A beautiful performance, tarnished

Did you happen to see the opening ceremony of the Olympic Games? I hadn't given much thought to watching it until my mother-in-law turned it on. Immediately, the performance was riveting. What looked like hundreds of boxes, representing the invention of movable type, flowed up and down into patterns, shapes, and the Chinese character for 'harmony'. At first I marveled at the discipline of the men who must certainly be lifting the boxes in precise rhythm. But as the segment wore on, I became convinced that only machines could be moving the boxes at such length and speed. When, at the end, men appeared from the boxes waving enthusiastically, I was amazed. I nearly cried from the beauty of it.

Then the rest of my dear family joined us. At the end I still felt like crying, but for a completely different reason. Christian and Josh took every opportunity to rant maniacally about the evils of communism and its manifestation in the ceremony. Each flourish of a dancer or measured movement of a Tai Chi master became a subversive message about the 'motherland'. The music and commentary were drowned out by the din of their ranting and our loud pleas for them to be quiet--pleas which were completely unheeded, as you might have guessed. I suppose they enjoyed the irritation they caused us more than anything.

There's a time and a place for anti-communist ranting, don't get me wrong. I just didn't think it was right then.