A bit of a shambles, really, coz the games stared about three days earlier, when we almost initiated Nuclear World War III by displaying the wrong Korean flag!
Anyhoo, the opening ceremony was supposed to be a celebration of Britishness. Now, impressive as it was, it did not capture the essence of Britishness.
Where was the Cup Of Tea?
Where were the Fish & Chips?
And more importantly, where was Christopher Lee, reprising his rôle as Lord Summerisle? Leading "Team GB" onto the field, dancing along in a dress, wig and painted face? Singing:
| Sumer is icumen in Lhude sing cuccu! Groweþ sed and bloweþ med And springþ þe wde nu Sing cuccu! Awe bleteþ after lomb Lhouþ after calue cu. Bulluc sterteþ, bucke uerteþ Murie sing cuccu! Cuccu, cuccu, wel singes þu cuccu; Ne swik þu nauer nu. Pes: Sing cuccu nu. Sing cuccu. Sing cuccu. Sing cuccu nu! | Summer is a-coming in, Loudly sing, cuckoo! Grows the seed and blows the mead, And springs the wood anew; Sing, cuckoo! Ewe bleats harshly after lamb, Cows after calves make moo; Bullock stamps and deer champs, Now shrilly sing, cuckoo! Cuckoo, cuckoo; Wild bird are you; Be never still, cuckoo! |
And then, the "Olympic Cauldron" could be David Cameron and Seb Coe in a Wicker Man, lit by the Olympic Torch!
Still, at least the Olympics have started in Starbucks. There's a young lady running a marathon in store. In tight lyrca leggings and a flimsy blouse.
On a treadmill.
Opposite me.
RIGHT opposite me!
Boiiiiiinnnnnng! Boiiiiiinnnnnng!! etc...
I'm ever so predictable, me...
