The High-Dudgeon Olympics



                                 Fifth Annual High-Dudgeon Olympics



1) Someone-Said-Something-Wrong-On-The-Internet Typathon. (Individual and team events.)

Individuals are logged onto a Facebook account with a continuous feed of blog entries, each followed by a comment thread. Athletes must respond to as many blogs and blog comments as possible over a 24 hour period. Athletes are awarded ten points for each original response to a blog and five points for each response to a comment on a blog. All responses must be a minimum of 50 characters long, and will be verified for length before points are awarded. The athlete who accrues the most points wins. (Breaks are not permitted, and so each athlete is issued a diaper, 2 litres of water, and a protein bar.)

In the team event, three athletes work in tandem on the same Facebook feed as described in the individual event. While each athlete is permitted to post an original response to the same blog, multiple responses to the same comment on a blog are strictly prohibited. A multi-response offence will disqualify the team from the competition.


2) High-Dudgeon Cardiac Endurance Competition (HDCEC).

In our most popular event, athletes endure a gruelling 15-minute barrage by a professional offender. A panel of eight international judges then rate each athlete’s body language on a scale of one to ten, ten being a perfect score. Body language includes gestures such as fist clenching, arm waving, and head-smacking, as well as facial expressions such as grimacing, eye-rolling, and jaw-dropping. Vitals are then measured by an Olympic-certified doctor for authenticity. Additionally, 10 bonus points are awarded for fainting, and 100 bonus points for seizures. Those who experience cardiac events, i.e. heart attack or stroke, are awarded an automatic placement in the final round.  Athletes who cannot be revived are awarded a post-humus honorable mention.


3) Free-style Ranting.

Athletes deliver ten minute free-style rants on any topic. The rants are evaluated on a scale of one to ten by a panel of eight international judges. Rants are judged for individuality, creativity, audibility, and logical incoherence. Athletes who mumble for more than thirty consecutive seconds during the rant will be disqualified.


4) Synchronized Kvetching.

Teams participating in this challenging choreographed event must kvetch for a total of seven minutes without error.  Teams, comprised of three to six athletes, spend countless hours practicing. You might have noticed an Olympic team in your own hallway.


5)  Chicken-Neck Pole Vaulting.

Athletes stand beside a two-meter pole marked by one-millimetre increments. The athletes’ neck measurements are recorded on the pole by an official marker. Each athlete is then exposed to an individualized highly offensive news headline. The marker measures the athlete’s neck length at the moment of exposure. The athlete with the greatest degree of neck-lengthening wins. Instances of eye bulging and tongue protrusion will be photographed for High-Dudgeon Olympics promotional material.


Note: We are now taking nominations for the 2019 High-Dudgeon Olympics.

Coming soon …

Some philosophers and some scientists worry about people playing with Ouija boards, and some Christians worry about people playing with Ouija boards. Both species of worriers are concerned with players succumbing to ‘dark forces’; the former ‘irrationality’ and the latter ‘demonic possession’.





Just a thought.

dscf5556 While writing a paper on health and global distributive justice, it struck me that as the global population declines, if it declines, millions of homes and other structures will sit empty. Of course, this won’t be the first time in history that the remnants of  civilizations are left like bones, cleaned of flesh and animation.

But I had a strong visual of the landscape and a wave of humility as I considered the scene.

What would it have been like to walk past the empty palaces of fallen empires while the echoes of its inhabitants still ring?

I suppose the scene isn’t so alien. The village I grew up in was razed to the ground as a consequence of the changing face of the woods industry.

And so many structures are standing empty in the wake of so many wars still being fought.

Perhaps a draft has reached me through my insulation. I’m writing in a safe and quiet place. I’m on one side of a wall, and winter is on the other. I’m on one side of a wall, and the world is on another.