Watching the wrestling, I felt like I was a mere mortal, squeezed among other mere mortals, and we’d all climbed some mountain of the gods and were now watching the gods at play. Except for the mountain part. It was an explosion of strange and wonderful sights, each of which raised a question:
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| What are these children looking at? |
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| Why did this man wrap his face in blue fabric? |
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| What's with the pom-poms? |
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| Where did their heads go? |
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| Who's winning? |
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| Why the pink hearts? |
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| What's happening? |
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| Who am I supposed to be watching? |
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| What possessed this man to run around in circles? |
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| Why isn't the audience more riled up? (this one has an answer: because the fence hadn't yet caught fire.) |
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| Where am I supposed to be looking? |
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| And what's with the winter hat? |
Questions not intended for mortal minds.
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