So, off we go again.The same mind-numbingly boring universal coverage of skimpily-dressed people running around tossing lumps of metal and performing circus tricks.
Is there anyone who actually cares about the fact that someone can run faster than someone else? Are there people out there desperate to know the latest news about synchronised swimming or shooting in the ’10-metre airgun’ contest? Who stays up all night to see if Afghanistan comes 43rd in the ping-pong, or if the Patagonians qualify for the hop, skip and jump finals?
Remember, among the ‘heroes’ we are supposed to idolise are people who spend years being handsomely paid to continually practice the high jump whilst earning a fortune advertising the current rate of interest on bank accounts, fruit yogurt, or baked beans, or…whatever.
Was television invented so that we could sit on a couch watching a large group of people running around and around a track for no better reason than coming first? On completion, we are then treated to a display of leaping and air punching as if he or she has just discovered the structure of dark matter, or the cure for dandruff.
Even better, we can see them presented with a medallion made of politically-correct reprocessed corned-beef tins suspended from a ribbon woven from recycled socks and carpets.
If they are British, they will probably be awarded with, at least, a dukedom.
‘Team GB’ entered the arena with a tennis player carrying the Union Flag whose support for Scottish independence would lead to the break-up of Great Britain. All ‘GB’ participants have been issued with Union Flag cushions and doormats in order to show their respect for …. Great Britain.
Of course, the opening ceremony then reminded us that carbon dioxide was poisonous, whereas we all thought that it was a vital gas without which life cannot exist.
Regardless this, all 366 British contestants burned their share of fossil fuel flying across the Atlantic along with 467 support staff, 121 Swedish kettles, 5,500 teabags, and 249 sofas.
The whole thing has become a world-wide version of the Eurovision Song Contest – without the chuckles.
E C Coleman (prospective Olympian for rhythmic gymnastics – failed)