You know what I don't care about? The Olympics...

[Note: not giving a shit about the Olympics originally opined by Will Leitch himself in God Save the Fan. Mr. Leitch's opinion agreed with here without express written permission.]

But you know what I do care about? Hating on Gregg Doyel, that's what. So let's ditch the safety net of stats and get into my true wheelhouse - complex, multifaceted questions of international relations that combine economics, politics, and ethics in an almost unfathomable stew. Gregg, you have some thoughts on the Olympics?

Try not to smash your face into your keyboard as you read the following sentence: The 2008 Olympics are being threatened by the human rights protest du jour.

Wait, what's supposed to be smash-inducing about that? The fact that some outdated, uninteresting sporting event is being used as a forum to draw attention to a terrible human rights abuse? What's so horrible about that?

[Somewhat serious note: Tibet is a really complicated mess of an issue for no end of reasons, and honestly I'm not sure I have anything intelligent to say about it. Well, unless you count, "Man, that Tibet thing is fucked up." But without even having read the rest of the article, I am absolutely certain Gregg Doyel has nothing worthwhile to say about it, and if there's one thing the debate doesn't need it's some cantankerous jerk of a sportswriter weighing in on something he doesn't understand. I'm here in some very feeble attempt to cancel him out, and that's all. I don't claim to have any more profound understanding than that.]

Today it's Tibet, which means Richard Gere, Barack Obama, Hillary Clinton and the rest of the do-gooder elite are in luck. The 2008 Summer Games are approaching in Beijing, so unless China stops pushing around Tibet, the solution is simple.

Boycott!

He's so right - fucking do-gooders, the lot of them! And what about this whole "elite" thing? Fucking elitists, always deciding for regular schmoes like Gregg or me whether China should horrifically violate our basic human rights for half a century. Like they always know what's best for us.

The Olympic torch passed through the United States on Wednesday and was met with massive protests, with the torch -- an inanimate object, for Chrissakes -- needing its own security.

Yeah, because if there's one thing that can never have power, it's a symbol. A symbol invented by the Nazis for the 1936 Olympics in order to make literal the supposed link between classical Greece and the Third Reich, as seen in Leni Riefenstahl's Olympia, but a symbol nonetheless. You can see it all in my favorite source of documentary evidence, German death metal videos.



But you know what? Decrying the protest of what is essentially recontextualized Nazi iconography is only the very tip of Gregg's asinine iceberg (asin-iceberg?).

Meanwhile, in Europe, a boycott of the entire Olympiad -- not just the opening ceremonies -- is being openly discussed. It's a matter of time before that discussion hits this country, with Gere already saying the United States should do it.

Knucklehead.

Knucklehead? Apparently Michael Wilbon is co-writing this garbage. That at least explains all the aimless rage, although I would have expected some "Tibet protesters are like the NFL draft - IRRELEVANT and the knuckleheads who care about it are DOPES!" comment by now.

Let me make this as plain as possible: Tibetans do not come before Americans. Sorry. They just don't.

Now that's what I call ethical philosophy! Peter Singer, your preferential utilitarian ass just got pwned by Gregg Doyel. How the hell are you going to come up with a more rigorous proof than, "They just don't"? Fucker even apologized for your wrongness. You know what that is? That's classy. And logically consistent. Consistent with schooling your ass in matters philosophical!

You know what? Fuck it, Gregg Doyel just solved the entire field of ethics with one simple formula:

Americans > Tibetans

Suck it, Jeremy Bentham, I'd like to see anything even half as enlightening as that in fucking The Principles of Morals and Legislation. Greatest happiness principle my ass!

And it's not about numbers, because if it were, the boycott movement would win. China has brutally occupied Tibet for more than 50 years, and by some accounts more than 1.2 million Tibetans have died because of it. There will be roughly 550 members of the 2008 U.S. Olympic team.

You see, don't think Gregg Doyel is a heartless asshole who only cares about Olympic athletes. He cares about this whole Tibet thing, dammit. You know how I know that? Because he mentions it in one fucking sentence, that's why. Or at least what "some accounts" say about it.

If this were a mathematical equation, it would read like this: 1.2 million is greater than 550. Therefore, boycott.

Right, but we already established your pioneering formula of Americans > Tibet, which clearly supersedes mere arithmetic. Also, Gregg, "therefore"? C'mon, you're an ethical philosopher now. "QED", please.

But this isn't a mathematical equation. Our loyalties in this country, now more than ever, must be to our people first.

Couldn't find a way to cram "support our troops" in there, could you? What about:

"It's a smack in the face to all our brave men and women serving overseas who are fighting for our right to take bronze in the archery."

You can have that one for free. Schmuck.

Nothing against the Tibetans. What they've been subjected to is outrageous. It's horrific.

Dude, the construction "Nothing against the [BLANK]" is appropriate for, say, noting that your coworker's kid is kind of a brat. You know, like this: "Nothing against Jodie, but sometimes I want to slap that kid of hers. Always with the singing!" However, it is not sufficient if you want to trivialize a human rights abuse. You'd at least have to throw in a "Look" at the start - you know, "Look, nothing against the Tibetans." See what that did there? The "Look" shows people you're getting real.

But it's not Amanda Sims' problem. Sims is a college freshman from Santa Rosa, Calif., who wakes before dawn to swim, then goes to class, then returns to the pool for another practice session in the evening. When she was in high school her coaches said she didn't miss a practice. Ever. In four years. That's a streak of more than 1,300 sessions. Why so serious? Because she was in training for the 2008 Olympics.

Gere and anyone who wants to join the boycotting movement needs to knock on Amanda Sims' door tomorrow at 5:15 a.m. -- she'll be awake -- and tell her: Sorry, you've wasted the last 12 years of your life. Tibet needs our help.

Gregg Doyel, you sack of shit. I started this post with the noble goal of making fun of you, but now I'm just legitimately enraged.

The obvious response to those paragraphs is to reverse them, to describe the horrific conditions Tibetans live under - which are way worse than having to practice swimming a lot, I can assure you - and then say that I hope Gregg will be telling those people, "Sorry, the rest of your life is doomed to endless pain and suffering at the hands of a brutal, oppressive regime. Amanda Sims needs her shot at a medal." But you know what? I think that'd be unnecessarily sensationalist and tastelessly dickish, and I'm going to take something resembling the high road here. Also, I apologize to Amanda Sims for dragging her into the crossfire of my war against Gregg Doyel. Sometimes I hurt the innocent in my drive to punish the wicked. I'm like a badass vigilante in that respect.

Maybe I'd feel differently about this if a U.S. boycott of the 2008 Olympiad would work, but it won't.

Gregg goes on to describe how the boycott of the 1980 Olympics in the Soviet Union did nothing to stop all the carnage in Afghanistan. And yes, that's true. Indeed, there's something to be said for an intelligent, rational discussion of the many, many factors that go into this entire business. I mean, it's probably true that a boycott amounts to little more than empty saber-rattling and that no real political pressure will actually be placed upon the Chinese to improve the Tibet situation.

And so then one can wonder whether, as cruel as it may sound, maybe all a boycott would accomplish is screwing over the athletes in the name of an empty gesture towards the Tibetans, and that unless politicians are really serious about getting tough on China, a boycott is pointless. That's a harsh but quite possibly true analysis, and deserves the attention of a sophisticated, intelligent writer who can argue them out. A writer who doesn't marginalize the important exercise of freedom of speech that is peaceful protest. A writer who doesn't reduce a complex question of political ethics to a jingoistic formula. A writer who doesn't spend more time detailing some swimmer's workout schedule than the last fifty years of Tibetan history. A writer who actually realizes the horrific, painful irony of including these two sentences in his article:

I care more about hundreds of Americans than millions of Tibetans. Sorry. I just do.

Let's not forgive the guilty. But let's not forsake the innocent.

God dammit Gregg Doyel, you've made me not funny. I mean intentionally not funny.

On a slightly more substantial note...

I'm going to take Gregg Doyel to task over...something. I know it involves sexiness, which is a glorious, beautiful thing that I just don't trust in the hands of someone who spells Gregg with three g's.

Danica Patrick wants it both ways, and please -- please -- get your mind out of the gutter. That wasn't a sexual reference...

It's been a long time since I've seen writing that classy. And by classy, I mean middle school classy (OOH! BURN!!!). Look, I'm as male as the next fella - I actually considered changing my name to Joe Six-Pack but I just didn't feel it was stereotypically manly and American enough - and even I didn't notice the double entendre there until ol' Greggy (Gregggy?) pointed it out. Nothing says "quality journalism" like making a juvenile sex joke and then calling your readers perverts. Because that's what he's calling all of you right now: perverts. And I know for a fact that some of you aren't. Well, at least I hope we have a non-pervert readership. Honestly, I just hope we have a readership.

Like I said, she wants it both ways -- she wants to be treated like a serious racecar driver, but she also wants to be seen as a sex object -- when her body of work suggests she is only one of them. Assuming you find her sexy.

I dunno, I think this is reasonably sexy. Maybe not first-world all-hottie (man, I'm so proud this is the subject of my first post) but still perfectly decent. And doesn't she get extra points for driving fast cars? Guys like fast cars, right? I mean...GRR!!! VRRM VRRM!!!

So yeah, I think Danica Patrick is pretty sexy, certainly by the standards of race car drivers. But hey, what do I know? I think Sanjuro is superior to Yojimbo! (I mean, really...)

Considering she hasn't won a race in her three seasons on the IndyCar circuit -- a tiny, elite series where getting a ride is the hardest accomplishment -- she's still a novelty act. Patrick is the pretty young thing trading paint with the men.

People who have raced on the IndyCar circuit in 2007: 32
People who have won races on the IndyCar circuit in 2007: 6

That means there are six real racers and twenty-six novelty acts on IndyCar at the moment. And that seems really unlikely, unless they've all got great gimmicks on a par with being reasonably sexy in a male-dominated sport (I know for a fact that Ryan Hunter-Reay yodels while he races, but you can't really hear it over the, you know, race cars).

Also, Danica Patrick is seventh in total points - that's the best of anybody who hasn't won a race - has four top-5 finishes and eleven top-10s. I honestly had no idea what I'd find when I looked up these IndyCar stats, and I must admit I was deathly afraid Danica would be the second-worst racer or something. But no - she's seventh-best. Which is really pretty reasonable in a thirty-two driver league, especially one as supposedly prestigious as IndyCar, right? Right?

OK, I have to admit: I know nothing about IndyCar racing. I don't even really care that much. But I DO care about what is sexy, and in the name of defending that which is reasonably sexy, I'm willing to go out on a limb and say Gregg Doyel is full of crap. Crap I say!

To be fair, Doyel does deal with this later in his article, where he basically says only seventeen people really race in IndyCar and that being seventh out of seventeen makes you mediocre. Whatever. Being seventh best in a premiere racing league still means she's competing on a par with men in a men's league, which I think means it's valid to find her story compelling. Certainly, I see no need to write a long, drawn-out attack against her. And neither does Gregg, because he's about to make one massive right turn into Tangent Town. Gregg?

This could change, but as of now Patrick barely deserves to be called an athlete. She's certainly not Anna Kournikova, another sex object from the sports world who was mocked for never winning a tournament in her eight years on tour. That's a lie, by the way. Kournikova won 16 doubles events, including two majors. If you're going to tell me that her regular partner, Martina Hingis, carried her to most of those titles, I'd counter with a question: When Leander Paes and Mahesh Bhupathi were dominating in men's doubles a decade ago, who carried whom?

Now that's a great question. I've got some more!

1. When Jesse Block and Eva Sully were dominating husband-and-wife Vaudeville comedy acts in 1930s New York City, who carried whom?
2. When Brent Goldberg and David T. Wagner were writing the acclaimed screenplay for National Lampoon's Van Wilder, who carried whom?
3. When Quintus Fulvius Flacus III and Appius Claudius Pulcher were dominating the Roman consulship in 212 BC, who carried whom?
4. When Bill Oakley and Josh Weinstein were showrunning The Simpsons, who carried whom?
5. When Spider-Man and Killraven dominated the Martians in Marvel Team-Up #45, who carried whom?

The answers, of course, are that they were all equally codependent, except for Spider-Man, who quite clearly was carrying Killraven against the Martians. (Incidentally, it is my sincerest hope that the only comments I get pertain to my unprovoked attack against Killraven. Make it happen, people.)

Doubles tennis is the second thing in this post that I gleefully know nothing about, but I will point something out that may or may not have anything to do with anything...

Singles career of Laender Paes: Runner-up in four majors, won one career title, highest ranking ever no. 73
Singles career of Mahesh Bhupathi: Never got past the second round in any majors, no career titles, highest ranking ever no. 217

Singles career of Anna Kournikova: Once reached the semifinals of Wimbledon, no career titles, highest ranking ever no. 8
Singles career of Martina Hingis: Won five majors, 45 career titles, highest ranking ever no. 1

A couple things strike me - one, Laender Paes was clearly carrying Mahesh Bhupathi, and two, this is a really silly comparison. Gregg Doyel is comparing two very mediocre (and that's being charitable to Bhupathi) singles players who combined for an unstoppable doubles team. That doesn't illuminate anything about a pairing of an above-average player (Kournikova) and all-time great (Hingis).

Doyel goes on to make some arguments that Kournikova was actually underrated as a player, which I actually find relatively interesting because I'm always intrigued by unconventional wisdom, especially when it involves giving credit to people who are sexy (I only read Moneyball because I like getting lost in Scott Hatteberg's eyes). But his argument is so shoddy and anecdotal and generally unconvincing that I remain unmoved. Also...

What the hell is this article supposed to be about? Oh, that's right, Danica Patrick, and how Gregg Doyel thinks she's a total hussy. The rest of the article is basically a long-winded description of her spread in the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue and her disgustingly sexy answers in an interview in the same issue.

There she is, peeling off her racecar suit to reveal the bikini. In another she turns to the camera so we can see her rear end as she holds a racing helmet. In another she's pouring out of her racing suit as she lies in the sand. And finally there's a full-page photo of her wearing only her bikini bottom -- no racing suit, no helmet, no bikini top. She's covering her breasts with her left hand while lips part suggestively and her right hand fluffs up her flowing mane of silky brown hair and ...

Ahem.

I think that Gregg Doyel is going to the trouble of writing he's aroused by all this as part of a clever ploy to concede that yes, these photos are having their intended effect on red-blooded American men like Gregg Doyel. But really it just makes him sound like a vaguely puritanical moron who, having awoken from his five-decade cryogenic slumber, still finds the swimsuit issue the height of public erotica when I'm pretty sure googling ANY word in the English language will, within twenty hits, provide you with more shocking images than that (although any of you poor fools who google "tadpole" have only yourselves to blame). Also, this passage forced me to imagine Gregg Doyel aroused, and there are certain things you just can't unsee.

On the back page, an interview with Patrick is wrapped around a photo of her sitting on a bed, covering her presumably full-frontal nudity with a pillow. In that story Patrick says she hasn't seen the swimsuit edition yet and asks her interviewer if she's on the cover. (No.) She asks if she was given a pull-out centerfold. (No.) She hints that she has raced nude under her racing suit -- underwear "gets in the way," she says -- and she says she'd like to see fellow drivers Tony Kanaan and Helio Castroneves in swimsuits.

Huh...she sounds like fun. Is this going anywhere? Incidentally, since I know Danica is reading this blog, I'm more than happy to oblige on the Helio front. No luck with Mr. Kanaan, unfortunately. Dude must be a prude or something.

Also, I'm really glad all this criticism is coming from a guy who very clearly has a horny high schooler's (in other words, a high schooler's) view of anatomy:

She can take off her clothes for Sports Illustrated and appear in a GoDaddy.com commercial where an actual beaver is used as a euphemism for, well, you know what a beaver is a euphemism for.

Heh, heh...heh. Man, I miss all the best commercials when I don't own a TV. Gregg, it's called "a vagina", and everybody's got one...well, except dudes, of course. They have...well, I believe the term you prefer is "man-a-ram."

Over the years Patrick has admitted to using sex to sell herself. "It really doesn't matter to me," she has said. "Whatever sells tickets. Whatever brings them back. ... I use my femininity, which is nothing that hasn't happened before and nothing I'm opposed to. I want more TV viewers, too, and I want more fans in the Indy Racing League."

Terrific. She'll get what she wants. Every time she drops her trousers, a few more men will tune in to watch. But as her novelty on the track wears off and her desperation for a headline increases, how low will those trousers go?

Oh, I get it - this is really all about protecting Danica from herself. Gregg Doyel has seen one too many starlets flame out and flame away - it was one of the Spears sisters that finally did it, he's not sure which - and now he's going to save them all from their wanton sexuality and savvy self-marketing. Gregg Doyel: moral defender, American hero.

At this point I'm wondering what we're going to see first from Danica Patrick:

Her car in Victory Lane ... or the beaver.

I am SO glad this guy is a self-appointed moral arbiter. And I am SO glad this is my first post.