I used to love watching the Olympic
games but now the commentary is so stultifying I have to mute the TV. As with
the news, factual reporting and intelligent conversation is trumped by
supercilious trivialities.
I started to make a list of the ridiculous
things said by the commentators, but I gave up. It was becoming too long. I was
particularly offended by the presumption of some of them who felt inclined to
tell us how the athletes were thinking and/or feeling.
The commentary is a positive festival of
clichés; every time the speakers open their mouths they reveal a shocking
dearth of originality. Sure, they’re under pressure, but it’s not a hugely
demanding job. The sentimentality is lethal; the compensatory euphemisms
offered to those who fail to win a medal are as offensive.
The medium is terrified of silence. The
constant barrage of dialogue makes it challenging to develop your own original
thoughts about all you see; it’s insulting.
But the visuals and the performances of
the athletes are compelling. Everyone involved in the technical aspects of the
broadcasting are delivering on a par with the athletes. Sometimes you feel like
you are in the pool with them; you almost feel the puffs of dust that come from
the calcium on the hands of the gymnasts.
On walks lately, I’ve seen several
remarkable cars…..
This little collection of perfume bottles is on the dashboard of the gold Porche pictured below. |
No comments:
Post a Comment