The Puppet Why?

Having said all of that, what is with the weird Puppet in the Latvian Act?

Euroconfession Time

I have a confession to make, repeat after me.

"We are the winners, of Eurovision, VOTE!"

Yes that is correct, I am a not so closetted Eurovision junky,every year at about this time the tea drinker and I settle in on a Sunday night for a feast of televisual, musical cheese.

This year it was up to the Greeks to provide the requisite pair of embarassing, nay amazing hosts! One of whom was even propositioned live via satellite by a drunken comedy Dutchman. No it wasn't the Girl...

As ever there is a parade of music, some of which sets your teeth on edge, some you nod along to and some you actually like.

For Eurovision to truly work, you need to watch the BBC coverage with the sainted Lord Terry of Wogan audibly losing the will to live as the evening cruises by. Face it, he is the man who had the presience to describe Riverdance as "Pedigree Chum" when the contest was held in Dublin. Terry ceased to take the show seriously many, many years ago and it is the cynical humour, repeated references to yer man and eejits that help make the programme what it is.

Add to this the growing knowledge amongst Europes' musos that subversion is better than being French. No, I am not anti French, but I have only a limited tolerance to the poe faced succession of interchangable balladeers that they send each year.

Or, perhaps it is a post modernist, sneaky French punishment for not doing the contest in French, it might explain a lot actually.

Over the years there has been a string of acts who resolutely zero in on the Kitsch aspect of the competition and attack this, tongues in cheeks, twinkles in eyes.

We have had Guildo Horn and the orthapaedic stockings with "Guildo has love for you", crazed German antics, Schlager turned up to 11 and a cow bell solo in the middle. Then we had Stefan Raab, "Wadde Hadda dudde Da"or something. Funk by the man who invented the Wok luge sport. Then there was the crazy Icelandic guy in suspenders and rubber, or the odd metal thing of last year. Not to forget the drumming granny, the two old codgers from Denmark with the Vocoder and on and on.

In general they finish in the middle of the pack, Terry makes a couple of cutting remarks then resumes peering at the Croatian entrants tits and life goes on.

Except, last night, the lunatics not only took over the asylum, but burnt it to the ground.

Any year where a German Country and Western band in funny hats looks bland has got to be a little bit special!

Firstly we had the ultimate tongue in cheek moment, a bunch of Lithuanian men singing

"We are the winners of Eurovision" as a football chant. Six guys in suits, one fattish bald guy at the end who did a somewhat over the top dance and four minutes of insanely catchy pop.

It annoyed the hell out of the Greek crowd.

Then, the mighty Lordi, Finnish, Latex, Metal and fire!

Rock and Roll Hallelujah, full of dodgy puns and stomping!

And it won, by a mile.

The joy of the latter part of the evening, apart from Drunken minor personalities in strangely Consonant heavy parts of Europe trying for the two minutes of glory, was the growing terror on the Hosts faces.

Finland didn't just win, the romped home with a huge gap behind them, only partly filled by a fey Russian in a nice white singlet.

As the numbers mounted the Hosts went greyer and greyer, my God they were thinking huge Finnish people in latex! Rock and Roll beasts on our nice stage! What do we do!

And, back they came..