Not gonna embrace all of Johnny’s silliness, and I can’t ignore his irresponsibility with respect to wearing fur, nor do I agree “he wuz robbed” by the judges.

But for the first time during this whole overdone, and certainly over-commercialized, week of Olympic spectacle, with all the flag waving and all the heartwarming interstitial backstories, with all the drama real and imagined, I stood up and cheered for one ofmy people last night.

Finally, Johnny Weir is here! He is wearing a costume that conjures a
late night vampire raid on Frederick’s of Hollywood. His neckline ends
somewhere around his bellybutton. He has a slit in one arm, and a pink
tassel on one shoulder. His hair is elaborately styled. His torso is
corset-like, with bubble-gum pink threads criss-crossing. Ahh, Johnny.
The outfit is frankly awful, but how do you not root for the man who
ignores the conventions of his hopelessly conventional sport, and claims
to be a role model for freaks?

Weir nails his first jump combination. Yes! Nails his triple axel!
Yes! Nails his last jump! Hurray! Now it’s time for the pouty faces and
the jazz hands and the come-hither looks, all of which he masters. Great
spins, great choreography, and ends with a kiss blown to the judges.
“He rocked the tassel!” blurts Hamilton.

The video (not embeddable) from last night in Vancouver ishere. The one below, from the US Championships, features the same routine and costume.