Sitting on the tube yesterday I looked up at one of those Poems On The Underground. You know those things you imagine to be written by GCSE students or prisoners in the prison library. Turns out they're not. They're by actual poets. This poem was called 'Baku At Night'. "Hmm, I know where Baku is," I thought to myself "it's in Cameroon." It's not in Cameroon, that's the Baka rainforest people I was thinking of, so I'm the cunt there. Baku is in Azerbaijan. It's the city hosting this year's Eurovision Song Cuntest. Nobody quite knows how. Their 2011 winning entry was so catastrophically cuntish I thought I was having an emotional breakdown while watching it. I wasn't, it was just really, really cuntish. (I love how the singer says "thank you Europe" at the end. As if Europe was one single entity rather than a fragmented, multilingual, fiscally bereft collection of vastly diverse nations forced to abandon their old monetary currencies and adopt one single, slightly shitter, currency.)
If pop music wants to achieve a sustainable future, both culturally and economically, it should adopt Eurovision as its guiding vision. If Europe is to forge itself into the single EU state many progressive politicians feel is inevitable, then godawful pop is undeniably the key. Every year without fail this competition unites Europeans from Malmo to Munich in a smiling, flag waving frenzy of poorly produced europop bilge.
If pop music wants to achieve a sustainable future, both culturally and economically, it should adopt Eurovision as its guiding vision. If Europe is to forge itself into the single EU state many progressive politicians feel is inevitable, then godawful pop is undeniably the key. Every year without fail this competition unites Europeans from Malmo to Munich in a smiling, flag waving frenzy of poorly produced europop bilge.
"What?!?" You might ask. "What's happening here with this cunt?" you scream. "How is this good for anybody in the EU?" And, I'll freely admit, I honestly do not know... But it's happened, just like the collapse of the Euro, so deal with it. Yeah?
Eurovision is so epically shit it comes full circle and ends up being a work of unrepentant brilliantness. How it achieves this is largely due to the fact that most of the people performing the 'music' are cunts who would skin their own pet kittens alive to achieve any semblance of fame. This level of shamelessness makes for intense viewing. Hilarious, intense, ridiculously stupid viewing. Which is how pop music must be if it is to survive.
Look at these silly cunts Moldova, in the 2011 contest. Watching this with my mother she remarked that they were rather good. After I'd stopped choking on my Twiglets and dried my eyes I realised she had a point. What we were seeing was, essentially, a bad acid trip in which easy listening met shouty rap punk. In pointy hats. On a unicycle. With a trumpet. In broken English. It's like walking into a circus-themed gay bar in a scene from a Ken Russell film in the 1970s. It is so bad it is, in fact, good. That's the secret of Eurovision. It's so cuntish it essentially uncunts itself. Its disarming cuntishness peels away the facade of anything of any commendable quality and because of this we empathise with the poor fuckers on stage, making complete and utter cunts of themselves. This bare faced cuntishness reveals, perhaps unintentionally, a softer, humorous side underneath.
Paul Lester of the Guardian compared the Moldovans to Devo. Fair play to him. I don't want to get into a debate here about whether or not Devo were cunts. So let's just, for the sake of efficiency, say that they were.
(Sorry Devo, no offence. I'm sure you'd be the first to admit your career was generally based on arsing around.)
(Sorry Devo, no offence. I'm sure you'd be the first to admit your career was generally based on arsing around.)
Enough about Devo. Forget I even mentioned them...
Eurovision isn't a time to discuss artistic influences (there aren't any), it's a time for celebration. A time to freely and openly post xenophobic abuse on social media forums, to text your mates "look at these Icelandic cunts...lol :)", and to wonder what language the Bosnian entry is being sung in then realise it's in English.
Eurovision isn't a time to discuss artistic influences (there aren't any), it's a time for celebration. A time to freely and openly post xenophobic abuse on social media forums, to text your mates "look at these Icelandic cunts...lol :)", and to wonder what language the Bosnian entry is being sung in then realise it's in English.
Why are all the songs sung in English? The homegrown stars of Luxembourg, the Netherlands, Sweden et al don't sing in English when aiming for their national pop charts. So why here? Do they think the judges are such cunts they'll mark them down for singing in their own native tongues?
As I write this the BBC News channel informs me Jedward have made it through to the final for the second year in a row (it never used to be a tournament when I was a kid by the way, that's a new cuntish twist... semi finals? What ever next, penalty shoot outs, using Sir Cliff Richard's head as the ball and Cheryl Baker's legs as the goalpost? Actually, that might work...)
I actually thought Jedward were going to win it last year. And that's not something you're going to hear me say too often. I thought it had the right blend of vacuous minimalism, overt cuntishness and ludicrous haircuts to push it over the line. In the end all that got pushed was Jedward's own thumbs into each other's twin puckered anuses.
I actually thought Jedward were going to win it last year. And that's not something you're going to hear me say too often. I thought it had the right blend of vacuous minimalism, overt cuntishness and ludicrous haircuts to push it over the line. In the end all that got pushed was Jedward's own thumbs into each other's twin puckered anuses.
This year Jedward have turned up the Cunt-o-meter to absolute max. But, remember the rules of Eurovision - whenever a song is so utterly cack that you're forced, subconciously to exclaim "this has got no chance of winning in a million cunting years" - that's when you should get a bet on it to win. Seriously though, have you ever heard a worse song than this? Ever?
Wait, scrap what I just said about Jedward winning.There's worse. MUCH worse. Now, I'm not sure these Russian grannies could accurately be described as GILFs but... wait a moment... could they? Wait, maybe they... yes, yes they are! Brilliant. Absolutely fucking brilliant. Party for everybody? There's a party in my fucking pants my darlings and you're ALL invited. Genius. Fuck you Englebert, you might as well go home now. For you Mr Humperdinck, ze Euroz are over...
