End of post.

While Catalina’s attempt to explain the schematics of her plan for a space railroad may be the gold standard, Ponor is far from the only member of the “Is this…what is this?” beam hall of fame. The US system has been churning out champions left and right for years and years.

For artistry. We do so much for artistry. And has it ever said thank you? Even once? Pssh.

I mean, who can forget The Legend of Ol’ Flappy?

Fly away home, Nastia. Fly away home.

Like any great artist, she inspired a generation who wanted to be just like her.

Nope. Fallen out of the nest.

We all remember where we were the first time we saw this revelation.

Scholars have hotly debated the author’s intent in this piece since its debut, and they may never stop. Is she advertising an old-people smoothie juicer? Milking a hover-cow? Explaining how many Memmels it takes to screw in a lightbulb? (Four?) Perhaps it’s intentionally ambiguous. For art.

Again, not quite. Pull it together, Amelia.

I will admit, it is a very difficult skill. So undervalued in the code. Wieber could only pull off a half-Memmel and ultimately did not get credit for it in London.

You’ll never make a breakfast smoothie at this rate, Jordyn.

MyKayla Skinner is among the more conceptual members of the current school, and I have to say that many of her pieces are reminiscent of Yoko Ono’s early work.

This one, entitled Squash a tomato. Throw it under your armpit. Repeat until dead, is a personal favorite.

But of course her most famous piece must be Stab a boob. Take a selfie. Stab a boob. So influential.

To this day, we all lament that Alicia was driven into retirement because of inner-thigh-caress calluses. Overuse injuries, you guys. The silent killer.

Still, Alicia will only truly have left gymnastics when none remain who are loyal to the inner-thigh caress.

So, whether you’re pulling a golden sword from the heavens only to realize that it’s much, much heavier than you thought…

Or kicking open the doggie door to crawl into the kitchen in the dead of night…

Always remember the fundamental rule of attempting to look artistic on the beam.

Everybody poops.