Tuesday, May 23, 2006
What Did We Learn at School Eurovision Today on Saturday
So, Saturday then. The whole Eurovision spectacle itself was an event as gloriously enjoyable as eating a twix and a banana at the same time, but Daz's less than impressive placing not only put bit of a dampener on the night, it seriously screwed up the planned drinking game, the gist of which involved downing a shot every time Daz scored some points. Had we stuck to that plan we'd all have ended up staying sober. Well, soberer at any rate.
It shouldn't really have come as much of a surprise. After all, for the last few years Britain hasn't exactly done stunningly well no matter how hard we try, and we've been trying everything. We've tried sending something decent - Daz Sampson - we've tried sending pish - Jemini - and we've tried doing the same thing as every single other act that year - Javine - and yet we still can't seem to pull ourselves up from the bottom end of the league table. So what, aside from bribing every single person in Europe to vote for us, can we do to engender a change in our fortunes? Well...
It shouldn't really have come as much of a surprise. After all, for the last few years Britain hasn't exactly done stunningly well no matter how hard we try, and we've been trying everything. We've tried sending something decent - Daz Sampson - we've tried sending pish - Jemini - and we've tried doing the same thing as every single other act that year - Javine - and yet we still can't seem to pull ourselves up from the bottom end of the league table. So what, aside from bribing every single person in Europe to vote for us, can we do to engender a change in our fortunes? Well...
- Make Some Friends. No-one in Europe seems to like us much - apart from Ireland, and with the godawful tripe they served up we're not entirely sure we want them in our gang - and, while it's a cliche to go on about the political nature of the voting - and without it Terry Wogan would have nothing to say for the last hour of the broadcast - but to deny it makes a difference would be like denying Rachel Stevens her rightful place at the top of the charts. Oh. It seems unlikely that our other near neighbours, France, will ever give much more than two zuts about us, so we're going to need to do something drastic. We recommend invading one of the Slavic countries. Now, we know what you're thinking, and yes, in a short term sense it's unlikely to do us any favours in the contest and may well lead to our entrants being shunned during rehearsals and possibly dragged off to face trial for war crimes, but! If we look in a more long term view, say 50 years down the line, our presence there will seem perfectly natural and we'll be able to rely on a bit of block voting to help us on our way. If they look like they might put up a bit of a fight then we reckon one of the Nordic countries might be an easier victory. Either way it'll still be easier than trying to win Eurovision by any other means.
- Start Our Own Contest. If no-one wants us there, let's go home, get a new ball and have our own contest, where we're the only entrants and so are guaranteed victory. Let's run Song for Europe or Making Your Mind Up as normal, and then, when the rest of Europe are having their shindig, we'll have our own show and Terry can commentate away on it to his little xenophobic heart's content. Of course, given that under the rules of Eurovision we'll be unable to vote for ourselves, we'll still end up with zero points, it'll be a somewhat pyrrhic victory, but we'd still be in first place, and that's all that matters. And last place too, but never mind.
- Keep Sending Jemini. A perverse tactic, but if we threaten to continually send one of the worst acts to have ever graced the Eurovision stage to the contest until they let us win they're bound to give in eventually. Sure, at first they'll try and call our bluff and give them the zeroes they deserve, reasoning that we won't want them embarrassing us, but after three or four years of out of tune singing, duff dancing and songs which would make even Jordan become uncomfortable about doing, they'll be begging for a respite and giving us the sort of marks which would make Abba blush. Speaking of which...
- Clone Abba. Now, we're not quite sure how the laws surrounding this would work, but we reckon that if there clones were grown in a petri dish in this country, or at least a petri dish that was manufactured here, then they'd legally be British citizens, and so eligible to write a song to represent our good nation. It wouldn't even matter if the clones didn't come out right and looked a bit wonky. It didn't stop the Finnish scientists when their version of Westlife came out slightly off-centre.
