So tomorrow is the kick-off.
For what seems like an eternity the British Meeja and in particular the Beeb have been trying to whip us up into a frenzy of anticipation for the Olympic Games. All the advertisers seem to think that one mention of the games is going to boost their clients’ sales a hundredfold.
They must be the most hyped, most touted games in the history of the world.
Am I excited?
Am I goggle-eyed with anticipation?
Have I booked my seat in front of the television for the duration?
Have I fuck!
They haven’t even started yet and already I am bored out of my skull.
I am grateful that I don’t have to pay towards them. My sympathies go to the Brits who do. I also extend my sympathies to all the Londoners who apparently are going to be shut out of their own city.
I am in the fortunate position of being able to ignore the most boring, tedious spectacle in the world. Once I steer clear of the television, the radio and the printed Meeja I can ignore them, which I fully intend to do. The whole concept of watching people run around in circles leaves me breathless with boredom. I don’t care whether it is running, swimming, gymnastics or throwing things around the place; it is by far less interesting that watching the proverbial paint dry. I don’t give a flying fuck whether Ireland wins a hundred medals or none.
Should I require some visual chewing-gum by way of the television I shall recourse to those satellite channels which shall mercifully be showing repeats of the repeats they repeated last week. Thank God for technology.
Anyway, how can anyone take seriously an event which has Lisa Simpson giving Bart a blow-job for its symbol?