Airstrip One hosts the Olympics

Airstrip One was Orwell's name for England in “1984”, a country perpetually on a war footing, sort of like now for the London Olympics. There are gunboats on the Thames, an aircraft carrier, soldiers, sailors, commandos, cops, security teams—and this is just a huge track meet. This isn't the London I know and love—the London of “A nightingale sang in Berkeley Square”, of a smile from Julie Christie on a Mayfair street and some good conversation in the Camden Brasserie. Luckily for me it's now just a telly event far from the madding crowd. Orwell points out in one of his essays that international sports events do not unify, they antagonize. No one here will be cheering for Germany when there are Yanks in every event. And speaking of Dear Old Deutschland, the 1936 Games in Berlin were pretty memorable. Sure, you had Adolf and the Nazis hogging the best seats but you also had the wonderful performance of Jesse Owens and that epic and beautiful film “Olympiad”. But that was peacetime, wasn't it?