Eurovision and Glusagna II

Ah, it was everything we hoped it would be and so much less.

Highlights included the Master trying to go for musical domination with a Turkish band, the Croatians with men in badly fitting fedoras and a grumpy old man traipsing around the stage, Latvia and their pirates, leaving Furtle and I to thank God that evilchalkie isn't Latvian, the Danes doing a rather splendid stereotypical cockney. Oh Dear. What else? Georgia, with the little female singer from Bridget Jones, the winners, Russia, threatening to withhold cheap gas and oil from anyone in the ex-Soviet sphere and presenting us with an odd little bloke with Deirdre Barlow's neck. What can one say about the Spanish? Not much.

I quite liked the Finns with singing a reasonably heavy number with a lyric that sounded like "Mr Beerhead".

And yes, there was a fat bird with industrial eyeliner from Portugal. There used to be loads of them; it was what the contest was all about, but this year, just her.

As far as the political voting goes, yes, everyone pretty much voted as expected regardless of song quality. Maybe we should reach some agreement with the Spanish, French and Germans; along with the BBC the three countries pretty much bankroll the operation. That has to be worth a few political votes, doesn't it? As it stands, the Beatles couldn't win it for the UK at the moment.

But that's the point, really. East of the Elbe, there's very little to do apart from invade each other, so the Eurovision Song Contest is far more important to the emerging democracies and their electric balalaikas than it is to the west, so I guess they should have their day in the sun, too.

Was it just me, or did it seem that the 80s were only just happening in some countries? Iceland, for instance.

C'est la guerre.

The Glusagna was very, very tasty, by the way.

Eurovision and Glusagna II

Ah, it was everything we hoped it would be and so much less.

Highlights included the Master trying to go for musical domination with a Turkish band, the Croatians with men in badly fitting fedoras and a grumpy old man traipsing around the stage, Latvia and their pirates, leaving Furtle and I to thank God that evilchalkie isn't Latvian, the Danes doing a rather splendid stereotypical cockney. Oh Dear. What else? Georgia, with the little female singer from Bridget Jones, the winners, Russia, threatening to withhold cheap gas and oil from anyone in the ex-Soviet sphere and presenting us with an odd little bloke with Deirdre Barlow's neck. What can one say about the Spanish? Not much.

I quite liked the Finns with singing a reasonably heavy number with a lyric that sounded like "Mr Beerhead".

And yes, there was a fat bird with industrial eyeliner from Portugal. There used to be loads of them; it was what the contest was all about, but this year, just her.

As far as the political voting goes, yes, everyone pretty much voted as expected regardless of song quality. Maybe we should reach some agreement with the Spanish, French and Germans; along with the BBC the three countries pretty much bankroll the operation. That has to be worth a few political votes, doesn't it? As it stands, the Beatles couldn't win it for the UK at the moment.

But that's the point, really. East of the Elbe, there's very little to do apart from invade each other, so the Eurovision Song Contest is far more important to the emerging democracies and their electric balalaikas than it is to the west, so I guess they should have their day in the sun, too.

Was it just me, or did it seem that the 80s were only just happening in some countries? Iceland, for instance.

C'est la guerre.

The Glusagna was very, very tasty, by the way.