes, you would-be dirty bombers?
The process is insulting, even 10 years before the imposition, if it comes to that.
The pretentious drop into an area from their rarefied air and proceed to hold a white-glove inspection. They bleed the cities myopic enough to hold the event, and the cities bleed the taxpayers, one way or another, in the so-called spirit of international goodwill.
Consider yourself warned, Washington commuters. More parking tickets are in the works.
We the people don't need this civic validation. We don't want it. Who are these pitiful sorts anyway other than puffed-up egos wallowing in self-importance?
They should take their elite fannies elsewhere, along with their private jets, limousines and body odors. They are taking up space.
The USOC leads to the professional gaff artists of the IOC.
The suits with the IOC have a lot of gall. Give them that. They don't appreciate America's corporate might, without which there would be no Olympics. They just take the money, gifts and favors that magically land their way.
America's national press often plays along with the contrived propriety, pretending to be outraged by the commercialization.
Isn't that funny in the land of the commercial break? Where else would a no-talent, plastic-faced, nonentity like Martha Stewart flourish? We push products. That's what we do. We are what we are, and no self-loathing should be necessary around the IOC crooks.
Yet that was one of the principal themes of the last Summer Games held on U.S. soil, in Atlanta in 1996. You remember the spiel. The place was too gaudy, there were too many T-shirt vendors, and that ceramic statue of Elvis was tasteless.
The IOC frauds, many from third-rate basket-case nations, expressed their displeasure while holding out their tin cups. Please, Mr. U.S., could you spare a few more Benjamins on the side? An ingrate can't live on caviar alone.
Of course, in a more fair world, these people would have had their visas revoked on the spot and put on the first plane back to whatever overrated garden spot they call home. But, no, dummy us, doofus America, we try our best to be hospitable hosts. Insult us. Berate us. Take our money. We don't mind, because we understand the power and glory of the ballroom-dancing competition.
We promise not to wave our flag too much. We would not want to be accused of being jingoistic, although we find it cute when the people of other nations wave their flags. You see, theirs is a cultural pride thing, ours an arrogant thing.
This is only one of the many lies of the Olympics. We all can get along, as long as America accepts the distortions, does most of the heavy lifting and doles out unconditional love, like a big old, slobbering mutt.
The latest visit from the USOC is just one of the steps of a long ordeal, which ought to tell you how convoluted, formal and bureaucratic the site-selection root canal has become.
Somehow we are supposed to be elated by the thumbs up from the USOC, however ridiculous the notion, as if we have just earned 30 percent off from our mortgage lender this month.
The so-called Olympic movement lost its dignity a long time ago, if it ever had any dignity. The revelations have accumulated over the years, and by now, to perpetrate the tattered ideal, we are obligated to ignore the phonies, hypocrites and liars.
We have to be pagans in a way, worshiping at the altar of a false god. Sorry. That's not nice to pagans in the age of moral equivalence, the empty thinking so essential to the IOC.
The mush is favored by all too many of the limp sad sacks in America's academia, none of whom, strangely enough, leaves these shores to the places of their dreams.
By the way, is Alec Baldwin, who threatened the lives of Henry Hyde and his family, still living in this country? It would be nice if he would follow through on his promise to leave America.
To be fair, the poor guy has issues: an expanding waistline, a temper that prompted Kim Basinger's departure and limited range as an actor. But he did promise to do America a favor, and we should hold him to it.
The IOC and its merry band of money-grubbing exploiters exist in part because of this vapidness. They show up to a place, exchange pleasantries with the humble bidders, have a couple of nice meals and make utterly nauseating pronouncements.
The latest is: You're looking good in 2012, Washington and Baltimore.
Looking good? Are you serious?
This comes from those who represent the dead. Who knows when the Olympics died? Maybe it died amid the female swimmers with the baritone voices from the former East Germany. Or maybe it died from the overall stewardship of Juan Antonio Samaranch, who never had the decency to die while in office.
Samaranch and his minions were takers, and his spirit endures. That's take, take and take some more, and then insult America to mix it up.
Yet somehow, unbelievably, it is all good.
Washington and Baltimore feel honored to be among the dupes.
The tripe does not go down easily against all the IOC-sponsored scandals, the doped-up competitors and the dysfunction of Washington.
Can we endeavor to have just a tiny clue?
The city is dancing with the fat cats of the Olympics, while D.C. firefighters sometimes are forced to employ garden hoses to do their job.
I know. Silly me. I'm missing the big picture.

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