Netflix' "Icarus"--Why I won't watch it

In the first place, I'm not even a little bit concerned about, or at all interested in, "doping in amateur sports." For that matter, I'm really not interested in amateur sports--and I might venture that anybody who is interested in amateur sports who is not actually an amateur who plays the sport he's interested in is an obsessive idiot--unless he's a fan, as I am, of peewee baseball. That said, in the very first place, the subject of doping in amateur sports is a non-subject, which those who are most hysterically fixated on make up their definition of as they "explain" it (and therewith, simultaneously, invent it).  The very word "doping," is absurdly ambiguous.  Do you mean "doping with performance-enhancing drugs"? Aspirin?  Amphetamines?  Cannabinoids?  Mescalin? Antibiotics? Ritalin? Well, speaking of my all-time favorite amateur sport, peewee baseball, should six-year-olds be allowed to drink coffee (before a game)?  How about hot chocolate?  It might very well depend on whether the game were to be played in the Netherlands or not. In any case, if you please, Richard Nixon and Nancy Reagan are dead, and with them, thankfully, also long since dead, and not resuscitable, is their characteristically imbecilic and boundlessly ignorant twattle about "drugs."

In the second place, I am not at all concerned with (though I quite understand--and despise) the desperate search that the morons (or, should I say? the malevolent assholes) who constitute the Deep State of America, and who like to think they dictate Foreign Policy, are launched on to find a Casus Belli for their transparently, utterly contrived New Cold War with Russia. Anything, apparently, will do.  And the New York Times (which has given us so many bloody but otherwise fictive wars since the end of the last, real one) will second it.