The revealtion that we have each coughed up £400 for the Olympics rather startled me. And I wondered if it was 'worth it'.
There are those who think its been paradise all the way and those who wring their hands at the stupidity of it all.
I take a sort of middle ground; A folly with a spiritual caveat if you will.
Outside of survival and procreation, is not all other human activity superfluous?
What were the stories and dances around the tribal fire but a way of bringing meaning to our spare time?
And what is a game, but life shrunk and caged by its rules into something manageable in which to celebrate its basic story?
In our abstracted society, so far from natural, direct survival motivations, we are forced to synthesise these basic needs into something we call culture.
The ritual is ridiculous.
And the London Olympics can be seen as nothing more than smashing a champagne bottle on the side of a sinking ship.
Isn’t all life like that?
We’re all gonna die one day.
The future is only as bright as the particular place you want to see ahead.
Beyond the gold medal lies the grave.
So here’s a glass raised to the Olympics. And the mysterious contradiction at the heart of the human psyche that means a global forum for the competitive instinct can ignite empathy between us with its divisive flame.
Maybe it is that underneath all the cries and the face paint, we are subconsciously sharing the knowledge that it is the taking part in the flux of life that really matters.