We’re going to Wem-b-ley

Actually, we’ve already been. We had a tour, the American students and me, and we enjoyed it immensely. The tour itself was not fantastic, and really, the dressing rooms are not up to Arsenal’s standards at the Emirates, but you cannot argue with the building. It is maginificent. As you walk out into the stadium, it cannot fail to give you shivers. Even empty, it manages to be thrilling. I might not be getting into the Olympic stadium this summer, but at least I am going to Wembley. I have got tickets for the women’s football semi-finals and finals. Brilliant!

Usain Bolt was on the cover of the Metro this week, posing alongside Prince Harry. This is a good opportunity to study the visible differences between the habitus of a Jamaican sprinter and a member of the British aristocracy:

Could I also take advantage of this occasion to ask Usain to please stop impersonating people? He was on the TV was on the other day and I found myself muttering expletives under my breath. Grumpy (who was actually in medium humour at the time) expressed his surprise: “You don’t like Usain Bolt anymore?” “Of course I do”, I replied, “but he just said he was Richard Branson”. Don’t confuse me!

Olympic Oil

With BP and the Gulf of Mexico Oil Spill back in the news as the trial opens in New Orleans to judge who was responsible for the worst offshore oil spill in US history, it appears that it is not only me that has been wondering about the legitimisation of all these, frankly dubious, companies by the Olympics. There have been protests, says The Guardian, over the suitability of the oil company to be a major sponsor of London 2012:

Olympics organisers have come under attack from environmentalists, artists, indigenous people’s leaders and development groups over the position of BP as an official partner in the games.

There has been subvertising and everything!

Every time I see one of those adverts, I think “that is so wrong”. Jessica Ennis running through the sands – fuelled not by BP but by her breakfast. But what’s that scary green bubble following her like the white ball in The Prisoner? Just BP reminding us that there’s nothing like an oil company to mess up a good beach.

And if that’s not bad enough, in this ad the hurdler doesn’t just need a BP powered Olympic car – he actually is the car! He has an engine for a heart and BP oil in his veins. Fantastic.