Olympic

There's something about the pursuit of perfection that is inherently attractive to the human psyche. We clamor for it, chase after it, obsess over it. We bleed, sacrifice, and cry for it. The Olympics are the pinnacle of the race for perfection. Some people see the sublime in science or nature or literature. While I certainly appreciate them, there's something about the physical, that I tend to be more in awe of (sometimes.... depends on my mood). There's something about that pregnant moment, stretched thin by anticipation, when we watch and hope for a touch of the divine, that Perfection steps down from its pedestal to manifest itself before us. In that moment, when the athlete transcends the bounds of everyday human action, that we get the barest hint of what perfection might be. It's art.... it's music....... it's chocolate pudding.