The Relic

I've been here before, when the Falklands was invaded, for example, when that bloody animated clothes peg Diana Windsor-Saxe Coburg-Spencer hit the wall, when England was, apparently, doing well at rugby. I didn't care about any of those things, so I was declared an outsider, a betrayer of the national spirit. Effectively (though the puffed up right-wingers would never call it by it's true name because the Daily Mail says they're supposed to disapprove of Political Correctness) I am non-PC.

This time I don't give a damn how many medals those lottery-fuelled people who spend their time playing games instead of doing proper jobs have won at the Olympics. I know that I'm supposed to be starry-eyed and full of hero-worship for the sweaty geeks, but I'm not. George Orwell said this:

"Nearly all the sports practised nowadays are competitive. You play to
win, and the game has little meaning unless you do your utmost to win. On
the village green, where you pick up sides and no feeling of local
patriotism is involved. it is possible to play simply for the fun and
exercise: but as soon as the question of prestige arises, as soon as you
feel that you and some larger unit will be disgraced if you lose, the
most savage combative instincts are aroused. Anyone who has played even
in a school football match knows this. At the international level sport
is frankly mimic warfare. But the significant thing is not the behaviour
of the players but the attitude of the spectators: and, behind the
spectators, of the nations who work themselves into furies over these
absurd contests, and seriously believe-at any rate for short
periods-that running, jumping and kicking a ball are tests of national
virtue."

I'm with you George!

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The Relic

Richard Dawkins for Pope.