As if you haven't guessed, I'm not really the sporty type. Shocking, isn't it? I lived in the middle of Sydney for Australia's Olympics, back in 2000, and the only fond memory I have is how nice it was to get smashed with my friends on my Darlinghurst rooftop, watching the lasers shooting off Centerpoint Tower for the nightly Olympic light show. I do also remember being in a cocktail bar, during the opening ceremony, where I unfortunately looked up, over my gin & tonic, to a plasma, just in time to behold Nikki Bloody Webster and some ridiculous rock-eisteddford-on-acid representation of Australia as a country which had long achieved harmony with its Indigenous people - who we all loved very much, and who loved us back, in return. Yeah, right.

 

In Athens, I was briefly moved - though still not by the actual sport, which I didn't watch for a single second. I was staying with my Great Grandmother - having thrown myself into a fetal kind of re-trekking through my "past" (oh, dear) - who hates sport, even more than I do. However, she loves opening and closing ceremonies, and there I sat, waving farewell to another Olympics I had happily managed to ignore. And, yes, perhaps it makes sense that the city where man's intellect spawned modern civilisation, all these centuries later, in the middle of that absurd war, would actually use this moment to make a great statement that would - if you could see it - rise above the theatrics and pomp that such ceremonies are endeared to so many for. Every Olympics has the symbolic little girl. We had Nikki Webster - but you wouldn't expect much more from this country, let's face it. Athens had chosen an orphan from the outer poor villages, and after the show had come and gone, there she stood, alone in a darkened stadium, the spotlight shining down upon her, the final word given to a young soul who moved forward into a life that would be as one who would never know what the love we all strive for is really like. She walked across the stadium - dramatic, melancholic strings surrounding her - and before she left the stage, she turned and blew a kiss at the torch. The flame died, the stadium - perhaps, like our world - plunged into darkness. I was sincerely moved. It was subtle, yet brilliant. The city of modern civilisation had spoken.

Has it been 4 years, already? I guess it has - hello, Beijing. The IOC has officially bent over and let the Superpower have its way. Never mind human rights. Never mind the environment. Never mind freedom. Never mind Tibet. Never mind that we are still fighting a war supposedly based around the idea that we don't like oppressive regimes. The IOC has a future to secure. China has a future to secure. PR, anyone?

I confess that I have been, and will remain, a sadistic creature, when it comes to these Olympics - every negative piece of reporting, I thoroughly enjoy. And before you write me off as some unsporty faggot, can I just say that my aversion really isn't simply because I hate sport. I'm tired of macho boys with crewcuts assuring me that I just don't "get" it. I know I don't get it, thanks very much. And I'm happy not to. I can't connect to it, vicariously; I'm completely aware that this is what I'm missing, in comparison to my fellow man. I don't get a kick out attaching myself to people I don't know, so that, in their victory, I may feel a pseudo-victory, a great high, because through my attachment, it's as if the victory is mine. It isn't. And people love the Olympics, because the capacity for vicarious connection is so high. It's harder to connect to individuals, and geography has always been at the heart of any popular sport. We barrack for our home team, and we feel the "pride" of our local community (allowing us to vicariously experience the victory of those who represent us). Step that up a notch, and we have the likes of The State Of Origin, where we get to feel connected to our State. Since there are even more others who can also feel connected, we then get a giant dose of collective belonging - we tend to like those - and wow, isn't sport quite the rush? And the logical piece de resistance? Vicariously connecting to someone who represents your whole country, as they battle the other countries we think we are naturally better than. The mainstream don't need drugs - they have sport. You'd be stuck in your reality and individuality, without it. I can't buy it. I'll watch some people do various things that I enjoy watching, on the pure basis of admiring a skill - but "Aussie! Aussie! Aussie!" means zero to me. Yes, I know. Bah humbug. It's totally cool that (as chances are) you dig sport. You don't have to be like me. But you have to let me be me, I'm afraid. And that's me. I don't "get" sport.

But Beijing is way, way beyond that. Here we are with one of the most problematic countries for The West - for while we pretend to flex our muscles over global "problems", it's really only those we know are weak enough to screw over - in what, on so very many levels, is an ethical and political confound of great extremes: here, Superpower Dictatorship, have the ultimate symbol of domination and prosperity, and don't forget how useful it is for propaganda. We know that, after all. Yes, yes, everyone loves the Olympics, and yes, yes, they have loved them from childhood, and yes, yes, that translates into a regressive sort of feeling that is enough to tempt anyone. But we know the deal. However dazzled some of you may become, I ask you to remember it.

To commemorate the Olympics on Pop Psychology For Beautiful People, as we are bombarded with montage after montage of silly "greatest moments" packages (you know the kind - tears and pain and victory, in slow motion, as Mariah Carey sings about heroes, etc), let's have a look at 8 very lucky moments. 8, if you don't know, is the Chinese symbol for luck (that's why it's being used in every marketing campaign, at the moment). And I think we're very lucky to have known about the following.

1. Lip-Syncing Symbol Of Modern China

It's hard to beat this. Yes, there are more grave matters at hand, but for pure metaphor, you just can't go past the revelation that was Beijing's answer to Nikki Webster. Four years ago, Athens gave the ultimate word to a poor orphan. Yeah, she was pretty. Go figure. But hey, she was a poor orphan, and that was, you know, the point. And what has China offered? Milli Vanilli eat your Western heart out - I just love it when we point the finger (however rightly) at modern propaganda, forgetting that our own culture is not really that different, sometimes. It turns out that the darling little face of beautiful Lin Miaoke, who warmed our hearts with her moving rendition of "Ode To Motherland", was nothing more than that - a face - a symbol of wealth, modernity and perfection. The real voice belonged to Lang Peiyi, who was removed from the show because she had crooked teeth, a chubby face and a bad complexion. She was real China, mind you - but we weren't going to have that, heavens no. When questioned by media as to whether this was an appropriate decision, the ceremony's musical director assured the world that he did what was in "the interests of the nation". Indeed.

2. Computer Generated Fireworks

Remember the dazzling trail of fire leading to the stadium? Well, it was fake. Organisers were too worried that the smog would cloud the real dazzle, if not the potential rain (we'll see how they also got rid of that problem, in a moment), so they... you know... "made" the spectacle, beforehand. What you were watching, as you gasped from your couch, was a movie, a digital illusion manufactured to dazzle. It is worth noting, however, that the footage was handed out to the world's media with clear instructions on how to insert the footage, and everyone did - including our media, who were happy to pretend we were watching live dazzle and not pre-recorded special FX.

3. Rain-Making Missiles

No shit. So worried by the potential threat of rain - beyond the wet, you should see what it does to the smog - the government shot 1,110 (that's 1,100!) cloud-seeking missiles, carrying silver iodide, into the skies over the surrounding areas, forcing the clouds to break on these outer regions, instead of the Olympic city. If only the global warming crisis was so simply resolved by high-tech explosives.

4. Global Warming Message

Speaking of which, how can we forget the beautiful little children of the opening ceremony who painted clouds and the sun - two things most of them never see, thanks to their country's pollution - whilst singing, "Why are the birds falling from the sky? Why is the ice melting? We must save our Earth." So, let's just completely ignore that this comes from the world's biggest polluter and contributor to greenhouse gasses, and that 16 of the 20 most polluted cities of the Earth are in China. Why are those birds falling from the sky, they ask!? Is that supposed to be rhetorical?

 

5. Empty Seats

A month ago, China declared the games a complete sell-out, making it the most successful Olympics ever, in terms of attendance. Except, of course, that when the actual events kicked off... well.... nobody was attending. The world did quickly take note of this - even our own athletes started to complain to the Seven cameras. The official response was that all the seating had been handed out to corporate "gifts" (which means part of sponsorship and advertising packages), and that these corporations had failed to send anyone along. Within two days, however, seats were suddenly full. Were the big businesses finally stepping up to their end of the bargain? No - it was revealed that the empty seats were now filled with volunteers who had been sent in for free.

6. Scheduling Events to Secure American Viewers

Now, we all know that if there's one country China would very much like to dazzle with these games, its the (soon to be former?) powerhouse of America. It was revealed that Beijing agreed to break the tradition of having meets begin with heats and end (somewhat logically) with the finals, just so it could be aired during primetime American television, securing it the largest possible US market penetration.

7. Shipping Out Locals

It must also be noted - for it is important to be able to draw parallels, and not get too caught up in "us and them" - that one of the things I found most disturbing about the Sydney Olympics, was to discover that the city's homeless people had been rounded up like cattle and driven to army shelters for the duration of the games (after which, they were released back onto the streets). Naturally, the Chinese Authorities thought that was a splendid idea. So, they've stepped it up a notch or two: they went that extra step - because they're perfectionists, goddamnit - and cleared out all the migrant workers and poor people who are not allowed to go anywhere near the Olympic area. Or talk to press...

 

8. The Not So Free Press

As part of China's initial commitment to proving itself not the oppressive authoritarian state it really is, it initially assured the IOC that all international press would have complete freedom of speech and reporting at the games. Now that the games are in process, reporters have been quick to point out that this is not actually the case. Media agencies, editors and journalists were given a 21-point plan, demanding no reporting of controversial political topics or anything that could reflect negatively on the Olympic Games. They were also asked not to report on any emergencies within Olympic venues. Authorities have also banned any journalist from speaking to the local population without official consent to do so. When two journalist ignored these rules, four days ago, and set about in interviewing the migrants who were forced to leave the city for the games, Chinese authorities interrogated the journalists and then followed them, at close range, videoing the entire journey, so that they could not talk to locals without effectively endangering them (thankfully, they decided against putting anyone at risk, for the sake of the story). Another journalist who was reporting on a Tibetan demonstration just outside the city, was set upon by local police, thrown to the ground, stripped of his shoes and belongings, and shoved into a police van.

And that's that. You can go back to your TV coverage, now, as China marches onward into no doubt topping this all off by winning the whole damned thing. Of course, in China, toddlers are assessed by sports scouts, and any children deemed with athletic potential are whisked off to Beijing, to grow up away from their families and a normal academic education, in sports programmes and dormitories; thrown into world-class competition by the age of ten (I hope somebody read those gymnastics girls their bedtime story, after they won the gold they were born to). Sure, it's a form of child abuse... but just look at that medal tally!

 

But, I guess it's that, or Michael Phelps: the young symbol of the modern - or not - American ego, the fierce competitor who roars, "Yeah, baby, that's right!" at the people he beats. Charming.

Chinese propaganda. The American ego machine. What a very modern choice.