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Submitted by on August 23, 2012 – 9:15 amOne Comment

There was one thing wrong with the lympics, the union jack waving morons. If you could wipe that out, it’d be OK.

The lympic park was very pleasant, wild meadow flowers adorned the banks of the River Lea. Marsh beds had been recreated, reeds undulated enticingly, ducks dived majestically underwater re-emerging metres away from their initial position. An idyllic country scene in the heart of east London. A shock, unexpected and delightful.

Engaging and well thought out art works splattered the park, old red telephone boxes submerged, sliced and re-worked. Waterfalls spelling out the news splashed into oblivion drowning in a sea of phonemes and graphemes. Sampled sound beating within a box responded to the touch of untold numbers, prodding, stroking, tapping and hovering over the pads that will accumulate into a cacophony of sound.

Cockneyism embedded in the shell of a telecommunication hub tells the history of a devastated and exploited end. The match girls’ strike and how Joan Littlewood was banned from the BBC for being a communist activist. She organised east enders into theatre workshops and drew working class people into the arts. Her Theatre Workshop in Stratford gained international fame and she will probably be best remembered for ‘A Taste of Honey’ and ‘Oh, What a Lovely War’.

People shout that politics should be kept out of sport. But flag waving is political, its acceptance of nation state, of nationalism over internationalism. The flag wavers joined the unity of money-grabbing exploiters and the impoverished. This is the unity of continued privilege, inequality and wage slavery.

The ironical thing about the increase in the medal total for the fat cat team is that they used the method of the old so-called socialist states of the eastern bloc. They searched out people who had the right physical form for a given sport. Long levers for high jump, short and squat for weight lifting. Once they had their desired personnel, the market was left back in the NHS. There were no trainers chasing groups of athletes offering ‘train one athlete get one trained free’ or ‘trainers-4-U.com’. Once the support team were assembled, scientists, psychologists, physiotherapists etc, the funds needed were almost endless. The lympic campaign was centrally organised and funded, scientifically determined and assessed. Entrepreneuralism and enterprise were replaced with organisation and education. Individualism was replaced by collectivism. The success of the bosses’ team was the triumph of socialist organisation. Now that is irony.

In the lympic park you had to queue up for water, I assume this is to remind us how most people in the world have to get their daily drinking water because there is no technical reason why so few water fountains, with such low pressure, which meant it took forever to fill your water bottle, were installed. There were plenty of opportunities to buy food and drink and the queues here were not that bad.

I do like watching sport and what I had always loved about the lympics was watching stuff that you never got the chance to watch normally, like Volleyball or Hockey or Fencing or Diving. I enjoyed watching teams from different countries, choosing a team to support because I liked the colour of their strip or one of the players had a funny name or they had a stupid haircut. I always always want USA to lose but they rarely do.

But this lympics was marred by the fact that it had been corrupted by the Tories, with Seb fucking Coe and Boris bloody Johnson and David rich-wanker Cameron. Just being there made me feel like a traitor to my class.

One Comment »

  • Talkative says:

    learned a couple of peripherally relevant things today…

    Boris Johnson’s great grandad was the last Minister of the Interior for the Ottoman Empire, and Princess Anne was the only female athlete at the Montreal Games of 1976 that wasn’t subjected to a sex test.

    In internet speak, MOTWYW…

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