We Interrupt This Blog for an Olympic Rant

The greatest athlete in the Olympic Games…

…is someone you’ve probably never heard of. His name is Per Spett. Per Spett skis the moguls, which is the Olympic equivalent of driving in Connecticut if the state troopers gave you medals instead of tickets. Garnering a mere 48 seconds of air time on NBC, Per Spett is the greatest athlete of all time, and the future savior of humanity (see below). Why? What is it that cowed the network, intimidated the judges, and so frightened the other competitors?


This. This is Per Spett flying through the air, just prior to deftly flipping forward and sticking a perfect landing. Other skiers weren’t competing, they were LITERALLY skiing for their lives away from Per Spett’s lethally overwhelming aura of masculinity. Only an athlete of Per Spett’s caliber would risk a trick that involves completely losing sight of the ground (which obligingly shifted to facilitate his flawless landing out of fear of being ruthlessly hand-mined into savannah [see below]), instead of the childish, everyone-gets-a-trophy, boring backflips that the rest of the herd was repeating ad-naseum.


Per Spett was the obvious winner, but the Olympic medal machine would have none of it. Per Spett does not have a brother with Cerebral palsey. Per Spett does not have movie start good looks. Per Spett does not donate his time to saving puppies and kittens. Per Spett skis and pillages the Earth. Per Spett has the foresight to picture the fractured psyche of his defeated opponents on his skis (see above). Per Spett so destroyed the established order of his sport that, like a mogul shredding Galileo Galilei, he was prematurely eliminated simply to maintain the status quo. Per Spett is so cool that he shrugged this insult off, he understands that mortals are not yet able to gaze upon the full splendor of his talents. Per Spett does not get angry often, which is a good thing.


Do NOT anger Per Spett!

Unlike all of those white privilege, androgynous clones we see rocketing down the slopes, Per Spett works in an iron mine when not skiing. Wait, it gets better. The iron mine Per Spett works in is above the Arctic Circle. It is so cold there that all but simple tools will not function, forcing Per Spett to mine the ore with his bare hands! Per Spett is so efficient at this that the mine has recently been forced to excavate deeper shafts (1365 meters!) to sate the Swede’s unquenchable iron-lust. We are all taught in school that as the depth of any mineshaft increases, the probability of a Balrog approaches one (Durin’s Theorem). Therefore it is almost certain that Per Spett will awaken, and in short order, defeat a Balrog in our lifetimes. Per Spelt is so awesome he may not even realize he has saved humanity from this hellish inferno demon, shielded as he is by that magnificent facial hair, and distracted by thoughts of his next epic hit as he toils endlessly through the roots of the Earth.


Registered Trade Mark

So, as we all huddle for warmth around our hearths this winter, let us rejoice that men like Per Spett are always on watch to save us from not only the creatures of the depths, but the scripted boredom of quadrennial television pablum.

Also, has anyone noticed the amount of time Vladimir Putin has been spending around the Russian ice-dancing team? Just saying…

Raised in Oak Ridge, TN, Joseph Minarick received his Bachelor of Science in Political Science from Excelsior College in Albany, New York. He enlisted in the Army in 1999 and commissioned as an Armor Officer in 2004. He is currently the Plans Officer for the 278th Armored Cavalry Regiment, headquartered in Knoxville. Minarick’s interests in Appalachian history and sustainable development led him to co-found Firefly Farms with Dr. Erin Elizabeth Smith in 2012.