Live commentary…
7.00 pm. Here we see the dancers and performers, or at least the ones who didn’t go on strike yesterday, entering the very nearly completed stadium through an arch in the gigantic replica of what we’re told is David Beckham’s face. This was specially prepared for the occasion by Madame Tussaud’s, and therefore could be absolutely anybody.
7.15 pm. The dancers on the west side of the arena are recreating the famous Monty Python Fish Slapping Dance, while those on the east are supposed to be Morris Dancing. They aren’t. This is because all of the preparation and training documents for this group were prepared by civil servants, put in a laptop and left on a train two years ago. This fact only came to light last week. A government inquiry has been promised.
7.20 pm. And now, in celebration of British culture, the TWOC Ceremony. We see 24 ‘securely locked’ Ford Mondeos, and here are 24 youths wearing baseball caps and listening to rap music on shoplifted iPods, innit. And they’re off… and yes, 18… 19… 20! Brilliant! Not a single car left in the arena after just 20 seconds! And as a nice touch, note the solitary police officer filling in paperwork that proves the crime rate is going down, because none of the thefts were officially recorded.
7.45 pm. On the south side of the stadium, we now admire what would be a giant screen video display of famous British landmarks and views, except the screen itself was installed back to front and the wrong sort of power cable was supplied and nobody can get it to work and the right cable is on order but won’t be here until next week because the parts have to come from Taiwan.
8.00 pm. Always a charming favourite at any opening ceremony, it’s now the turn of the schoolchildren, from all over the country, to celebrate British historical events through the medium of song, dance and costume. However, this event has been cancelled as some parents have complained the content was offensive to ethnic minorities, other have complained that it’s political correctness gone mad, the teachers refused to take on the extra workload and went on strike, the children refused to take part saying it was against their human rights, and the government has promised an enquiry. Instead, here’s five holiday camp singers doing The Full Monty.
8.20 pm. And now here’s Sting, Bono and Bob Geldof to sing a song about world peace and loving one another, and… ooops, they’ve just fallen through a trapdoor into a large bath of corrosive acid. Excellent.
8.45 pm. Time now for the fireworks, which have been cancelled for ‘health and safety’ reasons.
9.00 pm. Time now for someone who won a televised singing contect three years ago and hasn’t been heard of since to mime to a backing track, and make us all realise that not hearing from him was actually just fine.
9.10 pm. According to the official programme, or at least the scribbled version of it that has been given to journalists and presenters because the actual, printed programme won’t be ready until next Tuesday because there was a problem at the printers and only Bill can fix the machine and he’s off sick, this is the part of the ceremony where 200 athletes, gymnasts and dancers delight us all with a fusion of mime, character, acrobatics and general pratting about that is supposed to have something to do with the Olympic Spirit. Unfortunately, none of them are here because the ones who tried to drive here found there was nowhere to park, the ones who tried the train are still waiting for a train to turn up, and the ones who relied on the bus are sitting on a broken down bus four miles away.
9.30 pm. Oh look, a British protester calling for the freedom of Tibet. Possibly a little late, or just confused.
9.40 pm. And now, John Cleese leads the entire stadium in a recitation of the Dead Parrot Sketch.
9.50 pm. The ceremony has to end now because nobody can afford the electricity needed to keep it going much longer. Someone who was in Big Brother five years ago cuts a ribbon, says ‘These games are well started, wicked innit’, and that’s it. The Olympic Torch would now be hoisted aloft, except it’s been stolen. The government has promised a full enquiry.
