Every four years, summer has a reason to exist.
I'll say this simply: I love the Olympics. The tanned muscles on display. The human interest stories so filled with forced sentiment that you vomit through your tears. The "It's a Small World" parade of nations.
It's a beautiful thing.
Also, for those of a more macabre sense of humanity, a potentially horrific one. When you really consider the nature of these incredible feats of fitness, aren't you just sort of waiting for something truly awful to happen?
where you just constantly wait for the muscular oarsmen to crack and tear the chirpy coxswain to chum
The horrors of gymnastics
that insane body cult that puts the viewer in a constant state of Final Destination 5
where you watch men and women grab and lift bars designed to remind you of Debbie's fate in Nightmare On Elm Street Part 4
or how I image food foraging will be after the nukes are dropped in the year 2043
Every swimming event
where you eagerly wait for the dolphin-like water sprites to finally transform into the human-eating fish people from that Buffy episode with Wentworth Miller
the sport that reminds you just how horrifying it is to be stranded in the middle of nowhere with nary a port-a-potty in site
one of the rare events that seemed okay and like something you did every day as a suburban kid until THIS HAPPENS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOUR EYES
where you're bored and fidgety so you just start dreaming about Cthulu-like creatures crashing the action to make you care
where large men attempt to volley a tiny prop often used to make zombie googly eyed monsters and then you think, wait, what if that really is the eyeball of an zombie googly eyed monster?
where you watch human gazelles sprint at speeds you like to imagine you could summon if ever chased by a werewolf
because I've watched enough Oz to know it's not that hard to replace a non-stabby knife with a real one
Go for the gold. And be really, really careful.