By ALEXI VENICE
Friday night observation: What do the Olympics and Fifty Shades Freed have in common, aside from both starting on the same night? Excitement. Deception. Gamesmanship. Mental and physical pain. Victory. Satisfaction. Sex.
The first deception of the Olympics is One Shade of Blue, as North and South Korea appear as one team with their Korean Peninsula flag. For the Olympics, we learned there aren’t two shades of Koreans. There’s only one, and it looks like this:
North Korea’s actual flag is:
South Korea’s flag contains and element of frivolity, which is ironic given its proximity to a ruthless dictatorship that could annihilate it with one mouse click. Or, maybe that’s precisely why they have it. Check out the red and blue yin yang with the International Harvester logo stamped next to it.
Did the same guy who designed the Pepsi logo consult with South Korea on its flag? I’m just sayin’.
Their combined flag—for the Olympics only—might be an improvement for both countries.
As with the couple in Fifty Shades, relationships behind the scenes at the Olympics are NOT what they appear in public. I question whether South Korea is being bullied into this relationship. Ya think? One party has all the leverage and appears a tad abusive. Whip. Missile. What’s the difference?
For the sake of comparison, Americans have an amiable relationship with Canada, and our athletes even sort of look alike, but we’d never, ever, in-a-thousand-years consider combining our flags and entering as one team. That’s One Shade too Friendly.
I’m sure a U.S.-Canadian combined flag would look pretty cool, though. It would be the North American continent against a background of, well, Justin Trudeau, what else? Awesome! Dreamy. Fifty Shade that!
We watched the evening news on Friday night—as we do every night—to catch up on the revolving door of White House staff and what Trump says or Tweets. Friday, the news focused on the Olympic Opening Ceremonies, and the geopolitical strategies that were simultaneously playing out in the dignitary box.
Mike Pence represented the U.S., maintaining his perpetually frozen, smug smile while sitting within ten feet of Kim Jong-un’s sister, Kim Yo-jong. The leaders of South Korea and Japan flanked Pence and his wife. Pence has perfected his inscrutable look in the shadow of The Buffoon’s outrageous behavior.
However, I think Yo-jong might have out-smugged Pence with her plastic smile and cool veneer. We can all agree that she stands in a darker psychopath’s shadow so is probably more practiced than Pence at an impassive game face. The politicians in the box stared straight ahead, concentrating like never before on the athletes, guaranteeing they wouldn’t have to make eye contact with Yo-jong.
Can you imagine what might have transpired if The Buffoon had sat in the box? There’s no telling how far off script he would’ve gone. I can hear him now: “Hey. Yo-jong, tell your bro, Rocket Man, that my rockets are bigger.”
Later, would he have concocted a derisive nickname for her, like his infamous moniker for Elizabeth Warren—Pocahontas? I like to think I have a pretty good imagination, but I can’t even begin to fathom—much less type—what The Buffoon would call Yo-jong. Only time will tell through Tweets.
Coinciding with the Olympics, the latest installment of Fifty Shades is in movie theaters—Fifth Shades Freed. I desperately wanted to see it Friday night, but Bill refused, saying, “Why would I want to go to that? The last Fifty Shades movie we saw was horrible. Why do we think the sequel will be any better?”
I answered, “You want to see it for the same reason the other men are there. There’s a 95% chance you’ll get laid after the movie.” (Unless you do something to piss me off on the way home.)
He still refused. I tried another tack. “Did I mention that this movie has an Olympic Village theme? They’re each on a team from a different country and meet for the first time in Olympic Village, smoke some dope, then hook up in her dorm. She plays a very bendy gymnast, and he speaks in a Soviet-bloc accent while whipping her tender derriere.”
He eyed me suspiciously, so I pulled up the below image from the movie trailer. “See? Jet skiing is an Olympic sport, right?!”
He still didn’t bite. I told him he could sneak a can of Coors Light into the movie to deaden his senses. Nope.
I read today that Olympic Village will be stocked with 37 condoms per athlete for the two-week period. That’s more than twice per day! What the heck?! Do they hand out medals for that, too?
I think the announcers at the Olympics saw Fifty Shades last night. While calling the Men’s Giant Slalom, they said this about a skier: “He’s a Super G specialist. See how he keeps his head down, shoulders tucked in, and his hands in front? The Norwegian men are masterful at this.”
See? I’m not the only one thinking about Fifty Shades in Olympic Village. Maybe the next movie in the Fifty Shades series will emulate the curling competition— Fifty Shades of Mixed Doubles.