It was easy to get distracted and confused by all the shiny lights and music of Sunday's Closing Ceremony. If that's the case, here's a bunch of things people said about the ceremony, revealing that most people who watched it also found themselves distracted and confused by all of the stuff going on. All that said, everybody seemed to enjoy the random mixture of various British cultural references.
A musical mishmash of eras and styles closed the London Olympics in a long and raucous fashion on Sunday night to complete what its director called the "after-party" of this 17-day global event.
That article got first billing for coming through with the sentence of the day:
You don’t quite associate the International Olympic Committee or the British royal family with an enormous, fluorescent multi-colored octopus, but there was DJ Fatboy Slim coming into view from its head.
It felt as if the Games had suddenly been programmed by England’s version of the Chamber of Commerce, which decided to take advantage of this final moment in the international spotlight to produce one long and kinetic ad for the country’s pop culture.
London's closing ceremony was the raucous reception in which everyone was encouraged to cut loose and each generation got a chance to play DJ.
I'm talking 'bout my generation," sang The Who, capping a raucous, rock 'n' roll Olympic closing ceremony But which generation? When the band members first sang "My Generation," they were in their 20s. Now they are pushing 70.
Woah! Where are they going with this one!
Like the Olympic torch passing from one runner to another, the London games' closing ceremony was an all-ages affair designed to show the flame of British creativity leaping from one age group to the next.
With a little British pomp and a lot of British pop, London brought the curtain down on a glorious Olympic Games on Sunday in a spectacular, technicolor pageant of landmarks, lightshows and lots of fun.
Our point is, everybody had more or less the same few things to say about the Closing Ceremony, finally proving once and for all that the best way to lull writers into a mildly entertained daze is to play them lots of Britpop.