Where do I stand on the London Olympics?
Well, I hate the logo obviously, that's a given; and the floating pontoon of Olympic rings careering down the Thames this week was utterly pointless; and I can't stand the way previously unknown female athletes competing in minor events nobody really cares about - who just so happen to be moderately attractive - are gracing the cover of every newspaper and magazine across the country with their scantily clad bottoms pointing directly at the camera.
How's that for starters?
The prospect of the cultural Olympiad and all the other ceremony surrounding this greatest of sporting events is daunting. Cringe worthy pretension and superfluity will no doubt force us to watch from between our fingers in excruciating agony.
Yet, it's all too easy to make fun of the Olympics, for the circus that surrounds it to leave you foaming at the mouth or sniggering with incredulity.
When I hear people making fun of London 2012, I'm mindful of when Coldplay's Chris Martin accepted a Brit Award by taking to the stage and slagging off George W Bush.
"What a stand you're making" I thought sarcastically as I watched the ceremony on television. "To criticise the most blindingly obvious and easy of targets. You're so devastatingly subversive".
Suspicion of ceremony and over enthusiasm is, of course, a national trait of the British (except where Royalty is involved and then it's expected) and it is admirable that we are usually able to cut through hyperbole with a reserved dignity. However, it does also mean we're much happier sneering knowingly from the outside rather than risking the embarrassment of committing to an ideal for better or for worse.
What if it's a huge failure? What if we're a global laughing stock? What if Boris Johnson slips and falls into the Olympic swimming pool while attempting a speech about how much better we do things than Johnny Foreigner? Much safer to sit back in your armchair and say, "I told you so".
Of course there are practical reasons for ill feeling towards the Olympics. Yes, a lot of tax payers money is going towards it but a 'mega event' looming on the horizon also forces some of that tax money to be used regenerating deprived areas of London, raising transport standards and creating new jobs and affordable housing that might never otherwise have materialised.
And yes, evidence (and I have actually read a handful of research papers on this) suggests there's nowhere near the economic boom effect that is often predicted for cities and countries hosting Olympics. Still, it's pretty clear that an event of this scale, run well, will have at least some positive effect on the economy, particularly for tourism, and can't help but raise the world's opinion of our country - much needed given our unpopular involvement in Iraq and, more recently, our position on the European Union.
I understand the arguments for and against but now that it's here and there's no going back, I ask myself, do I want to be like those men you see in nightclubs standing at the side of the dance floor, chuckling at the fools cavorting in front of them whilst secretly hating themselves for the self-consciousness that strikes them rigid?
From here on in, I'm pro the Olympics, I'm going to bask in their glory. Yes, I'd rather there was no opening ceremony with David Cameron gabbling on about peace, love and how great The Smiths are but to hell with it!
The Olympics will be great! I have a ticket to the football at Wembley and I'm delighted. When it eventually arrives through the front door I may even do a little dance to celebrate.
I suspect when the Games finally do arrive even the naysayers will be swept up in the occasion and, whether they admit it or not, will enjoy the experience far more than they expect.
At the closing ceremony, as the fireworks whizz and bang over dancers dressed in inflatable Yorkshire puddings, wearing bowler hats and dancing round the maypole, I'll be the one leaning back in my armchair, sipping smugly from a cup of tea and saying "I told you so."
Well, I hate the logo obviously, that's a given; and the floating pontoon of Olympic rings careering down the Thames this week was utterly pointless; and I can't stand the way previously unknown female athletes competing in minor events nobody really cares about - who just so happen to be moderately attractive - are gracing the cover of every newspaper and magazine across the country with their scantily clad bottoms pointing directly at the camera.
How's that for starters?
The prospect of the cultural Olympiad and all the other ceremony surrounding this greatest of sporting events is daunting. Cringe worthy pretension and superfluity will no doubt force us to watch from between our fingers in excruciating agony.
Yet, it's all too easy to make fun of the Olympics, for the circus that surrounds it to leave you foaming at the mouth or sniggering with incredulity.
When I hear people making fun of London 2012, I'm mindful of when Coldplay's Chris Martin accepted a Brit Award by taking to the stage and slagging off George W Bush.
"What a stand you're making" I thought sarcastically as I watched the ceremony on television. "To criticise the most blindingly obvious and easy of targets. You're so devastatingly subversive".
Suspicion of ceremony and over enthusiasm is, of course, a national trait of the British (except where Royalty is involved and then it's expected) and it is admirable that we are usually able to cut through hyperbole with a reserved dignity. However, it does also mean we're much happier sneering knowingly from the outside rather than risking the embarrassment of committing to an ideal for better or for worse.
What if it's a huge failure? What if we're a global laughing stock? What if Boris Johnson slips and falls into the Olympic swimming pool while attempting a speech about how much better we do things than Johnny Foreigner? Much safer to sit back in your armchair and say, "I told you so".
Of course there are practical reasons for ill feeling towards the Olympics. Yes, a lot of tax payers money is going towards it but a 'mega event' looming on the horizon also forces some of that tax money to be used regenerating deprived areas of London, raising transport standards and creating new jobs and affordable housing that might never otherwise have materialised.
And yes, evidence (and I have actually read a handful of research papers on this) suggests there's nowhere near the economic boom effect that is often predicted for cities and countries hosting Olympics. Still, it's pretty clear that an event of this scale, run well, will have at least some positive effect on the economy, particularly for tourism, and can't help but raise the world's opinion of our country - much needed given our unpopular involvement in Iraq and, more recently, our position on the European Union.
I understand the arguments for and against but now that it's here and there's no going back, I ask myself, do I want to be like those men you see in nightclubs standing at the side of the dance floor, chuckling at the fools cavorting in front of them whilst secretly hating themselves for the self-consciousness that strikes them rigid?
From here on in, I'm pro the Olympics, I'm going to bask in their glory. Yes, I'd rather there was no opening ceremony with David Cameron gabbling on about peace, love and how great The Smiths are but to hell with it!
The Olympics will be great! I have a ticket to the football at Wembley and I'm delighted. When it eventually arrives through the front door I may even do a little dance to celebrate.
I suspect when the Games finally do arrive even the naysayers will be swept up in the occasion and, whether they admit it or not, will enjoy the experience far more than they expect.
At the closing ceremony, as the fireworks whizz and bang over dancers dressed in inflatable Yorkshire puddings, wearing bowler hats and dancing round the maypole, I'll be the one leaning back in my armchair, sipping smugly from a cup of tea and saying "I told you so."
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