Fallen Light

I set out this morning for an image that would serve as a metaphor for the thoughts that I have towards the fall of a supposed legend, Lance Armstrong. Finally, formally and admittedly, he has fallen to the deepest depths of darkness, mystery and miscomprehension this week. This image fits well with my feelings surrounding the epic crash of Lance Armstrong.

How does one man live a lie for thirteen years? How can one, every day for thirteen years, look in the mirror or look into the eyes of his loved-ones and perpetuate this lie? How can one repeatedly look into the lens of a video camera or shake the hands of their Livestrong members saying, "The record speaks for itself".

I do not think it is possible to do such without a hollow heart and a complete lack of moral fiber in one's body. I do not understand what has happened here. And the fact that he crushed the lives of anyone who dared to challenge the voracity of his claims, including his teammates, makes him a modern day Al Capone on a bike. I find the whole thing unimaginable. And I find Lance's quest for redemption and the right to compete again laughable. It is the equivalent of trying to put out a fire that you have started long after the building has already burnt to the ground. Equally laughable was his defense: "It was part of the sport, no different than air in the tires". Oh please, does that make it right? Does your quest for wealth, winning and fame justify your means?

Wrong is wrong is wrong: There are no excuses and there are no reasons.

Sorry for the rant, but I wanted this Armstrong fairytale to end true.