I don't know what it's like where you are but London is currently decked out like a Louise Mensch reboot of Triumph of the Will. We are being bombarded with relentless festivities that are part of a political campaign to take us back to the 1930s and make us be pleased about it. There's the jubilee, the football, the tennis and then six weeks of Olympics; wall to wall flags, cops, soldiers, missiles, tourists, tories and traffic jams.
If for some bizarre reason you to the upcoming summer-long reactionary gang-bang, full-on naked toryism in our streets, may I reccommend to you the Official (sorry OFFICIAL) Anti-Olympics Blog. You will like it. For example:
“Poppycock!” they cry. “This is a time to rejoice, not to whinge and whine and moan and talk of democracy. Let’s put up the bunting, wave our flags, cheer for all that is good about being British!” Well, I hate to disagree… No, wait, scrub that. I love to disagree!
Damn right!