Magazine article The Spectator

Real Life

Magazine article The Spectator

Real Life

Article excerpt

On your marks . . . get set . . . bah humbug!

They can keep their Olympic traffic lanes and their Olympic copyright laws preventing me from cooking five fried eggs and placing them in an interlinking pattern on my breakfast plate - although I just did, so there.

I also arranged the apples into Olympic ring formation in the fruit bowl, now in a prominent location in the window of my front room. My plan was to call the London 2012 authorities to turn myself in and become an Olympic martyr but I didn't have time to hang on the phone, so if you are reading this, 2012 people, please contact me to let me know how you wish to proceed.

Also, and this is really weird, I notice that someone - or something - has been putting sticky wine glasses down on the kitchen table and the resulting pattern is, you guessed it, a perfectly formed Olympic logo.

Obviously, the spirits are angry. The souls of the departed are rising up to fight for our right to make whatever the hell we like into five flipping rings.

The marketing baloney isn't the worst thing about the Olympics, mind you. The worst thing is all the 'respect' and 'diversity'.

I thought sporting events were about winners beating losers but apparently they are about athletes and spectators alike respecting each other whilst also safeguarding each other's diversity.

It is beyond my wildest nightmare.

According to the boyfriend, I toss and turn in my sleep murmuring 'Legacy. Renewal. Sustainable. Respect. Diversity. Renewal.

Legacy. Aaagh!'

Have you seen the London 2012 website?

Oh, the horror. At one point the organisers claim to be 'inspiring and engaging young people across the globe with new learning resources'.

This could mean they are giving out pencils in Bogota. Actually, good on them if they are. But if you are giving out pencils in Bogota, say you are giving out pencils in Bogota. Don't say you are inspiring and engaging young people across the globe with new learning resources.

I can't stand it. I've got to get out.

I've got to get out before I catch a glimpse of the Olympic stadium decked out in Danny Boyle's fake English rural idyll, all cows and sheep and diversely picnicking public sector workers.

I've got to get myself to a real rural idyll where nobody respects anyone and a rich housewife would happily trample you to death in Waitrose to get to the last packet of Lavazza. …

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