I don't really care much for opening ceremonies. In fact, it's fair to say that the only thing I hate more than opening ceremonies are countries other than the one I live in. Plus, I love the Olympics. Therefore there was a grim inevitability that a combination of that and crazed jingoism would see me watching this evening's Danny Boyle-directed extravaganza of free dance and tiresomely continual anticipation of David Beckham's arrival.
I'm not really looking forward to it. I'm going in to the whole thing in the way you might a night in a haunted house as a codicil in a great aunt's will. It's something that I feel I really ought to do, rather than looking forward to with any great enthusiasm. Although actually the haunted house thing is probably a bad example, because that would be awesome.
Nevertheless, it's as good a time as any to launch the second Dotlympiad (You can see all of my reflections of the Beijing Games here). So, tonight, live on blog from 8.30 p.m. I will be presenting my own opening ceremony. I hope that you will enjoy it. Maybe you will prefer it even to the official opening ceremony in London? If nothing else, I can guarantee my opening ceremony will not have David Beckham in it.
- - -2016: Welcome to the London Dotlympic opening ceremony. The location is my garden. The themes of tonight's festivities are British history, Britishness and the good old-fashioned British Friday night out.
2034: Bears on unicycles. One of them is dressed as Sir Edward Elgar.
2039: There are no better serial killers than British serial killers. This dance routine celebrates that fact. Here, a group of nubile young girls, many of them prostitutes, gambol across the infield. And here come the serial killers! Jack the Ripper, Peter Sutcliffe, John Christie, Hindley and Brady. Let the chase commence!
Ian Huntley is in charge of the bath afterwards.
2043: Cavalcade of whimsical drunks.
2045: Cavalcade of aggressive, racist drunks.
2053: A red double-decker bus filled with Palace guards, drinking beer at its correct temperature.
2059: Unexpected pigeons.
2101: In order to celebrate cultural diversity and inclusiveness, my curry arrives.
2104: Here are the members of the Royal Ballet with their stylised re-enactment of the bombing of Dresden. Meanwhile the Royal Shakespeare Company perform scenes from Dad's Army.
2110: A flypast by some of the icons of British aviation as two Spitfires, a Sopwith Camel and a De Havilland Comet all drop into the Thames with flying colours.
2116: General-purpose dismissiveness of the French - including Agincourt, Waterloo and a 5-minute open mic segment.
2122: British popular music's influence is showcased, as the remaining members of The Beatles exhume the deceased members of The Who and vice versa.
2125: World War I in 45 seconds, by the children of the West Ham Church of England Primary School.
2128: A delegation of athletes from the West Indies, Ireland and Kenya arrive in the stadium only to be turned back by a landlady from Notting Hill wearing a tabard, officiously tapping the sign in her window.
2130: The entire Industrial Revolution is marked by the Manic Street Preachers singing some interminable dirge about the Miners' Strike of 1984.
2136: And here come the elephants.
2149: A celebration of British ingenuity: to celebrate the discovery of penicillin by Alexander Fleming in 1928 it is revealed that every seat in the stadium has given its occupant a dose.
2153: Cavalcade of returning whimsical drunks, now notably less whimsical.
2156: The vomiting begins.
0013: The flame is lit by the only person left standing, the proprietor of Best Kebab, Plaistow, E13.