What do the opening ceremony of the Beijing Olympics and the initial test run of the Large Hadron Collider — the world’s most powerful particle accelerator — in Geneva have in common?

No, it’s not the world’s geekiest dirty joke but enchanting proof that you can learn a great deal when enormous amounts of time, money and human ingenuity are expended making things collide at high speed.

When the Large Hadron Collider comes on line next month, the European Organization for Nuclear Research (known as CERN) hope to start gleaning insights into the fundamental building blocks of the universe that could begin to re-write the laws of physics. Or, if you’re feeling apocalyptically technophobic, it could (but probably won't) create a black hole that will swallow the world.

Like the super-dense mass of stupid revealed every time Keith Quinn and John McBeth opened their mouths during the opening ceremony. If stating the bleeding obvious, or not knowing what the hell you were talking about at all, was an Olympic event New Zealand would started out with two gold medals.

I’ve tried to be a conscientious objector to the hype and brainless jingoism that breaks on the media shore every time the Mighty O approaches. Still, full credit to opening ceremony co-director Zhang Yimou for a spectacle — and a healthy dollop of patriotic sentimentality — that should have been expected by anyone familiar with his films.

Apparently, it was a celebration of the “Four Great Inventions” ancient China gave the World — The Compass, Gunpowder, Paper and Printing.

OK, it turned out that there were also a few modern innovations that modern China was quite happy to take full advantage of: using CGI footage of fireworks when reality was too damn dangerous and unattractive, an adorable seven year old moppet lip-syncing Ode to the Motherland while a not quite so cute child did the grunt work, and pitch perfect spin control. After all, it’s pretty hard to get that outraged when the people responsible, in effect, say “yeah, we wanted it to be perfect — wouldn’t you?”

I’m the last person to say we shouldn’t be highly sceptical about the propaganda potential of high-profile international sporting events — and there’s none higher than the Summer Olympics. China certainly has a less than savoury record — and an uncertain future — when it comes to almost any indicator of civil, political or social freedoms you can think of.

But the modern Olympic Games have always been an uncomfortable alloy of golden ideals and the tarnished brass of money, politics, theatre, managerial incompetence, egos and occasionally some wonderful moments not even the most crack-headed commentary or pointless live cross can spoil.