I’m not positive, but I think your position might be slightly one-sided. Let’s
face it, nothing, absolutely nothing is ever all good or all bad. You know the
old saw, Hitler built the Autobahns. Obviously, that fact does nothing to
diminish the unspeakable horror and evil he caused, committed, and created, but
the Autobahns are still there, and they’re great.
So the Olympic Stadium in Berlin, speaking of horrible HItler, is now a
beautiful public swimming pool and other athletic and park areas, the Olympic
village has been apartments for decades, the site of the London Olympics is
also a public park area, open to all, not sure about Munich, and I don’t know
what was razed to create these facilities in the first place, but after the
games are over, it seems that often the areas serve some public good.
And look at the opportunities for a better life for someone like Biles. Or
Dominique Marciano or whatever her name is, who also had a pretty awful life
before her triumphs at the Olympics.
I’m not arguing with you or with anything you outline, only saying that it’s
not so black and white.
How many of those displaced by Olympic construction were indeed presented with
a better alternative? Were they really all, every single one, tossed out into
the street?
I don’t know…I’m not sure any of us does.
It does seem, though, that no one is allowed to enjoy anything anymore,
though…go to the public library built by Carnegie money and be forced to think
about what a capitalist he was. Cheer for a young girl who executes a flor
exercise that makes one’s mouth hang open in astonishment and be told it should
all not be happening because, well, fill in the blank.
I agree that the whole big business of the whole thing turns my stomach, too.
The fat cats are getting rich off of this. So what else is new? What is there
on this whole earth that the fat cats don’t get rich from and exploit? Look at
the corruption that plagues every Olympics, look at what went on with Romney’s
turn at at…but if it were all shut down, what would happen to all these young
athletes, many from third world nations, young starry-eyed, disciplined,
dedicated athletes who work their asses off for years for these games? There
was a story on the rightward moving NPR about, I think it was the Nigerian
baseball team, that had some horrific travel experiences, I forget the details.
They arrived about tw hours or so before their game with Japan, and they won.
Were they happy as individual athletes? Sure. Were they happy as Nigerians?
Sure. Does that mean they hate the Japanese? Of course not.
I really have more questions than answers here.
On Aug 11, 2016, at 11:51 AM, Miriam Vieni <miriamvieni@xxxxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:
I have to say that I'm amazed at all you folks who are so avowedly anti
Capitalist, being swept up by this very Capitalist extravaganza. I value
sports, as much as anyone, because participating gives people an opportunity
to use their talents to the fullest, to excel, to express their
individuality. But has the way in which sports has become so financialized
escaped you? Have you ever listened to Dave Zirin on Democracy Now or read
his articles in The Nation? He's a sports enthusiast, but he always talks
about sports within a social and economic context. In how many cities are
new stadiums built with public money when the old ones were fine? And the
new stadiums with sky boxes for millionaires and little seating for working
people? Working people are supposed to watch on TV so that the cable
companies get their money and so that they can be bombarded with
advertisements. Of course, those people at home can buy devices to record
games and omit commercials. In that case, their money goes to the
manufacturers of the devices. The people who make the devices are slave or
sweatshop laborers somewhere in the third world. And the Olympics? In every
city where they take place, are you not aware of the displacement of homes
and businesses in order to build structures for the Olympics which the
citizens pay for and which may be of no use when the Olympics are finished?
Do you know how many millions of dollars Brazil is paying for militarized
security so that the wealthy people who attend the games will feel safe?
Somehow, the glamour and the pageantry and the thype have managed to
overcome all this talk about the ruling class and the struggles of the
workers. Those appealing images that appear in Frank Rooney's column that
Alice posted, can exist without plunder and greed. Young people can win
races without making poor people homeless. But I suppose that if people
happily watch football games every week with no thought to brain trauma,
there's no reason for them not to enjoy the Olympics with no thought of
social trauma.
Miriam
-----Original Message-----
From: blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
[mailto:blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx] On Behalf Of Carl Jarvis
Sent: Thursday, August 11, 2016 10:06 AM
To: blind-democracy@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [blind-democracy] Re: Brazil's Olympic Calamity
This is a "right on" article. If you need an uplift, go to the Olympic
Channel and breathe in some fresh air.
Carl Jarvis
On 8/11/16, Alice Dampman Humel <alicedh@xxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:
OP-ED COLUMNIST. The Crying Games. By FRANK BRUNI. Somewhere betweenmorning, and I was telling someone what he'd missed on Sunday night:
the Zika stories, the doping stories and the stories about what a
fetid, toxic swamp Rio really is, I got the message: I was supposed to
feel cynical about these Olympics, the way we feel cynical about
pretty much everything these days.. I was supposed to marvel at our
talent for making messes, cutting corners, evading responsibility,
procrastinating. Rio was a testament to that, both as the host of the
Games and as a sublime, wretched theater of humanity. All the promises
we fail to keep, all the plans that go awry: They were and would be on
vivid display. I was supposed to shake my head in disgust. Sigh in
frustration. Instead I cried, and I mean good tears. It was Monday
how the American swimmer Michael Phelps defied age and his own stabsimagine. They took risks, big ones. And they pressed on, because there was
at self-destruction to swim toward yet another gold, in a men's relay.
How the American gymnast Simone Biles, in the team qualifying round,
responded to the gaudy expectations for her not by crumbling but by
meeting, even surpassing, every one of them. And then there was that
tiny wisp of a Brazilian girl -- 4-foot-4, 16 years old -- who floated
onto the balance beam, whirled the length of it and turned in a near
perfect routine that no one expected. The roar from her hometown crowd
was so loud, so true, that I'm certain it crossed time zones. I bet it
traversed the stratosphere. No lottery winner, no matter the purse,
has ever matched the glow of elation on her face. I hadn't even
reached the part about the British gymnast who tumbled onto her head,
stood up dazed and kept on going when I myself had to stop, because I
was suddenly so choked up that I couldn't get another word out. Don't
tell me what's wrong with the Olympics. Let me tell you what's right
with them. In a world rife with failure and bitter compromise, they're
dedicated to dreaming and to the proposition that limits are entirely
negotiable, because they reflect only what has been done to date and
not what's doable in time. They make the case that part of being fully
alive is pushing yourself as far as you can go. Every Olympic record,
every personal best and every unlikely comeback is an individual
achievement, yes, but it's also a universal example and metaphor. The
swimmer Dana Vollmer, a gold medalist in 2012, stopped training,
became a mother and attended to her newborn. But the pool still
beckoned, and last weekend, just 17 months after giving birth, she won
a silver and a bronze in Rio. Good for her. Good for all women who
don't want to obey some timeline that they never signed on to or stay
in a box of someone else's construction. These champions usually
aren't children of extreme privilege. Biles was separated from her
mother, who battled drug and alcohol addiction, at an early age.
Others had worse odds and more daunting setbacks. But they had a drive
more powerful than that. They swapped resentment for goals. And they
worked. By God, did they work. We tend to marvel at their freakish
gifts, but we should marvel even more at their freakish devotion.
That's what made the difference. They invested hour upon hour, day
after day. They sacrificed idle time and other pursuits. They honed a
confidence that eludes most of us and summoned a poise that we can only
this thing that they wanted so very, very badly and the only way to know if
they could get it was to put everything on the line.
I'm no na? f. I know that there's another, darker side to this -- thatof stone. I invite you to follow me on Twitter (@FrankBruni) and join me on
some of them are overly preoc'cup'ied with fame, with riches. At least
they're earning it. I know that there are flaws in the system, even
corruption. I'm reading and I'm hearing plenty about that, about the
inane remarks that NBC's commentators have made, and about the
excessive commercial breaks that the network builds into the
prime-time telecast. A certain crassness and greed have taken over.
It's true. But I fear that with the Olympics, as with so much else,
we've let the language of complaint supplant the language of wonder,
and there's wonder aplenty here. Just watch Phelps kick or Biles vault
heavenward, a force of will seemingly bound for the stars. Just think
about what it means to aim that high, commit that much and invite the
eyes of the world to see it all come together or all fall apart. If
that doesn't put a lump in your throat and a tear in your eye, you're made
Facebook.
Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook and Twitter
(@NYTopinion), and sign up for the Opinion Today newsletter. .
On Aug 11, 2016, at 12:26 AM, Carl Jarvis <carjar82@xxxxxxxxx> wrote:
Back in my sighted life I always took in as much of the Olympics as I
was able, what with working and family. But for many years in my
life as a blind man, I have paid little attention to the very visual
events.
This year my wife and her sister are busy recording great gobs of the
Olympics and viewing them into the wee hours of the night. Both were
very athletic in their youth, and are big time supporters of women's
events. And despite my feelings about the over production, over
commercialization that has taken over this world-wide ammeter event,
I have to say that it is so very refreshing to hear the youthful
enthusiasm and exuberance of these young men and women. I marvel
that there are still such decent sounding people growing up among
this crab grass called World Politics. I watched/listened to the
American gymnasts as they laughed and shouted upon winning the Gold.
I actually had a silly grin on my face, and a tear of joy for them in
my eye.
Carl Jarvis
On 8/10/16, Miriam Vieni <miriamvieni@xxxxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:
David Zirin's Brazil's Dance With The Devil is on Bookshare. It is
fascinating and disturbing reading. Thanks to whoever it was, on
this list, who mentioned it.
Miriam
Boykoff writes: "It might not be captured on primetime Olympic
coverage, but Brazilians are welcoming the Games with mass protest."
Rio, Brazil. (photo: Jules Boykoff/Jacobin)
Brazil's Olympic Calamity
By Jules Boykoff, Jacobin
10 August 16
It might not be captured on primetime Olympic coverage, but
Brazilians are welcoming the Games with mass protest.
When Brazil’s interim president Michel Temer announced the opening
of the
2016 Rio Summer Olympics on Friday, he was met with boos. Speaking
as fast as a voiceover at the end of a pharmaceutical commercial, it
was an awkward scene. The choreographers of the ceremony launched
fireworks to mask the crowd’s disdain, but discontent with the
Olympics extends far beyond Maracanã Stadium. While smiley-faced
Games-goers fill the Olympic suites, thousands of Brazilians are
taking to the streets.
This was obvious as the Olympic torch made its way toward the ceremony.
In
Angra dos Reis, protesters even managed to extinguish the flame,
forcing torchbearers to scurry to safer havens in a nearby van. In
Duque de Caixas, just north of Rio, demonstrators pelted
torchbearers with stones before cops responded with rubber bullets
and pepper spray.
Once the torch arrived in Rio, protesters came out in droves. So did
the police, who used tear gas and stun grenades to slice a route for
it to pass.
When the torch whisked past me at Praça Mauá, I could barely see it
behind a wall of military police.
One torchbearer, Tarcisio Carlo Rodrigues Gomes, even used his
moment in the spotlight to protest. After finishing his shift, he
yanked down his shorts, revealing leopard-print underwear and the
words “Fora Temer” (“Temer
Out”)
scrawled on his butt cheeks in bright white paint.
“Fora Temer” was the rallying cry of an enormous mobilization along
Copacabana Beach on August 5, the morning of the opening ceremony.
Brazil’s
president is extremely unpopular in Brazil, with one recent poll
putting his approval rating at 11 percent.
As Glenn Greenwald and Eric Lau recently pointed out in the
Intercept, Temer is accused of a staggering array of bribery schemes
— he couldn’t run for president even if he wanted to, thanks to the
recent ban he received for violating campaign finance laws.
Protesters along Copacabana highlighted all this and more. Unions,
workers, students, pensioners, feminist organizations, housing
activists, indigenous peoples, and anti-Olympics stalwarts joined
forces to create a massive throng that pulsed with creativity. The
protest, which drew fifteen thousand people, was coordinated by
worker and leftist groups, including Brasil Popular, Esquerda
Socialista, and Povo Sem Medo.
The mood was festive. A small orchestra played a version of “Carmina
Burana”
with uproarious “Fora Temer” lyrics. Activists from the Comitê
Popular da Copa e das Olimpíadas (The Popular Committee of the World
Cup and Olympics), who have long been protesting against the
mega-event machine, carried a banner reading “#CalamidadeOlímpica”
(“#OlympicCalamity”). The Corrente Socialista dos Trabalhadores, a
socialist workers’ group, wielded a sign that read, “Não a
Olimpíadas” (“No to the Olympics”).
Many activists connected the Olympic dots between the wider
political crisis and the Olympic Games. Some wore t-shirts bearing
the Olympic rings filled in by the letters G-O-L-P-E (C-O-U-P).
Numerous flags read “Fora Temer”
with
the Olympic rings standing in for the “o” on “Fora.”
One man held a cardboard sign with the handwritten phrases “Rio2016
Coup / We’re Not Happy / Fora Temer” written on it. Another activist
walked around with homemade Olympic rings connected with metal
wiring featuring a photo of Temer and the moniker “golpista.” At one
point protesters took over the site of the official Olympic rings on
Copacabana Beach, snapping photographs with their “Fora Temer” signs
in hand while Olympic tourists stood by in bewilderment.
Other activists seized the Olympic moment, writing signs in English
for the global media to read. One said, “We don’t want a torch / We
want out homes!”
The lack of housing in Rio, as well as the brass-knuckle evictions
that the Games galvanized, were major themes. On the beach,
protesters from Jogos da Exclusão (Exclusion Games) set up a shrine
highlighting displacement, with messaging in both Portuguese and
English.
Standing nearby, one demonstrator told me it was ironic that while
the team of Olympic refugee athletes was being widely celebrated,
the Rio Games had created numerous internal refugees, displaced in
the name of five-ring profit-making.
Later, as the opening ceremony unfolded, Bloomberg journalist Tariq
Panja put a fine point on it, tweeting: “Perhaps the former
residents of Vila Autodromo will be invited to join the Olympic
Refugee Team at Tokyo 2020.”
Vila Autódromo is one favela community that found itself in front of
the Olympic steamroller.
The afternoon brought another sizable mobilization, this one more
focused on the Olympics under the banner Jogos da Exclusão. Around a
thousand activists gathered at Praça Sáenz Peña, located close to
the Maracanã. During the
2014
World Cup final, the same square was the site of brutal police
repression of protesters who raised questions about hosting the
world’s soccer jamboree on the public dime.
Urban geographer Chris Gaffney attended both mobilizations.
Crystallizing a critique bubbling through the afternoon protest, he
told me, “As Rio is glittering before the world, it has handed over
the city to the International Olympic Committee [IOC] and private
interests at the expense of taking care of the basic needs of the
population.” He added, “The Exclusion Games protest was a clear note
in a cacophonic symphony of destruction that has defined Rio’s
mega-event preparations over the past decade.”
Whereas the police presence at the Fora Temer protest was relatively
light, it was unmistakably intense in the afternoon event. Emerging
from the metro station and into the praça, I was met with a wall of
police decked out in riot gear. Periodically they would move about
in lockstep formation, an arm latched to the shoulder of the cop in
front of them. Other security officials encircled the square. Later,
busloads of additional riot police arrived. At one point a police
helicopter circled overhead.
When the protest transformed into a street march, cops created a
tight envelope around the marchers, keeping a special eye on
activists using black-bloc tactics, who at one point burned a flag
bearing the Olympic rings. Halfway through the march, a squadron
appeared on horses, channeling the flow of the protest march.
Police presence in Brazil is no trivial matter. Amnesty
International recently reported that in the months leading up to the
Games, Rio de Janeiro has seen a 103 percent increase in police
killings. Since Rio was awarded the Games back in 2009, security
officials in have killed more than 2,600 people. Ahead of the Games,
activists delivered a strong message to Rio organizers, placing
forty body bags on their front stoop, reflecting the number of
people killed by police in May alone.
A majority of the victims of police violence are young cariocas of
color.
Amnesty International found that between 2010 and 2013, 79 percent
of those killed by on-duty police officers in Rio were black and 75
percent were young, between fifteen and twenty-nine years old.
Activists taking to the streets during the opening ceremony were
fully aware of this history. Numerous chants alluded to police
violence. One massive banner read, “Abaixo o massacre olímpico!” and
then in English, “No to the Olympic massacre!” Although some minor
skirmishes emerged, and cops used pepper spray and tear gas on
protesters at Praça Afonso Pena, the march went relatively smoothly.
At the protest Brazilian human rights lawyer Andrea Florence told
me, “The Olympic Games promised to promote a peaceful society,
social inclusion, and human dignity. What we have seen in Rio is the
complete opposite . . .
The
protest highlights what happens when the Olympics come to town.”
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valid.
Rio, Brazil. (photo: Jules Boykoff/Jacobin)
https://www.jacobinmag.com/2016/08/olympics-protests-rio-temer-coup-
brazil/h
ttps://www.jacobinmag.com/2016/08/olympics-protests-rio-temer-coup-b
razil/
Brazil's Olympic Calamity
By Jules Boykoff, Jacobin
10 August 16
It might not be captured on primetime Olympic coverage, but
Brazilians are welcoming the Games with mass protest.
hen Brazil’s interim president Michel Temer announced the opening of
the
2016 Rio Summer Olympics on Friday, he was met with boos. Speaking
as fast as a voiceover at the end of a pharmaceutical commercial, it
was an awkward scene. The choreographers of the ceremony launched
fireworks to mask the crowd’s disdain, but discontent with the
Olympics extends far beyond Maracanã Stadium. While smiley-faced
Games-goers fill the Olympic suites, thousands of Brazilians are
taking to the streets.
This was obvious as the Olympic torch made its way toward the ceremony.
In
Angra dos Reis, protesters even managed to extinguish the flame,
forcing torchbearers to scurry to safer havens in a nearby van. In
Duque de Caixas, just north of Rio, demonstrators pelted
torchbearers with stones before cops responded with rubber bullets
and pepper spray.
Once the torch arrived in Rio, protesters came out in droves. So did
the police, who used tear gas and stun grenades to slice a route for
it to pass.
When the torch whisked past me at Praça Mauá, I could barely see it
behind a wall of military police.
One torchbearer, Tarcisio Carlo Rodrigues Gomes, even used his
moment in the spotlight to protest. After finishing his shift, he
yanked down his shorts, revealing leopard-print underwear and the
words “Fora Temer” (“Temer
Out”)
scrawled on his butt cheeks in bright white paint.
“Fora Temer” was the rallying cry of an enormous mobilization along
Copacabana Beach on August 5, the morning of the opening ceremony.
Brazil’s
president is extremely unpopular in Brazil, with one recent poll
putting his approval rating at 11 percent.
As Glenn Greenwald and Eric Lau recently pointed out in the
Intercept, Temer is accused of a staggering array of bribery schemes
— he couldn’t run for president even if he wanted to, thanks to the
recent ban he received for violating campaign finance laws.
Protesters along Copacabana highlighted all this and more. Unions,
workers, students, pensioners, feminist organizations, housing
activists, indigenous peoples, and anti-Olympics stalwarts joined
forces to create a massive throng that pulsed with creativity. The
protest, which drew fifteen thousand people, was coordinated by
worker and leftist groups, including Brasil Popular, Esquerda
Socialista, and Povo Sem Medo.
The mood was festive. A small orchestra played a version of “Carmina
Burana”
with uproarious “Fora Temer” lyrics. Activists from the Comitê
Popular da Copa e das Olimpíadas (The Popular Committee of the World
Cup and Olympics), who have long been protesting against the
mega-event machine, carried a banner reading “#CalamidadeOlímpica”
(“#OlympicCalamity”). The Corrente Socialista dos Trabalhadores, a
socialist workers’ group, wielded a sign that read, “Não a
Olimpíadas” (“No to the Olympics”).
Many activists connected the Olympic dots between the wider
political crisis and the Olympic Games. Some wore t-shirts bearing
the Olympic rings filled in by the letters G-O-L-P-E (C-O-U-P).
Numerous flags read “Fora Temer”
with
the Olympic rings standing in for the “o” on “Fora.”
One man held a cardboard sign with the handwritten phrases “Rio2016
Coup / We’re Not Happy / Fora Temer” written on it. Another activist
walked around with homemade Olympic rings connected with metal
wiring featuring a photo of Temer and the moniker “golpista.” At one
point protesters took over the site of the official Olympic rings on
Copacabana Beach, snapping photographs with their “Fora Temer” signs
in hand while Olympic tourists stood by in bewilderment.
Other activists seized the Olympic moment, writing signs in English
for the global media to read. One said, “We don’t want a torch / We
want out homes!”
The lack of housing in Rio, as well as the brass-knuckle evictions
that the Games galvanized, were major themes. On the beach,
protesters from Jogos da Exclusão (Exclusion Games) set up a shrine
highlighting displacement, with messaging in both Portuguese and
English.
Standing nearby, one demonstrator told me it was ironic that while
the team of Olympic refugee athletes was being widely celebrated,
the Rio Games had created numerous internal refugees, displaced in
the name of five-ring profit-making.
Later, as the opening ceremony unfolded, Bloomberg journalist Tariq
Panja put a fine point on it, tweeting: “Perhaps the former
residents of Vila Autodromo will be invited to join the Olympic
Refugee Team at Tokyo 2020.”
Vila Autódromo is one favela community that found itself in front of
the Olympic steamroller.
The afternoon brought another sizable mobilization, this one more
focused on the Olympics under the banner Jogos da Exclusão. Around a
thousand activists gathered at Praça Sáenz Peña, located close to
the Maracanã. During the
2014
World Cup final, the same square was the site of brutal police
repression of protesters who raised questions about hosting the
world’s soccer jamboree on the public dime.
Urban geographer Chris Gaffney attended both mobilizations.
Crystallizing a critique bubbling through the afternoon protest, he
told me, “As Rio is glittering before the world, it has handed over
the city to the International Olympic Committee [IOC] and private
interests at the expense of taking care of the basic needs of the
population.” He added, “The Exclusion Games protest was a clear note
in a cacophonic symphony of destruction that has defined Rio’s
mega-event preparations over the past decade.”
Whereas the police presence at the Fora Temer protest was relatively
light, it was unmistakably intense in the afternoon event. Emerging
from the metro station and into the praça, I was met with a wall of
police decked out in riot gear. Periodically they would move about
in lockstep formation, an arm latched to the shoulder of the cop in
front of them. Other security officials encircled the square. Later,
busloads of additional riot police arrived. At one point a police
helicopter circled overhead.
When the protest transformed into a street march, cops created a
tight envelope around the marchers, keeping a special eye on
activists using black-bloc tactics, who at one point burned a flag
bearing the Olympic rings. Halfway through the march, a squadron
appeared on horses, channeling the flow of the protest march.
Police presence in Brazil is no trivial matter. Amnesty
International recently reported that in the months leading up to the
Games, Rio de Janeiro has seen a 103 percent increase in police
killings. Since Rio was awarded the Games back in 2009, security
officials in have killed more than 2,600 people. Ahead of the Games,
activists delivered a strong message to Rio organizers, placing
forty body bags on their front stoop, reflecting the number of
people killed by police in May alone.
A majority of the victims of police violence are young cariocas of
color.
Amnesty International found that between 2010 and 2013, 79 percent
of those killed by on-duty police officers in Rio were black and 75
percent were young, between fifteen and twenty-nine years old.
Activists taking to the streets during the opening ceremony were
fully aware of this history. Numerous chants alluded to police
violence. One massive banner read, “Abaixo o massacre olímpico!” and
then in English, “No to the Olympic massacre!” Although some minor
skirmishes emerged, and cops used pepper spray and tear gas on
protesters at Praça Afonso Pena, the march went relatively smoothly.
At the protest Brazilian human rights lawyer Andrea Florence told
me, “The Olympic Games promised to promote a peaceful society,
social inclusion, and human dignity. What we have seen in Rio is the
complete opposite . . .
The
protest highlights what happens when the Olympics come to town.”
http://e-max.it/posizionamento-siti-web/socialize
http://e-max.it/posizionamento-siti-web/socialize
