Oh! Danny Boy(le)...

Less than six months to go, then, before we are forced to embrace the horror of it all. Gradually, the nation's consciousness is being infested with the wretched London Olympic Games.



£2,012 Ticket - Child's Play

 So far, there have been a few cock-ups but nothing that has sent the media into meltdown over the stupididty of it all. Even the ticketing stories have been down-played, including the nonsense of making babies have tickets, which almost had the Daily Mail and Mumsnet looking to Lord Coe for compensation for those families stupid enough to have bought tickets, and then deciding to have a baby in the interim. How loony of the olympic organisers to have arranged for the period between buying tickets and the games themselves to be greater than that of human gestation. Will they never learn...?

But now we have some information leaked about the opening and closing ceremonies. These are being directed by film-maker Danny Boyle. I'm sure that Danny Boyle is an accomplished artist and director; I've enjoyed many of his films, and loathed a few. But is he the right man for this job? Only time will tell. In 1948, the London Olympic Games were launched by a post-war austerity ceremony of a couple of military marching bands and the release of a few hundred pigeons that probably went on to shit all over tourists in Trafalgar Square. But these days, especially after the absurd ostentation of Beijing, there seems to be a willy-measuring contest going on every four years.


"My Island is Full of Noises...
and riots, and phone-hackers,
Murdochs, Camerons and
othe really scary things

What is Boyle cooking up? Well, the strap line seems to be "Isles of Wonder". This, according to Boyle, has been inspired by Shakespeare's Tempest, and the line in the first act of the Bard's work, "Be not afeared, the isle is full of noises". Boyle has, apparently, been equally inspired by Caliban's "deep, deep devotion to it [the isle]", and wishes to respresent our own deep, deep devotion to Britain through this vehicle...for around about £27 million. What a luvvie. Boyle's partner in this obscene waste of public money is Stephen Daldry, who will be overseeing the artistic delivery. Daldry said that the "Isles of Wonder" ceremonies will encapsulate the "...heritage, diversity, energy, invetiveness, wit and creativity that define the British Isles...". Bollocks. Right now, and probably in the summer, the things that do (and will) define the British Isles are "...recession, poverty, irresponsible capitalism, international intervention, celebrity culture and phone-hacking..." OK, I know that's unfair because there are also plenty of examples of Daldry's definitions around too but the view from abroad is rarely observed through such privileged, rose-coloured spectacles as his. And let's face it, given the number of people that Cameron has pissed off lately, there will be a lot of nations out there looking forward to the Boyle/Daldry presentations falling flat on their arses...or worse, no matter what might be said diplomatically.

Thankfully, there's still time for Boyle to change his approach. Instead of being 'inspired' by Shakespeare, he could do a lot worse than directing the olympic ceremonies based on his own back-catalogue (ignoring the dire, but nontheless inspiringly tiltled 'Vacuuming Completely Nude in Paradise'.)

Here's the alternative "Danny Boyle Spectacular" for London 2012:


True British Representatives

 Four scumbag Glaswegians, off their collective skulls on smack, go to London to deal heroin. They find themselves in Trafalgar Square where, through a bizarre set of coincidences, they climb upon the fourth, vacant plinth for a little sleep and then the plinth collapses and traps all of their left arms for 127 hours. One of them manages to shit in his sleeping bag and while trying to free his arm, releases the quilted shit-storm over the pigeon-feeding assembly (to the tune of 'Feed the Birds, Tuppence a Bag' from Mary Poppins). Everyone in the assembly contracts a viral disease from the shitty sleeping bag and then, 28 Days Later, they die and are all buried in a Shallow Grave. Only one pigeon-feeder survives; a young Indian boy. In a remarkable finale, he is asked, by Boyle himself, the ultimate question: " 'The Isle is full of noises' is a quote from which play by Shakespeare?" The Boy must choose from four options. A) The Tempest, B) King Lear, C) Kiss Me Kate or D) Up Pompeii. He'd phone a friend but he hasn't got a phone and has no friends, because he's a poor slumdog.

Eighty thousand people at the Olympic Stadium wait. Their breath is bated. Sweat pours from every pore. Even one-month old babies - in their own seats - are silent in anticipation. The indian boy finally chooses... 'A'! The stadium erupts. The cast of Boyle's drama all begin vacuuming naked in a Daldry-realised representation of paradise. (OK, it was too good to miss out...sorry)

It has been rumoured that Sir Paul McCartney, Sir Elton John, the ballerina Darcy Bussell and the band, Take That, are being courted as potential partcipants in Boyle's rubbish. On that basis, the boy band lads could quite easily be Begby, Sickboy, Spud (Robbie Williams) and Renton. Bussell is a shoe-in for the slumdog, Elton for Dick van Dyke and Macca as Chris Tarrant.

Job done. Let the games begin...