Voldesport: it which cannot be named!

I've always loved the Olympics; like, 98% of the time it is fairly difficult to interest me in sports for longer than five minutes at a stretch, but during the Olympics I want to follow them all. Even, or perhaps especially, if I know nothing about them otherwise:

[...] as I now take pleasure in understanding the work of televised snooker players, thinking a series of curves and lines and then making these real, watching the balls dart and clatter and fall into beautiful shapes, as I also take pleasure in the skill of the cameramen, who can show my ignorant eye, picking out this detail and that, where the beautiful lines lie, where there are impossibilities in the way, where the danger is, and where success. (A. S. Byatt, 'Racine and the Tablecloth')

On the other hand, as a person who follows the news at all ever I can't help noticing that the IOC (venerable favorites) and the Cameron government (callow newcomers) seem to be falling all over themselves to see who can be more of a dick to more people, which is is not exactly delightful.

So probably what I will end up doing is watching avidly and jeering during the commercial breaks whilst reblogging pictures of pretty people on my Tumblr, which I have now, although I still find the interface vexing for many purposes.