What on Earth?
So you’re not accustomed to the tradition of the Eurovision? The mystery haunts your thoughts and answers escape your every breath? You’ve had sleepless nights and uneasy mornings pondering the question of questions: what is the Eurovision?
Well, brace yourselves please and open your minds, as the Eurovision is a dangerously big bite of cake to be swallowing in one go. Basically, every year since 1956, the countries of Europe have gathered together in the previous winner’s country, hauling their sparkles, drums, half naked dancers, and various other instruments of destruction to compete in the Eurovision Song Contest, an event that makes the X Factor look like a BBC News broadcast.
The idea behind the creation of the Eurovision was replacing war with overt musical performances, using up years’ worth of competitiveness and rivalry through song instead of blowing each other up. And hey, so far so good.
Each country brings along their chosen contestant to compete (preferably someone stolen from a padded cell) each year, trying to outdo the craziest of crazy by wearing tinfoil star hats or attempting to win over the crowds with a sombre love ballad and a giant Viking. It’s been described in the past, rather accurately, as a gay musical Olympics.
One of the things to remember with the Eurovision, especially for our hopeful American cousins out there, is that it is the tree house of overly ridiculous entertainment, and America is the girl who will never be allowed in. Sorry America, but we need something that you can’t take over and claim for yourself.
So, how does anyone choose between all of those sparkles and insanity? Well, the winner of the Eurovision is chosen in a manner that is fair and equal to all. You put all of your effort and time into creating the most unique, most obtuse, and most bizarre act to date and then you vote for your neighbour and political bestie. This is a term we refer to as ‘block voting’ and it basically means that Iceland will never win the Eurovision. Awks for them.
Don’t lose hope yet in the spirit of the Eurovision, though. After all, it’s not about the winning; it’s the taking part that counts. Now, keep saying that again and again and again until you almost believe it.
But I digress…
From the songs, to the outfits, to the hosts and, my personal favourite, the various country representatives, everything about the Eurovision is a lactose-intolerant individual’s worst nightmare. Smiles to challenge Ross Geller’s, outfits that would make Lady Gaga blush, and distance communication pauses that make for a chuckle a second – a yummy batch of Eurovision cookies is coming your way.
Kicking off our list of Eurovision moments, let’s look at the reason we are here in the first place: the artists. There have been some classics in our time. We’ve had Lordi with their barrier breaking Hard Rock Hallelujah, Lulu, Celine Dion, and of course the eternal ABBA, who kicked off their global success on the show. But what about the “not so classics”…
From dancing grannies, to men in glass boxes and turkey puppets, what the Eurovision lacks in grace and tact, it certainly makes up for in creativity and individuality.
And a show wouldn’t be a show without someone to tell you what’s going on, and who better than the happiest people in the world. The reason I love these people is probably not a reason they’d appreciate; it’s just so difficult not to laugh at the effort and enthusiasm they possess for…well…everything. From the opening act to the break time show, and all the way through every country’s results, these people practically explode with happiness and excitement all over their fifth outfit change.
And there is nothing I can say when it comes to the Eurovision country representatives. It’s the kind of joy you get from watching someone fall over; I simply revel in the awkwardness of it all. *Insert evil cackle here*.
Is it just me or is anyone else getting seriously excited about the 23rd of May now?!
Now, where did I put my flag…