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Shark’s Daily Olympic Rant

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Date: Tuesday Aug. 17
Subject: NBC’s Monday Night at the Commercials
(occasionally broken up by a few minutes of an Olympic Event)


You gotta feel sorry for this kid. Between NBC, MSNBC, and most of the print media over the last month or so, he was so OVER-HYPED that he had to fail. It was a curse, a jinx — a good-old-fashioned implicit lesson from God Himself to all Americans in these troubled times.

“Don’t get cocky. You ain’t the best. Nothing is guaranteed. The Ego is deadly. Don’t count your Gold Chickens before they hatch. The one advantage the rest of the world might have over you Americans is that they’re hungrier — and they haven’t been told since birth that they deserve it.

Pride and Massive Overhyped Marketing Goeth Before a Fall.”

Too bad. The kid should just relax and swim, and the media and the commentators should, once again…


…which reminds me…


I don’t mean to pick on someone who has bounced around as ‘commentator’ for basically male audience sporting events because either somebody at the networks is doin’ the Wild Thang with her or just flat out thinks she’s “cute”, but man…

Ever notice her hands? They look like they belong to Andre The Giant or some brick mason. She should wear gloves… or better yet — just go topless. I mean, that’s why she’s onscreen anyway, right?

(BTW: I got a copy of NBC’s special notes to their Olympics interviewers; it was xeroxed from a Today Show copy personalized for Matt Lauer and Katie (Cute but Evil) Couric; the document only contains one line of instructions relative to onscreen interviews.

Ask them: “Can you describe how it felt?”

Over and over and over…


Okay, bear with me here for a sec.

It’s the bottom of the ninth in the World Series;

Player A has been up 4 times and gotten 3 hits and a walk.

Player B has a higher batting average, but has been sitting on the bench all night.

Coach pulls Player A and pinch-hits with Player B for the big one.

Player B strikes out or hits into a double play: game over.

Paul Hamm was Player A last night. He was in The Zone, as close to perfection as one can get without being allowed a seat on Olympus. But the coach pulled him for a guy who was cold, but supposedly BETTER at the Still Rings.

Jeesus, at that point, Paul Hamm was so ON that you just leave him the fuck alone. Don’t even speak to the kid. Just point to the next event and smile. He’ll do the rest.


If you think silver ain’t good enough for the USA, then blame the coach. When he gets back on American soil, we should send that fucker to spend some ‘teaching’ time with Ouday and Husay. (At least the Hussein Brothers knew how to deal with sports coaches who make critical mistakes. Nothing like the threat of a long torture and a beheading with a melon baller to motivate a coach. We should try it.)





Not only are these evil fuckers selling the most dangerous, deadly, harmful addicting poisonous drug in America (alcohol), but their commercials implicitly praise and encourage our worst behavior (especially among the young, their target audience; ie get them addicted to cigs and booze early and you’ve got a customer for life; just ask Joe Camel and Spuds MacKenzie).

Anyway, during the 2004 Olympics, I’ve seen two beer commercials that stand out as especially evil, heinous, and corrupting.

The first shows a pair of college-age house-ape frat boys standing in some ancient, beautiful European plaza.

IDIOT: “Well, here we are in Europe…”

Cut to various shots of the Stupid Boyz drunkenly dancing in some marketing prick’s outdated idea of a disco bar.

Add graphic: “Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, etc.”

Final shot shows last day of the week; slug-brained college pigs are standing back in the plaza.

One points his camera toward some tourist site to take his first ‘picture’ of Europe, and the viewer can only assume it’s actually some blond bimbo walking by.

Note that after a week of drinking all night, these worms don’t show the slightest hint of exhaustion or hangover.

Just Say No, America?


And where’s Nancy Reagan and the Far Right Moral Police when ya need ’em to protest something more widely corrupting than all the Marilyn Manson albums and Doom video games in the world?

This commercial not only touts beer, but it celebrates the rest of the world’s stereotype of the UGLY AMERICAN — too busy partying, drinking, farting, and belching their way across the globe to notice the Doge’s Palace or the Taj Mahal a few feet away.

Thanks, Bud.

The second heinous, evil, despicable, satanic, corrupting, degrading commercial shows a blond bimbo at a party; she’s dressed to the teeth, armed with a room temperature IQ, a hard body, a cleavage, and the ability to scan a roomful of people for the the richest, coolest single guy within miles.

EVIL TOADESS: “You know anybody here?”

MINDLESS MORON: “Yeah, they’re all partners at the firm…”

EVIL TOADESS: (thinking) “…mmm… RICH!”

MINDLESS MORON: …speaking of firm, you look pretty firm yourself…” (he makes a goofy horse-laff and suddenly looks as attractive as Matt Lauer with a nostril pimple)

EVIL TOADESS: (thinking) “…but not cool!”

The conversation is interrupted by a tuxedo wearing, handsome young man who politely drags her away from the rich, uncool wolfhound.

EVIL TOADESS: (thinking) “…mmm… COOL!” (speaks)
Who ARE you?”

PART-TIME ACTOR: “I’m the waiter… care for a salmon ball?”

EVIL TOADESS: (thinking) “…but not rich…” (speaks)


Come on, folks, is it just me, or are these advertising fucks celebrating and encouraging the very traits, habits, values, and manners that we try to eliminate from our culture and our kids?

Are they selling Americans something besides beer, maybe? Like ignorance, stupidity, vapidity, ethnocentricity, shallowness, and greed?

But, wait; I’m pretty familiar with contemporary America and its inhabitants — so there’s a HUGE MARKET for these things!


=== * * * * * ===

Shark Does The Opening Ceremony and Weekend Events

Shark Does a play-by-play of the “Dream Team” vs YMCA Blind Wheelchair Basketball Team

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About Mark Shark

  • Eric Olsen

    Thanks Sharky,

    I think Phelps is handling himself very well, keeping perspective and not letting the “aren’t you disappointed” shit get to him.

    My perspective on the commercials is: they are fucking commercials, ignore them. I turn up the radio to the Indians game during the commercials, go pee, sleep for a few minutes, etc. The commercials might as well be dead air for as much as I notice them. BUT, good points, cars and beer: the American way?

  • ok, now shark needs to get up at the crack of dawn’s ass and review a badminton match.

    i watched on this morning.

    it aint’ the same thing we used to do during the family bbq’s.

  • Shark

    Eric, unfortunately, my spleen requires that I watch the commercials. It just can’t get enough psychological toxins.

    (Besides, I need the material!)

  • i couldn’t get over the idea of “drink bud in europe”.


  • Hey you have to admit some of those beer commercials are rather humorous. Not the ones you mentioned, but have you seen the low calorie beer commercials? You know, the ones where they have people do like 10 meter relays or something, or a 10 meter marathon, just to show how easy it is to burn off the calorie from the beer. Yeah beer is bad, but they’re clever commercials none the less.

  • Well, I was going to type “give it a rest.” But then I read your post.

    Wildly entertaining.

  • Shark

    Thanks, Andrew, et al. I aim to please.


    I watched TUES. night’s activities and don’t have much to say.

    The Flying Munchkins With Hormone Problems (aka USA Little Girls’ Gymnastics Team) got a Silver Medal — and once again, NBC’s pick to become the next cute overhyped Mary Lou Retton choked at every opportunity.

    So much for the hype. Spend every friggin’ day of your life distorting your body for a climactic couple of nights every four years — then hit a small bump — and you’re relegated to the dust-bin of Sports TV history. You’ll be lucky if you show up as a Jeopardy question or a bar bet.

    I can’t even tell you the name of the girl who [in 1996] was the big star of the last “dramatic” moment in gymnastics history; she sprained her ankle and the network treated her like Audie Murphy single-handedly fighting a Panzer Division in the Battle of the Bulge.

    I do remember the guy who carried her around the venue: Bela Karolyi.


    Don’t you know she’s thrilled?

    (“I wasted my childhood, sprained the fuck outta my ankle, and Shark doesn’t remember my name!?”)

    Like forgetting Custer’s name but remembering his *horse’s.

    Fame and fortune. Bait and Switch.

    Fickle Finger of Fate.



    Another thing I noticed is that our fucked up hyper-inflated Nationalism is apparently rotting away the brains at NBC; you’d think there were only one or two countries competing in most events.

    The Chinese gymnasts got less time than Pat Buchanan will at the upcoming GOP Convention — and a casual glance makes it look like the White Western European Olympics.

    Not much else to report.

    Oh yeah: No bombs or terrorist attacks yet, but **Iraq is still a fucking vietnam-like quagmire.

    *Comanche (–I knew that)

    ** off America’s radar; we’re tired of that ‘competition’ and would rather pay attention to one we can ‘win’ — or at least come in second place.

  • Eric Olsen

    Kerri Strug. How can we forget one of the iconic lines in the history of sport, Bela’s “Keddi, you are a weeeener!”

  • And don’t forget, “You cawn doo eet!”

  • Joe

    VS- the flip side to that coin: “We suck, again!”

  • KATHY C.