The year 2000 is divisible by four, and we all know what that means. Presidential elections, leap years and the Olympics. That's right. The modern Olympics. What follows are my notes on the Games, arranged in no particular order.

Here's all you really need to know: all the nations of the world gather together once every four years in some under-appreciated metropolis hoping to become "world class," under the vaguely unsettling, long-debunked, ultra-nationalistic principle of one nation, one people, one team. This is incidentally the same principle that led the Germans and the English to play soccer on Christmas Day, 1914 in the no-man's-land of the western front. The next day the went back to killing each other and getting eaten by rats, guided by the same principle. This principle, slightly modified, was called fascism in World War II. In fact, Hitler himself lit the torch in the Berlin Games of '36. By 1940 the Games had been postponed. Why sport, when you can just kill? Total war. Yes! Germany gets the Gold.

It all started back in 1896, when some guy whose name is not important enough to look up right now decided that it would be fun to create a bastardized, commercialized version of the Ancient Greeks' best excuse to get naked and wrestle. Today, Greco-Roman wresting remains, but until FOX inevitably gets the television rights we won't be able to see any of it, not even on late night.

Instead, cute Romanian pre-adolescents are permitted to warm our hearts thanks to Adidas. We watch swimming, and for some reason: Swatch! The entire concept of athleticism is made possible by Nike-fitting coming from a bastardized, commercialized Greek goddess. So this is modernity and these are the modern Games. When the strongest men and women on Earth aren't competing, they're in McDonald's drinking Coca-Cola. Important sports-related things are sent via UPS, or all the athletes are welcome to work at UPS when the Games are over, or whatever. So it goes.

This year, more athletes from around the globe are competing in more events than ever before, ranging from the extremely womanly rhythmic ball dancing to the purely absurd synchronized diving. New this year is the triathlon, which is better than the heptathlon, not as important as the decathlon, and nothing like the marathon. Biathlon? Wrong games, friend. It doesn't much matter though, as long as the good things about nationalism and capitalism are highlighted. Well, not necessarily the good things, but the fun things. Where else is American hegemony so delicious? Well, yeah, the space race. The space race goes without saying.

The space race ruled. That's what I wanted to write about, but the Olympics seemed more relevant. So that's what I'm doing. Besides, I was curious-What did kids around here really think about the Games? I decided to ask someone.

"Fuck Russia. Fuck Norway. Fuck China. Go USA!" my roommate said last Friday afternoon when I asked him. I was like "Fuckin' A," or something, and I went back to trying on my brand new sweatshop-produced clothing in the mirror. Yeah that's right. Until those developing nations start running faster than us, I'm gonna keep exploiting their slave labor. "Hey roomie, do you think this GAP hoodie looks nice?" He didn't answer. The second big weekend of the Sydney Games was coming, and he was busy preparing in his own way: downing red, white, and blue Jello shots and humming the Battle Hymn of the Republic with a kazoo-a red, white, and blue kazoo. I guess I was staring. He stopped what he was doing and looked at me with the old one-eye, preparing to speak. "We worked hard to conquer this fucking continent, you know," my roommate spoke. "Well not us. Our ancestors. Well not our ancestors, but you know what I mean. This is the Promised Land. No other team-well, maybe Israel-can say they're from the Promised Land. Besides, Israel's our bitch. USA! USA! Ronald Reagan! USA!"

In men's basketball competition last week, USA team member Vince Carter jumped over a 7-foot 2-inch French basketball player. I watched this in the Smith lounge with a freshman girl. She had been kind of quiet, until that dunk. It was as if all 300 million Americans were collectively making the nation of France our bitch. What's more, we were making her like it. Ji Chong '03 and I observed in quiet awe as the girl let out a loud, primal grunt of satisfaction and leaped from her chair. "Vince has more ups than an eight-ball of coke," she screamed. I noticed she was wearing a USA sweatshirt from the Gap. Hannah Storm came on the television. Hannah Storm is hot.

In men's swimming, those pesky Australians stole the 400-meter freestyle relay from the Americans, who had previously never lost. I have to admit, there was a lot of hubris on the part of the American team. They were saying stuff like, "The Aussies are just a super audience who just cheer for great swimming. And that's going to be us. The Aussies are going to be cheering for us." Then they lost. The Aussies cheered and cheered. For themselves. I have to give it to them, the Olympic Spirit is alive and well in the land down under, but who are they kidding? The cards are stacked against them. Who invented the nation-state? The Spanish? Well all right, the Spanish. Well, who invented capitalism? Fine, fine, the Dutch. But who runs the world? Yeah. That's right. Just look at the medal count. If I still had my joke of the week it would be this: Q. Who do the Australians think they are? A. Americans. Give me my joke back. Please.

"In the field of its highest development, in the United States, the pursuit of wealth, stripped of its religious and ethical meaning, tends to become associated with purely mundane passions, which often actually give it the character of sport," Max Weber told me on Monday. So it makes sense that the purest expression of this moment in globalizing, capital-driven modernity is a contest of sport, symbolized by an eternal flame that goes out more than anyone would like to admit. I didn't tell Weber that, though, because he's so damn cocky. German too. But what if-just what if-we could create a multi-billion dollar, quadrennial sporting event that keeps getting bigger and bigger and not only entertains the world's capitalists through sport, which they love, but makes those fat cats some serious cash too? Wait. Wait. We already did that. It's called the Olympics. Faster, higher, stronger. It all makes sense now. This article has been brought to you by IBM, worldwide Olympic partner. Go Big Blue.