Thumb the remote control and there is omnipresence in the television advertisements. Glance up at the billboards and the giant images stare back. Walk through the centre of Paris, be it la Rive Gauche or la Rive Droite, through the arrondissements, the villages of Paris, and the pubs and restaurants lift their awnings to reveal a temporary rugby hinterland.
The Rugby World Cup has muscled its way into Parisian consciousness. It may not have infiltrated right to the very outskirts, where the branding is less obvious, but there are pockets of invasion, principally near the Bois de Boulogne, which adjoins the Parc des Princes, where Ireland will play their final pool match against Argentina on Sunday week.
L'Équipe, France's leading sports newspaper, carries a daily 10-page supplement on the World Cup, five or so of which are usually devoted to les Bleus. It is a cornucopia of opinion, reports and statistics. It even devotes a broadsheet page in English to what's being said in the global media.
L'Équipe is the newspaper market leader, but there are World Cup minutiae to be found in virtually very publication.
The tournament organisers have enlisted legendary landmarks like the Tour Eiffel to promote global rugby's showcase, strobe lighting projected onto this steel canvas to draw attention to some of the famous participants.
The tower also has giant screens at its base transmitting all 48 games during the seven-week odyssey.
The square in front of the Hôtel de Ville is decked out to celebrate the rugby, 1,000 square metres of lawn providing a grandstand view of a 55-square-metre screen on the façade of the building. Again every match is being shown here.
Special events such as haka demonstrations are also being staged on the lawn.
The 7,000-square-metre esplanade has two information areas opening before and after matches.
The Champs de Mars is the site of the official village, with a sponsors' sibling at the Trocadéro.
The Stade Charléty also welcomes the rugby fraternity with a giant screen and a variety of fun activities devoted to the sport.
These represent the official wing of the tournament but stroll through the heart of Paris, and in areas like Saint-Germain-des-Prés - translated colloquially as "the Valley of Thirst" by Jean Cormier Eyheraguibel, bon viveur and legendary rugby scribe of more than 40 years with the newspaper Le Parisien - and every second bar and bistro beckons patrons with myriad screens, generously priced comestibles and 40 shades of alcohol.
These are not the traditionally favoured watering holes whose gravitational pull entices Irish, English, Welsh, Scottish and Italian supporters on the biennial Six Nations pilgrimage. The World Cup is in town and everyone must compete for the vapour trail of largesse.
Television is undoubtedly the golden child of the marketing campaign as tournament sponsors employ humorous advertisements or simply pay a French player, coach or team to endorse their product.
National team supremo Bernard Laporte, bespectacled and wearing a slightly alarmed look, extols the virtue of some brand of jambon. His genius is definitely not of the thespian kind, so ham seems an apposite choice.
Peugeot have gone for a darker, Gothic, dressingroom scene, the French players offering menacing looks to camera as they absorb some well-chosen exhortations before heading out to play an imaginary game.
This constant intrusion into the daily life of Parisians guarantees recognition for the tournament but the size and nature of the city mean escape from the game is always possible.
In Paris, there are some 1,800 listed monuments, 170 museums, 145 theatres and 380 cinemas, some of which have been classified as UNESCO world heritage sites, and you probably won't see a rugby jersey in any of these places.
Flag down a taxi and strike up a conversation, and while there is an acknowledgement of the Rugby World Cup, many have no interest outside of the fortunes of the national teams. They couldn't tell how many nations are competing or name the venues; their interest, such as it is, is solely with the French cause.
It's only on match days and principally on the streets surrounding the Stade de France that the fabric of everyday life is overtaken by blue-shirted fervour.
A mini-village springs up around France's national stadium, the food-concession stands and temporary bars reflecting the general expense - and then some - of living in Paris.
Trains, cars and taxis disgorge and then sweep away again the human detritus - it should be noted given Friday's 9pm kick-off local time that supporters looking for the RER (Réseau Express Régional) trains or Metro must get back to the local station by 12.30am - back to the centre and the open-armed embrace of back-street hostelries.
But the following morning the jerseys have been discarded and the Rugby World Cup is once again relegated to the advertising mediums and media, its human presence minimal.
The arrival of Irish supporters to the French capital might introduce a more conspicuous presence, at least for a couple of days this week and then again the following week when Eddie O'Sullivan's charges head across town to the Parc des Princes.
It's a more convivial area of the city, endowed with a better immediate rugby hinterland, but within 24 hours the human traces of the Rugby World Cup will have been absorbed by a vast city; at least until the next match in the French capital.
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