Not to join in with the Everyone Else, but shut up I’m going to: I don’t give a fuck about the Olympics. They seem to me to be a complete bag of irritation with some football (that’ll probably be shit) thrown in for good measure.
I used to like athletics when I was younger. We went to a few events at the Don Valley Stadium in Sheffield. I like Steve Backley, Linford Christie, Sally Gunnell and Kriss Akabusi (in a non-ironic fashion). I paid attention. I gave a shit.
But then I went through that whole ‘growing up’ thing and I noticed that, far from a child idolising these super-fit super-people, it was actually grown adults who forced them into the public eye and told us to adore them. Grown, fat, shitty adults wearing suits who do it to make money.
And while they’re pushing people who can run fast, throw things or lift unnaturally heavy items, those who actually contribute, who actually try to make a positive change for the world as a whole are ignored. Shoved to one side. Oh, you’ve created a way to feed billions of people across the world cheaply, cleanly and easily? Well, yeah, but you can’t jump far in a sandpit so nobody cares.
It’s ridiculous logic, that we celebrate people for having better muscles or the ability to be accurate with a pointy stick; that we demand someone appear all over our television screens because – through intense practice, the likes of which would mean a lot of people would reach the same standard – they can ride a bike better than you.
Peter Higgs? Well yeah, he predicted the existence of something that has tentatively been confirmed to be real that could give us new and profound understanding of how the actual world around us… well, exists. It helps explain everything there is. Put him on the fucking Bran Flakes, for fuck’s sake.
Anyway, fuck the Olympics, and fuck this ceaseless celebration of physical excellence. It means shit-all. Well done, you’re strong, or fast, or coordinated, or whatever. It doesn’t mean anything.
Then again, nothing means anything and oh god here comes today’s existential crisis…