I Promise, I'll Get Over This Lyric Obsession Soon

I just wanted to share an example of a song that has good lyrics.

Now, by "good" I don't just mean enjoyable, but I mean it in terms of being able to communicate a story and emotional state.

Samishikute Nemurenai ("You Can't Sleep Alone")
(translated by Michael House, from the Megazone lyrics homepage)

You met by chance in the heart of town
She's got a sunny disposition, but somewhere [inside] a sad city girl
You can't meet for a while after that,
But the town's gossip worries you.

(Relatable experience, tells a story.)

Somewhere a heartache, once more, in vain
You saw the place where you took her walking
When this song has run gently all the way to the end
Go on back with the story, will you?

(Develops the story further; conveys emotional state)

The smell of a gimlet reminds you
Of the cafe-bar where you whispered of love that one time
You've fallen out of touch since then,
But call me right away

(further development)

When this song has run gently all the way to the end
Go on back with the story, will you?
When you've heard this song tenderly all the way to the end
Go on back with a smile, will you?

(Abrupt, but hopeful resolution. In other words, you decide whether you will feel better at the end.)

All of that is not in "Las Vegas."

It's all about sending the right Estonians to do the job: Eurovision 2005 Body-Count Update for the Semi-Final

Primarily because I'm still not 100% recovered from my cough/cold/fever ailment and that there's basically only a few countries left to choose, here's an update on the Eurovision 2005 Body Count in Kiev. I'm only listening to 90 seconds of each song (which, I reckon, is about the amount of time for a person to either like it or hate it).

Trying to break-out: The Semi-Final

Andorra: Marian Van de Wal - La Mirada Interior
Marian looks a lot like Alenka Godec (Slovenian soul singer who did several high-caliber EMA performances). Her song, however, is quite the polar opposite. It's all mystical and such (helped partly by all the arching kung-fu positions that Marian gets into), but it's just really adequate. Nothing too spectacular, nor terribly alluring. Smoke and mirrors.

Austria: Global Kryner - Y Asi
Oh boy this is something else. I have to preface this for international readers by saying that where I come from [Milwaukee] is really known for polka music and this is the sort of song you hear all the time at both the county and state fairs. It's cute and quirky, which considering that the one of the other mixtures of Latin and Polka is Tejano music from the US-Mexico border, is pretty pleasant to the ear. Lyrically, it's delightfully witty. ("A girl from Cuba came to Austria, and saw that Austrians danced so strange.")

Belarus: Angelica Agurbash - Boys & Girls
Anna Oxa's Belarussian twin! It's a shame that we don't know whether this or another song will go to Kiev. Angelica performs this song screeching, but like Anna Oxa, she makes it work musically for dramatic effect. And her outfit makes her look like she just stepped off some horrible 1970's sci-fi movie. Lyrically, however, this is so corny (well-intentioned, but still corny) that I have to laugh at some points. ("Boys & girls you bring meaning to my life?" Why not just say "children?") One good thing though, you can understand Angelica's pronunciation inherently better than Alexandra's last year.

Bulgaria: Caffe - Lorrain
Bland jazz-pop with abysmal lyrics. They're singing in English, yet I still have no idea why we should care about "Lorrain in the rain." (Speaking of which, why is Lorrain spelled that way instead of "Lorraine?")

Croatia: Boris Novkovic featuring Lado Members - Vukovi Umiru Sami
Boris is unbelievably pale. Has this man ever seen the sun? Anyway, Boris and three women in short skirts and gold coin necklaces drone on about wolves while some man plays a bagpipe and another man (who looks like he's tattooed all over) beats the living daylights out of a huge set of drums. I can take or leave folk music, and this is the type I leave FAR AWAY.

Denmark: Jakob Sveistrup - Tænder På Dig
This still sounds like some cast-off from a Disney film. It's cute, but cute in the annoying way. Jakob capering about doesn't make it anymore interesting.

Estonia: Suntribe - Let's Get Loud
These girls are so out of their league. If they performed this with more precision in the choreography and actually tried to harmonise together, then it might cover up the fact that these are some atrocious (not "Las Vegas" atrocious, but pretty dire) lyrics. The Swiss have the better Estonian entry this year.

Finland: Geir Ronning - Why?
Why did I lose 90 seconds of my life listening to this? Why did the Finns choose this horrid ballad? Why do people even write ballads if they aren't going to use it to express complex emotions?

Hungary: NOX - Forogj Világ
This sort of pop/rock folk I like. It's got a beat and nice helpings of guitar. No problems here whatsoever.

Ireland: Donna & Joseph McCaul - Love?
Well colour me surprised that this is the Irish entry. Donna looks like Kelly Osbourne (sings a bit like her too, which is not necessarily a bad thing with this song). Joseph looks like Clay Aiken but less masculine (that is not a compliment). Despite some occasionally cliche lyrics (unless the writer was going for the idea that love makes you bipolar), this is kind of catchy. I like it, but if these kids want to get out the semi, they had better step up the performance to a notch above "nervously confident."

Israel: Shiri Maymon - Hasheket Shenish'ar
I came into this song not expecting to like it: a) because it's a ballad; b) because the Israeli ballads have been relatively dire since Rita in 1990. (By the way, people, that is what a ballad should be, a cartharsis.) After listening to it, I have to say it's kind of charming. Not great, not interesting, just charming. A touch above indifferent in my book.

Latvia: Walter & Kazha - The War Is Not Over
Unfortunately you have 90 more seconds to bore senselessly as you remind us of this fact. As much as I hate ballads, I hate squeaky-voiced young men who play acoustic guitar even more. Horrid lyrics ("someone is loser, someone is winner") and frankly Walter and Kazha look like they are in desperate need of a flea bath. Anyone who votes for this needs their head examined, because clearly their brains are in disarray.

Lebanon: Aline Lahoud - Quand Tout S'enfuit
Ironically see Israel for my reaction to this as this song left me the same way. I don't quite see why many fans seem to be in love with this song. (Of course you have the Eurovision fan stereotype of a shut-in that likes to escape into a dreamy, romantic world, because the real world is so icky.) The percussion is nice, though I can't say I'm that enthralled by the lyrics.

Lithuania: Laura & The Lovers - Little By Little
That's a lot of alliteration there, isn't it? "Little By Little" sounds like a b-side from a Texas single. Like many of the songs that proceeded it, it's cute and bouncy, but nothing special.

Macedonia: Martin Vucic - Ti Si Son
Balkan cumbia! How else can you describe this? A stocky and sturdy man (geez Martin, you've had a rough life considering you're only a few years younger than me) sings while a bunch of women barely clad in silver shake what their mothers gave them. The overall effect is weird but catchy.

Moldova: Zdob Si Zdub - Bunica Bate Toba
And from Balkan cumbia we go to the much more logical combo of Balkan ska/rock. This song is still good, perhaps even better than when I previously heard it. It's quite remarkable that the singer can switch between Moldovan and English flawlessly. I love the wacky lyrics as well ("that big bad mama plays those drums").

Monaco: Lise Darly - Tout de Moi
From the excerpt I heard, this sounds like this will fall into the Israel and Lebanon category. Geez, doesn't anyone try to write a serious emotional ballad? You people can't all be that shallow.

Netherlands: Glennis Grace - My Impossible Dream
If we're going to be flush with ballads this year, then at least this is one of the better ones. (That is not saying much.) Glennis does indeed perform the living daylights out of it, and I do like the lyric "the gauntlet has been thrown." Still, I lump it with Israel, Lebanon, and Monaco.

Norway: Wig Wam - In My Dreams
Brilliant musically (lyrically, it's nothing special, but certainly not off-putting). Visually, it's Quiet Riot lives (spandex pants, big hair, YMCA mustaches). Wig Wam are so unbelievably camp and dated that being out-of-sync with the year 2005 works in their favour. I love this entry.

Poland: Ivan & Delfin - Czarna Dziewczyna
Fast-paced folk about a dark haired woman (apparently...I don't speak Polish). Another one that's cute, but not that interesting.

Romania: Luminita Anghel & Sistem - Let Me Try
This is a couple steps up from cute, but not interesting to cute and quite stunning visually. Luminita capers about in capri pants while Romania's five-piece answer to Safri Duo beat the living daylights out of trash cans (some of which are subsequently set alight). Again, we've got bland lyrics. (I am just resigned this is a year where the singers could do no better nor worse if they were reading stereo instructions. I just wish some of these lyricists would take some time to really analyse English pop songs before they decide to emulate them.)

Slovenia: Omar Naber - Stop
I wish he would. I hate to sound petulant, but the only way I can describe this is just that it sucks. Supremely. (Better than "Why" though.)

Switzerland: Vanilla Ninja - Cool Vibes
Hallelujah! A great entry. Sheer bliss, in my opinion. I'm all for symphonic rock ballads, even moreso if they have a fatalistic tone to them. ("Cool Vibes, why don't you kill me? Cool vibes, why don't you thrill me?") The girls of Vanilla Ninja look ten times more competent than fellow Estonians Suntribe. If this wins, I will be an extremely happy person. (Attention all you sad old ballad writers: This is how it is done with pathos and complex drama woven into both the lyrics and music. Life and death are inherently more interesting than hearing about some sad sack you're infatuated with.)

So here's how all the entries so far fall into place in my head:

Royalty:

1. Switzerland
2. Norway
3. Moldova

Entourage:

4. Hungary
5. Macedonia
6. Ireland
7. Romania
8. Austria

Petty bourgeois:

9. Netherlands
10. Israel
10. Lebanon
10. Monaco
13. Belarus*
14. Lithuania
15. Andorra
16. Estonia
*= If "Boys & Girls" is the song

Just piss off, commoner:

17. Denmark
18. Poland
19. Bulgaria
20. Croatia
21. Slovenia
22. Finland
23. Latvia

I blame those trollops from Spain who claim to speak for the sun: Melodifestivalen 2005 Final

Cue the trumpets, the time has finally come...It's the Melodifestivalen 2005 Final.

And the question on my mind isn't so much who will win, but rather how badly Martin Stenmarck will lose. (Nothing against Martin personally, but the songwriters behind his entry...Niklas Edberger, Johan Fransson, and Tim Larsen I'm talking to you.) I've got no issue with any of the other entrants. (Ok, I have an issue with Fredrik Kempe's voice...if we're being honest.)

2PM: Hurrah! Perfect reception. Happy recapper.

201: Some pock-marked man makes jokes outside Globen. Best argument for learning Swedish.

203: The stylish entrance of the presenters. This time it is Jill Johnson and Mark Levengood. Jill is dressed like a Canary and Mark is dressed like a tall, bald Napoleon. It is all oddly appropriate. Mark's Swedish sounds a bit unique and very crisp. I think he's not native born.

• Song 1: Martin Stenmarck - Las Vegas

Mark makes a Tom Jones comment. How wrong he is. These postcards will be interesting. The pock-marked man from earlier is seen harassing Martin in bathroom. Martin is good-looking. Shame about his song.

Martin is wearing a sparkly jacket, so I guess he is going for the Liberace angle of things. He is supported by 4 women wearing white PVC or leather suits. I have to say that my complaint about this song is really just the lyrics. Seriously, everybody onstage is entirely better than the daft song that they have been given.

• Song 2: Linda Bengtzing - Alla Flickor

Jiminy, Mark & Jill change quickly. Pock-marked man harasses Linda in her dressing room. She looks somewhat peeved by him. It's all rather funny, actually.

Linda comes onstage in the same Sgt. Pepper's jacket, and she looks, uh, relaxed. So relaxed that she's not entirely on-key. I still think the biting a bat's head off would work.

• Song 3: Nordman - Ödet var min väg

I could get used to Mark's voice. It definitely keeps you alert. Pock-marked man interviews Nordman. He apparently asked them a funny question (because the audience laughed), but Nordman stay completely stoic.

Wow. How the mighty have fallen. The bald, pierced singer of my lustful thoughts back in Göteborg has morphed into a slightly pudgy, whiny (perhaps even drunk) screecher. I am now twice as shocked as to how this got selected for the final. I think everybody else onstage other than him is having a fun time.

• Song 4: Shirley Clamp - Att älska dig

Funny interview with Shirley this time as the pock-marked man assumes that she is a foreigner and she tells him otherwise.

Now Shirley has improved since the first semi-final. She's still dressed as Ethel Merman-goes-disco, but her voice and pronounciation is ten times as sharper than it was last month (and it wasn't bad then). RESPECT! (By the way, Shirley, I thought you didn't want people to stare at your cleavage? Your outfit isn't helping. Neither is jumping up and down at the end of it.)

• Song 5: Sanne Salomonsen - Higher Ground

Whoa, Sanne comes off like Debbie Harry in this interview. She just chomps away and mentions that she's from Denmark. It's quite funny actually.

Sanne has developed a new look since the 3rd semi-final: the Danish answer to comedienne Wanda Sykes. She's got the Linda Bengtzing curse, energy by the bucketloads, but dodgy singing. Why the choreographers thought it was a good idea to have Sanne & Co. wave their hands around during the "round and 'round" part of the song is a mystery to me.

• Song 6: Caroline Wennergren - A Different Kind of Love

I'm getting the sense that apart from Shirley that we've had nothing but no-hopers so far. Caroline's voice is considerably less grating live than it is recorded. That is not saying that it is all that great either. Caroline is dressed in some sparkly red and black dress that makes her look like a losenge. Nonetheless, it doesn't distract from the fact that this song would be inherently better with a singer who had a softer voice.

• Song 7: Alcazar - Alcastar

Pock-marked man makes a pun with Alcazar and Alcatraz. I'm really beginning to like this guy. He's a riot in a very dry way.

Alcazar still burst out of the disco ball, but instead of wearing cartoonish outfits they are wearing ABBA white. (Do you really want those comparisons in Sweden? That's like going up against Goliath.) They're considerably stronger than they were last month, until they hit the final chorus. Eep, those were some wrong notes. (By the way, I do not want to see Andreas's abs that much unless I am in bed with him.)

• Song 8: Jimmy Jansson - Vi Kan Gunga

Jimmy looks like a brat playing with his mobile while Pocky interviews him. He's still gender-neutral.

Good lord, it's the Swedish Aaron Carter! Complete with random spastic movements and jumping up and down. It's like a desperate cry for Ritalin. If it weren't for the 12-14 year old girl vote, this would stand no chance. It's still between Shirley, Alcazar, and Nanne (so far) and Jimmy's performance doesn't look he'll be jumping in that group any time soon. (Is this kid really over 14? If so, he needs some growth hormone.)

• Song 9: Fredrik Kempe & Sanna Nielsen - Du och jag mot världen

Wow, this is dull. It shouldn't be, but it is. Fredrik pulls faces while Sanna basically runs roughshod over him vocally. I can't quite make it out, but I think Fredrik is wearing a leather suit. Whatever it is, he should never wear it again. This pair really is Fame: 10 years later.

• Song 10: Nanne Grönvall - Håll om mig

Not to jinx things, but this is true case of saving the best for last. (The roar in the audience is a clear indicator.) I love Nanne, even more so for the world-weary, slightly bitchy attitude she pulls off (I'm assuming jokingly) during her interview with Pocky.

Nanne is simply excellent. The only changes to her performance seems to be that she is camping it up more. (The song does seem to call for a camp performance to be honest.) It is also very evident that Nanne, Lena Ph, and Tina Turner would be a power house of a trio.

256: Recap. It is now clear (to me at least) that this contest is really between Shirley, Alcazar, and Nanne with an outside chance for Sanne or Jimmy.

300: I like Mark & Jill. Good choice SVT. (Makes ever so-slightly for the offensive pair from Semi-Final 2.) Jill has a strong resemblance to Megan Mullally from Will & Grace.

302: After Dark is the first interval. Who are they? Drag artistes. Quite good ones in fact (they were in the regular MF last year). This year, however they poke fun at Carola, Lena Ph, and Charlotte Nilsson (or Pierelli). It's quite hard to tell whether they are lip-syncing or not. Midway through, for some odd (yet, entirely believable reason) some Herrey and ABBA impersonators come on and sing "Det gor ont." I'm glad I'm on pills while writing this, because if I had all my faculties together this would not be as enjoyable.

309: Mark shows off the weird bowling trophy that this year's winner will receive. I would think the land of Ikea and Saab would have something a lot more stylish.

310: Carola is the second interval. Has this woman ever left the 1980's? She is wearing some green outfit that was left over from a Debbie Gibson video. There is synth all over the place in this song she is performing ("Genom Allt") and the backing singers/dancers are doing choreography last seen in Fame. (Speaking of said backing singers/dancers, they deserve major kudos, because I've seen most of them do the supporting work for many of the 10 entries.

314: Results, part 1. Dear sweet lord, Martin takes an early lead with the first region...and the second region. However Nanne takes the top vote from the third region. By the fourth region, it's a pretty close race between Martin, Nanne, and Alcazar. Martin takes back the lead with the fifth region. (What the hell are you people listening to?) Gothenburg shows some sense by giving low points to Martin and top marks to Nanne. Ditto Malmo. Stockholm gives its top mark to Shirley.

330: Recap, part two. I just sit by stunned that a daft song about Las Vegas just scored 102 points, while Nanne and Shirley are #2, and #3. This recap, by the way, is for the televoters. (The previous results were for the regional juries. Confused? Me too.)

334: Mark interviews Martin and Shirley. Martin is a bit of prick and interrupts Shirley a couple of times.

336: Jill Johnson is the third interval. (Like she'd accept this gig otherwise.) There's a tech glitch and Mark and Jill have some Swedish banter. I mention this, because she proceeds to sing (I swear to god and I am not kidding) "Redneck Woman." There is such a disconnect here that I begin to accept that perhaps we are all living on a spaceship orbiting through the 23rd galaxy. How Jill sings this song with a straight face is a mystery to me.

340: Just when you thought it was safe, they go bring back the offensive Cherokee gag again. I guess if you can have a Swedish woman sing "Redneck Woman," then you can be blatantly insulting to Native Americans. (Roger Pontare was respectful to Native Americans, heed the man.)

342: We are blissfully saved from more offensive stereotypes by Lena Ph, the fourth interval. In the year since her win, Lena seems to morphed into Janu from this year's Survivor. I would like to point out something to both Carola and Jill. Lena does not need a truckload of dancers to pull off a spectacular stage show. When she gets to "Det gor ont" her performance is almost movement for movement the same as it was last year. Rather impressive...in a way.

346: Carola is brought out to give the results to Mark and Jill. Why? I have no idea.

348: Results, part two. Alcazar and Shirley bow out early. Martin takes the second highest mark(110 points), while Nanne takes the top mark (132). However, due to the jury result Martin wins the lot. There is some solace to be taken in Nanne placing 2nd.

352: 31 songs were worst than a daft song about Las Vegas? This truly defies all logic. Is it the sympathy vote? No one deserves that much sympathy. Sweden's chances of getting into the final in 2006 (let's not even think about its chances of winning in Kiev) are now extremely dicey.

353: Martin can barely get through his performance. Unfortunately (for me), he soldiers on.

356: Ending theme? Still "Relight My Fire." (Although I retitle it "Set the lyricist for 'Las Vegas' on fire" this time.)

Some psychic once told me I had Liberace's hands: The Melodifestivalen 2005 Retrospective

Before things kick into high gear tonight (well it'll be 2 PM for me, but let's just pretend that 6 hour time difference doesn't exist) with the final for Melodifestivalen, let us take a look back at some of the highlights and low-lights that have been this MF 32 song odyssey. (Wow, I'm going to miss being able to write "MF" and it necessarily being a curse word.)

• Semi-Final 1: Those crazy kids in Gothenburg

It all started with Alcazar and their not too hard-to-forget number "Alcastar." (Makes it pretty damn easy to remember who performed that one.) Despite the rumour mill saying that the MF was trying to de-gay (or at least broaden the appeal) the contestants, this original two-queens-and-two-princesses group got into the 2nd chance round (which they subsequently won). We got introduced to the obligatory urban music slot (you could read "black" but later semi-finals would have multiple black contestants) which was the kiss of death for all those who performed in it. Also in Gothenburg, we had Linda Bengtzing marching around in deranged fashion wearing a Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band jacket, and Shirley Clamp and her Ethel Merman dress and massive cleavage. (Listen, she's mentioned it herself. I wasn't looking for them.) Nordman and Shirley go to the final and The Wallstones thankfully do not. (I still have nightmares about them.)

• Semi-Final 2: Let's offend them in Linköping

Sometimes I think my computer and/or my cable modem have a conscience. Why? Because the internet feed which was absolutely perfect the previous week was dire this one. Don't ask me why more people wanted to see this lot than wanted to see Alcazar and Shirley Clamp the week before. The only reason I can ascertain is the presence of Sanne Salomonsen. Anyway, the reason I believe that these electronic objects have a conscience is because the presenters Erik Haag (yes, you are one) and Henrik Schyffert (I'm certain Schyffert could be offensive in some language) thought it was funny to dress up in traditional Cherokee dress and mumble to the audience. (Because all Native American languages are incomprehensible...Ha ha.) Only slightly worse, was the reappearance of the sodding Olsen Brothers fresh from their 2nd place showing at the Danish final with some daft song about a yellow radio. (Unfortunately, said little radio was not dropped in a tub with an Olsen brother in it.) But MF Semi-Final 2 wasn't just about offensive stereotypes and decrepit Danes. It also featured the bizarre last placed showing of the truly regal Arja Saijonmaa, and the inexplicable wild-card placing of Josefin "Mamie Van Doren" Nilsson and Cameron "do a porn film and stop speaking your made-up language" Cartio.

• Semi-Final 3: Skellefteå - It's not just for scaring the living daylights out of you anymore

I missed this one when it first aired, so I've had to play catch-up with the videos as provided on SVT's wonderful website. It's nice to have one's guesses confirmed. NaNa is indeed Sweden's answer to Martha Wash and should've walked this semi over tiny ambiguously gendered Jimmy Jansson. (Unfortunately, the opposite happened.) Kwanzaa took their name from a well-intentioned but poorly executed holiday and morphed it into a poorly executed performance featuring a slang word that I have never heard before. K2 looked cool, but sounded daft (and why-oh-why is Alannah Myles singing with them?) . Jessica Folcker did a so-so performance of a so-so song and got 6th. And finally, for some perverse reason known only to the Swedish televoting public, Martin Stenmarck and his Las Vegas tourist board anthem go to the final. (The reports have Martin recovering from the flu, which is a double-edged sword for me, because: a) I want this song to fail miserably; b) I'm afraid this'll bring out the sympathy vote. Nonetheless, unless Martin goes all-Liberace on us, this will be bo-o-ring.)

• Semi-Final 4: Växjö is trying to break your heart

Probably the best semi-final line up so far. It starts out with hippie-art teacher Anne-Lie Rydé with an upbeat schlager song as performed on a chaise-lounge. (Had this song been in any other semi-final other than this one, I would be shocked that it only got 5th place.) She followed by B-Boys International featuring Paul M, performing the only decent urban song that MF has yielded this year. (Having now seen the performance, I'm guessing Paul M is the tiny black man who sang over the chorus. Not to be terribly offensive, but those white boys in B-Boys International are pretty decent rappers period.) Then things get really weird, as in Cirque-du-Soleil-on-LSD weird. How else can you explain Rickard Engfors and Katarina Fallholm? When all I was operating on was a picture and the song, I could not get past the "I'm such a lust magnet" lyrics coming out of a rail-thin, somewhat geeky man. Now that I've seen it, I get that it's all comical and surreal, and I like it. It had a snowball's chance in hell of even making it to the 2nd Chance round, but I do like it. A considerably more controlled blend of creativity came with Nanne Grönvall, who performs the living daylights out of "Håll om mig" while accompanied onstage by two relatively handsome guitarists, two energetic Sanne Salomonsen clones, and a woman playing the drums whilst wearing Karolina Gocheva's famed dress from 2002. Nanne makes this all work perfectly. (The lady did "Avundsjuk," ok? She's a master.) In fact, she's dressed in a Lena Ph dress that shows off her legs excellently. No surprise that she's the one to beat for the final.

(A suggestion to SVT: If you could get Nanne, Lena, and Tina Turner to perform together onstage, you would have a blockbuster programme. Heck, if you really wanted to win, you'll get them all together for an entry.)

Life Is Just Trippy When You're Hopped Up On Cough Syrup & Sudafed

Surely the world cannot be this crazy. I think it's the Sudafed/Robitussin cocktail I've been downing for the past several days to get rid of a vicious cold-cough.

• Yesterday, the local news channels spent nearly twenty minutes (non-stop) yapping about some runaway poodle on the Major Deegan Expressway.
• "Beauty Shop" a new movie (which may very well be based on the black theatre circuit hit of the same name) has got the most bizarre casts ever assembled: Queen Latifah, Kevin Bacon (looking like a heroin addict and playing a character called "Jorge"), Alfre Woodard, [Miss] Laura Hayes, Alicia Silverstone, Andie MacDowell, Mena Suvari, Djimon Hounsou, Della Reese, and Keshia Knight-Pulliam. Could you ever envision Della Reese and Alicia Silverstone in the same movie?
• Some two-bit "rapper" is advertising his latest disposable album up and down Sixth Avenue. Said album features a track entitled "M.I.A.M.I" short for "Money Is A Major Issue." This acronym trend has got to end.
• The Bankrupcy bill. We are now just several years away from people yelling "storm the Bastille!"
• I'm not excluding myself from this weirdness. Despite a vicious cough, nearly no voice, and short breath, I nonetheless chose to go to the gym on Tuesday, Thursday, and today. (Wednesday is my day off.) Frankly, I did a crap workout on Thursday, and today, when I met with my trainer, he kept on saying "your poor voice." After the workout he strongly suggested that I go home and rest for several days.

You know things are bad when someone whose livelihood depends on you showing up tells you to go home. (Although it was in an oddly quasi-fraternal/quasi-flirtatious way.)

I Want My MTV

As in Hungarian television, where they have chosen a 5 minute trance song as one of the entries for their national final. Granted, this final seems a bit too ballad heavy for my liking (how many sodding times can you say "I love you?" Get a new emotion), but any final where the 3 minute rule is thrown out the window, features trance, rock, (and indeed trance-rock) is fine by me. The Hungarian National Final also features one of the most interesting group names (maybe it means something else in Hungarian, I don't know) with "Baby Gaby és Lala," visually represented by a spiky peroxide blonde man and the brunette Hungarian answer to Lady Kier of Deee-Lite.

Does it matter if you come out?

There are several interesting discussions on Data Lounge as to whether it matters if celebrities come out or not. One side says that it's irrelevant, because it won't make a whit of difference in respect to homophobia in society. The other side says that they definitely should, because it might give the angst-ridden people in the closet the courage to come out. Then there's another faction that says that it is all right if one plays "Don't Ask Don't Tell" with the media, but if you beard/merkin yourself and/or make homophobic statements then it is only fair that you get outed.

I'm frankly puzzled as to where I stand. There is a strong activist side of me that advocates coming out period. If you have gay sex, then come out the closet, no excuses. Yet, after discussing this with some friends, I have to admit that sometimes this does not take into account the fact that most people are not activists and quite honestly just want to live their daily lives.

For me, my identity is so intertwined with being a gay man of colour, that it would be near impossible to have to hide it from the world. Yet, I must admit that I'm being partly hypocritical here, because I know that there are times when it is just easier to lie and say that you're straight in order to deflect focus off of you. For example, I went to a store to get Garrett an opening night present. Two days later, I went in again to get a closing night one and the woman working there said: "I know you. You were in here to get your girlfriend a present." Now, I had never mentioned a girlfriend when I was there earlier. In fact, I said "good friend." I corrected her, but for some inexplicable reason I added "...My girlfriend would totally want something else."

I really can't explain why I did it. The more I think about it, I feel horrible that I did say it. Certainly, I could justify it by saying that "girlfriend" is a term that can mean female romantic partner or female friend, but we all know that when some says "girlfriend" they mean lover.

So my vow to myself from here on in, is to catch myself when I do this quick journeys to the closet. If one believes in being out, then you have to be out period. Even if your knee-jerk reaction says otherwise.

A rational person knows that the Sun has no sound: The Spanish Final 2005

First off, I'm pissed at the result. A witty song about internet porn as performed by Spain's Phyllis Diller Impersonators Club is certainly better than three trophy wives singing about witchcraft.

Secondly, I'm coming into this final late. (I couldn't be here to watch it, so I had to watch it via my DVR. Unfortunately Time Warner and TVE International are having a spat, and TVE won't tell Time Warner what is on when so what I'm watching is just called "Especial" and starts midway through the actual final.)

So what I see is Don Carlos and Patty "Paula Abdul" Perez (who looks she is now taking all her tips from Jennifer Lopez) prattling on about the semi. Patty is still drugged up and has unbelievably stiff shoulders...mostly likely due to her hair threatening to collapse. They bring on Ainhoa, who will be playing Farrah Fawcett tonight...feathered hair and all. TVE's wardrobe designers still hate her, so they've given her only one strap to hold up her dress.

Don Carlos gives us another recap before we start the weeding out. I notice that he has on an Iglesias-esque necklace. Oh Charlie, I'll give you some, but please start dressing your age. It's embarassing for the Iglesiases and it's embarassing for you.

Anyway:

• Maria Lorente: Still looks like Nia Vardalos. Still singing through her nose. Still sucks.
• Jaster: As camp as a Joan Crawford marathon in Chueca. Alcazar eats groups like this for breakfast.
• Las Supremas: (Sigh) Heavenly. Why doesn't the UK send something like this? I'm certain there's a group of bitter British housewives out there just chomping at the bit to belt out a good rant like this. Las Supremas rule my world. You're the real winners, you divas you.
• Lanco: Matchbox Twenty with added involuntary muscle spasms.
• A Crew: Kevin Federline's Spanish twin remains as hot and on-key as ever. Abs's Spanish twin still out of his limit. Dancers still looking like they want to say "don't mess with me, puta."
• Enzo: Stop shouting and actually sing.
• Katherina: You were embarassed by the crowd singing happy birthday? What about that hippie-poncho-and-hot-pants outfit? What about the million dirty jokes that can be made with a song with the title "crazy mouth?" Get some perspective, lady.
• Pierre 'N sue: I repeat, dump the song, get naked, and do a porn with your backing singer.
• Son del Sol: Hags. Trashy hags, and not even comically trashy like Las Supremas.
• Felipe Conde: Go back to your telenovela.
• Gema: Yes, m'dear, you still rock. A diamond in the rough, although I truly wish I understood Spanish enough to figure out why you're singing about Job.
• Yulia: Trashy whore. Seriously. I have seen hookers wear that type of outfit on 9th Avenue.

(Brace yourselves, the venom will be running hot tonight.)

Don Carlos-Iglesias tells the audience to shut it while he gives out the names of the six performers who won't proceed to the final. The camera goes to a shot of a nervous Patty in the box of doom. I think she's on her come-down from E. Yulia holds onto Lanco's lead singer like a complete fame-whore. The audience eventually shuts it. Don Carlos-Iglesias finally gets around to giving the list after the longest list of qualifiers ("the entries not chosen to go to the final as decided by the Spanish public..."). And they are:

• Jaster: Because Sweden is going to pick Alcazar and you don't want to split the 2 gay males-2 fag hag vote.
• Gema: Evil! Just flat out evil. Gema gives Don Carlos a hug. Grace in defeat.
• Katherina: She gives Don Carlos a kiss. Shame she didn't get through, she was actually dressed like a normal person tonight.
• Pierre 'N sue: Believe me when I tell you to do the porn. Pierre has an extended hug with Kevin Federline from A Crew. Be still my aching loins. He also has pretty long kisses and hugs with Felipe Conde, Yulia (eww!), Patty, and Maria. Pierre, you are a slut. I love you, especially when you are dressed in a tight shirt and jeans.
• A Crew: For some odd reason they clap for themselves getting eliminated. Kevin Federline gets a long hug from Felipe Conde. Sr. Kevin is also wearing a sleeveless shirt. How dare you deny me the lust-filled sight of seeing him perform dressed like that?!
• Maria Lorente: I may be hearing this wrong, but I swear there's a group of girls yelling "puerca, puerca" upon hearing that Maria is out of the running. Oy, she's not fat, she's just untalented. I may very well be wrong since the crowd then starts yelling "MA-RI-A, MA-RI-A" until Don Carlos tells them to shut it.

The flip side of this means that we still unfortunately have Lanco, Enzo, Yulia, and Son del Sol. Happily though, this means Las Supremas are still in. By the way, having all the eliminated contestants stand up onstage while the finalists are in the Box of Doom, seems perversely cruel. Has TVE been watching American Idol? If so, they should know that the producers have been reamed for the cruelty of the elimination programmes. Not a good example to follow.

The American Idol simularities continue as Don Carlos introduces a clip reel similiar to American Idol's "we-know-you're-not-dying-but-we'll-put-on-music-that-makes-it-seem-like-it" clip reel for eliminated contestants. Geez, when did this show switch from uppers to downers? The sad music is quite hilarious during the A Crew clip where one of the dancers does his "don't mess with me, puta" look.

It's up to Patty and her club drugs to perk up the mood as she points out the finalists in the Box of Doom. She does a good job of doing so. Patty's got the good stuff tonight, not the over-the-counter fakes.

Guess what? We have a special guest and it's Paulina Rubio. She just comes a-struttin' down the stairs like it's an Italian variety show circa 1987. Her high-class-hooker dress only accents that fact. Oh my god, there are bubbles being blown in the background. It is at this point that realise that she's singing some ridiculously dated ballad called "Mia" that would (shock) not be out of place on an Italian variety show circa 1987.

Don Carlos leeches over Paulina during her post-performance interview. He feigns interest while staring at her clevage. Charlie, we know you're just acting.

After the commercials, Don Carlos does his umpteenth yelling of "Te deum." I'm sick of it and so is the crowd so they yell it back at him, leaving a very perplexed Don Carlos onstage. He tells them to shut it, because he's the STAR! Also because he has to give the numbers to vote for the finalists, but mainly because he's vain and he thinks this national final is about him. I think Carly Simon wrote "you're so vain" about Don Carlos, aging second-rate pretty boy.

Patty's drugs kick into high gear as she interviews Las Supremas from the Box of Doom. We then see their little postcard video. It's cute and comical. I'd love to know what the residents of Mostoles (at least I think it's Mostoles) think of seeing three middle aged women with peroxide hair singing "you're a sicko" in the middle of a town square. We see their husbands. They look like middle-ranking policemen. One of them is as dead as box of nails on camera.

And would you believe it? They actually get around to performing. The ladies are even better than last night. They manage the very enviable trick of making a lyric like "I'll make you eat your fucking monitor" come across as classy. The crowd goes wild as do I.

Patty then starts harassing Lanco, and I'm confused. Is Lanco the band or just the overly emotional Donny Osmond lookalike fronting it? Lanco's postcard then starts up and I'm still confused since we meet the band, but Donny Osmond keeps referring to himself as "Lanco." If I actually cared about him, I'd give this more thought. I don't, however, and I'd be quite happy to see his Eurovision dreams smashed.

Don Carlos then harasses Lanco before unfortunately allowing him to perform. (Charlie, you're so pan-sexual.) Lanco is wearing a nearly floor-length coat, so his spastic movements don't come across as silly as they did yesterday. I will just pint out one thing: the crowd liked Las Supremas a lot more than this bland dreck. Lanco whips off the coat towards the end, but only the fan girls are excited.

Don Carlos gives us the numbers again over a funky version of "Te Deum." Everybody goes crazy for Las Supremas. The fan girls lose it for Lanco and Enzo. Oh, how deluded thou art. Nobody screams for Son del Sol, Felipe, or Yulia. Explain the result, then, people. Explain!

And we're back to Patty, who isn't freaking out at the near medical close-up that she is getting from the camera. (The drugs do work.) She reintroduces us to Enzo. What do we learn from Enzo's postcard? He is very boring...very boring. He's got a boring family, boring friends, boring hobbies, boring hair, and...zzzz.

Happily though, Enzo does at least manage to add some much needed life to his song. In fact, I think he's kind of angry in the smiling-while-I-curse-you way. Unfortunately, he's still off-key, and the song still sounds like something from a teenage soap opera. In fact, I think Enzo should go try out the teenage soap operas. The boy needs to get out of his dull existence (and off my television).

After the commercials and Don Carlos's juvenile jumping around (Charlie, are you dipping into Patty's pills?) we're introduced to more confirmed winners being shipped off to Kiev:

• Bulgaria: The song still has some of the most dumbest lyrics ever, and the lead singer looks stunned. (Then again, the Bulgarian national final wasn't too pleasant for many of the participants with all the threats of violence and non-singing singers.) Visually, it's what you would imagine the Bulgarian entry would look like: a flashback to 1991.
• Denmark: Wow, Jakob comes across as tweaked out as Deen did last year. The only difference is that the thought of Jakob prancing around half-naked is even worse than seeing Deen do it.

Patty, however, is tweaking and doesn't care who knows it. She introduces us to the clip video for Son del Sol (Hags!). If I didn't know ahead of time that these witches won this thing over Las Supremas, then I'd be happy to have them in the final. Unfortunately for them, I do. So who are these Andalucian women claiming to speak for the sun? Esperanca, Lola, and Sole. Ladies, are you even trying to make yourselves come across as real people instead of spoiled trophy wives? We see them arrogantly lead a flamenco dance off. I know you have to perform flamenco with a "pissed off" face but really, lose the attitude. Highlight of the postcard: a grandmother pulling off an impressive bit of flamenco. These suns-of-bitches (sorry, I just had to say it) talk about conquering the world, or maybe just Italy and Miami. Again, how deluded thou art.

Ugh. The crowd starts yelling that infernal "ole-ole-ole" chant as the trophy wives wave pageant queen-like from the stage. They are dressed inherently better tonight. (See, I can say nice things about Son del Sol.) Tonight's curtains-turned-into-dresses are better than the pirate outfits they had on. Don Carlos leches over them, which makes it all the more unsettling as they give their thanks to their families (who happen to be in the audience--ah, so there are tons of Andalucians in the crowd, now I get it).

The singing however has not improved and they still have the loud idiot "singing" backup. I would be the first person to admit that I know nothing about Andalucian singing, but I have trouble believing that it is: a) supposed to be off-key; and b) shouted. Look at Remedios Amaya in 1983, she sang flamenco and gave a kick-ass performance while strangling her vowels within an inch of their lives. (Just for clarification purposes: I'm in the group that believes it should have scored far higher than zero.) These wilting flowers, however, don't have even a half of a quarter of an ounce of what she had.

Oh lord, the big idiot doing backup is not only ruining the "song," but he's also hurting my eyes by sporting a huge feather earring. The insipid background dancers are still there, but they've been there for nearly all the songs and are just at their tackiest during this performance. Moral of this story: Do not underestimate the power of Andalucian televoters.

Don Carlos yet again tells the crowd to shut it, then works them up again by asking how they want to win. Las Supremas? Loud cheer. Yulia? Moderate cheer. Felipe Conde? Tiny cheer. (HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.) Evil witches proclaiming to speak for the Sun? Loud cheer. (Damn.)

Patty and her wild hand gesticulations introduce the postcard for Felipe Conde. He's a loner, this one. We meet his father, who looks like an old hippie. His mother, however, looks like a top-level executive. Yikes, that must've been a fun house to grow up in. (Not!) The rest of his friends and family can muster no emotion to support Felipe. Oh, this is a real surprise: His favourite past time after music is soccer/football. My wish to see him hit with a fast ball sadly does not come to pass.

Ooh! Don Carlos is nervous around Felipe. (I knew it! Felipe had to have provided some sort of sexual favour to get this far. Remember, he was originally a backup entry.) Don Carlos + Felipe = Lovers forever.

Felipe performs and I don't care. In fact, the most interesting thing about it is when they go to the Box of Doom to see Yulia and Lanco flirting (Lanco, do you have any idea how many people she has been with?) and Las Supremas and Son del Sol trying to act interested in the song by swaying back and forth. Honestly, you ladies do not have to be kind to Felipe. In fact, I think he likes it when you're nasty to him.

Felipe finally over, Ainhoa comes back onstage to give a nice and respectful speech about a recently deceased presenter, whose name, sadly, I cannot make out. This segues into a sweet and funny clip show of Eurovision interview bloopers from the 1971 contest. A particularly hilarious bit is an interview with Clodagh Rogers while both are standing on stools.

Back in the final inspired by drug experiences from 1971: We see Yulia's postcard. Yulia likes to work out a lot. She loves to salsa with random beanie-wearing men. She loves Spain (even though she's from Russia, and not Ukraine as I incorrectly translated last night). She loves her motley crew of "friends." (Apparently that is the new way to describe your fellow whores and pimps.) Some strait-laced man (and probably a former client) praises Yulia's singing. (Yeah, uh huh, she's a good singer...and this has nothing to do with the money that changed hands prior to this interview?) A big goateed burly man (aka Yulia's pimp/manager) calls her "an artist" while making sure to mention that Yulia is sexy. An adoring fellow hooker looks on with a glazed expression while Pimp Daddy lies to the camera. Another beanie wearing man/client says that Yulia is "stupendous." (I'd say "stupid," but that's just me.) He adds that she'd do well in Kiev. He kindly forgets to mention that she would do well in Kiev IF: she wasn't singing this song; she wasn't in a contest with the vastly superior Las Supremas; she didn't dress like a cheap Russian porn star.

Yulia is dressed in gold hooker wear tonight. It is only a slight improvement from the 1980's hooker wear from the semi. Her "singing" is slightly improved, but it's like putting a band-aid over a severed limb. The backing dancers are still there and still horrifying, as is Yulia's busom and booty shaking. The lyrics are pretty dire, because I can tell you that "America" will not dance to this rhythm as the song suggests. For some inexplicable reason, there is a "YU-LI-A" cheer from the crowd. I suspect these are the same people who cheered "MA-RI-A" earlier and still have it in their system.

Don Carlos comes back with the obvious news that we have now heard all the finalists for Eurovision in Kiev, Ukraine. (Charlie, I think you underestimate the Spanish public. I'm pretty certain they know Kiev isn't in Galicia.) We then begin the recap and everything that I wrote earlier still applies. In fact, Yulia looks even more trampy the third time around.

After commercials (we get trailers here on TVE International), Don Carlos and Ainhoa introduce another clip reel of Eurovision history. It's all about women and bad hair. It's also over in two seconds.

Don Carlos introduces Marta Sanchez who looks like a cheap 1995 Madonna imitator. That being said, her song is quite catchy and makes me nostalgic for the early 1990's. The nineties nostalgia is further enhanced by having backing dancers dressed in skin tight performance artist black. Can we have her in the final instead of Yulia, Enzo, Lanco, Felipe Conde, and Son del Sol? I'd still vote for Las Supremas, but it would be more difficult. By the way, Marta is lip-syncing. (HAHAHAHAHA)

Don Carlos then gives us some blind results. He's such a tease. Someone has 25.1%, another has 23%, another has 16.1 %, followed by 13.3%, 12.6%, and some poor soul with only 9.9%. He tosses over to Patty, who harasses the Box of Doom by speaking in a higher voice than an adult woman should use. She's also morphed from Jennifer Lopez into Irene Cara.

Then we do get a real treat. Don Carlos brings on some bona-fide Spanish Eurovision all-stars: Karina (who is too perky for a woman of her age), Micky (well, Julio Iglesias is still copping an attitude about singing for Spain in 1970), and Azucar Moreno (who are not having backing track problems). Karina and Patty must be getting their stuff from the same dealer, because Karina is flying high on something chemical. Micky is on something too. Conversely, Azucar Moreno are absolutely regal when Don Carlos comes around to harass them.

The weirdness is punctuated by "special musical guest" Francisco singing "My Way" in Spanish. Francisco is what Don Carlos would look like if he actually relaxed: stately and swarthy. As much as I hate ballads, I have to say that Francisco performs the living daylights out of it. (Arguably even better than Frank Sinatra.)

Patty Cara harasses Felipe and makes him jumpy. (He likes the men, Patty. Didn't you see Don Carlos get all schoolgirl-like with him earlier?) Her vixen-like ways have no effect on Enzo. Las Supremas seem to laughing at her.

Ainhoa then comes on and says that she doesn't know about Patty, but she's calm. (Lady, what have you done all night other than introduce clips? Of course you're calm!) She has more confirmed participants for Kiev:

• Finland: Geir is dull. His song is old. His butt is big. His shirt has annoying sparkles on it. His hair is bad. Shall I continue?
• Russia: (Sigh.) All my previous complaints about this grammatically incorrect song still apply. If someone wrote a song with grammatically poor Russian in it, I bet the Russians would be pissed as well. Stellar performance though.

We then go into the audience where Patty molests the contestants' families. Lanco's fan girls are for once tranquil. How telling.

Don Carlos and Ainhoa reappear to tease us about the results. But first, let's see a movie about stripping in the Eurovision, shall we? It actually is quite informative inasmuch as seeing Danijela throwing off her cloak, Doris throwing off her cloak, Sakis Rouvas throwing off his jacket, and Deen thrusting his way through "In the Disco" can be informative.

Don Carlos comes back, promising us that he has the results. (Oh Charlie, it's the lying that hurts most of all.) But first, Paulina Rubio performs. She's changed her look from late 1980's Italian variety show to early 1990's rock club. Perhaps by Autumn, she'll actually be wearing something from 2005? Paulina's song is a decent Shakira knock-off. I'd pay more attention, except I'm getting pissed that we haven't had the results yet. (And I already know what they are! I just want to see in what sadistic way they give them.)

After Paulina, Patty tries to quell the riot in the crowd by showing some clips of celebrities speaking in funny voices. Further proof that Patty is crying out to be sent off to rehab.

Don Carlos shows us the blind results again and says he is going to reveal the top 3. (I'm thinking of filing for divorce from you, Charlie. You lie too much. I can take the cheating, but this deception is beyond my limits.) Surprisingly, he does actually get around to saying the results after a whole bunch of qualifiers and a nod to the name who verified them. And the top three are:

• 16.4% Felipe Conde. (He's serene about it. I'm indifferent.)
• 23% Las Supremas (The queens in the crowd go wild. The Andalucians start chanting "SON-DE-SOL." New Yorker sitting by the television goes "what the f**k happened there?" Las Supremas proclaim their contentment.)

Then there's a long unnecessary stall by Don Carlos as he brings out some EBU bureaucrat and the Director of TVE in order to announce the winner. Why, Charlie, why?

• 25.1% Son de Sol. The crowd goes wild. I try to contain my anger from kicking in my television set. (Just remember it could've been Yulia.)

The witches are overwrought as they get trinkets from the EBU bureaucrat and good luck wishes from the TVE bureaucrat. The EBU bureaucrat has one worst accents for speaking English in. It's embarassing.

Then the witches' families come on and there is brief anarachy which freaks Don Carlos out. The witches just start singing and to be honest, I expected a more chaotic result for a final that seemed to be designed by LSD.

If there is a god, they will at least drop the rusty-voiced man before they go to Kiev.

Melodifestivalen Semi-Final 5: The Second Chances

I guess there won't be any live coverage since SVT held it, voted, and finished it in a New York minute. (Seriously, I step out for one second and I come back and find out that the dern thing has already been completed.)

Oh well.

Anyway, Alcazar and Linda are going to the final. (Despite NaNa not making it, I can most certainly live with this result.)

Linda, honey, did you follow my suggestion and bite the head off a bat?

Norway goes for a hair band

...and they have shockingly good song. I'm just worried about the visual performance of "In My Dream."

Some sanity exists with the Swedish televoters: Melodifestivalen 2005 Semi-Final 4 The results

Nanne made top 2. Enough said.

Seriously. That's all. I got it right.

Wait? Oh, what about the others? There were no other entrants other than...

Bugger. All right. Here are the results:

Going to the Final

• Nanne Grönvall - Håll om mig (Hurrah! Justice)
• Caroline Wennergren - A different kind of love (...with a different kind of voice that 'tain't pleasing to my ear)

They got on their knees and said "give us a second chance, please"

• Katrina & The Nameless - As if tomorrow will never come (It's actually today and you'll be pretty lucky if Alcazar doesn't whup your hides)
• Mathias Holmgren - Långt bortom tid och rum (Are Dyson vacuum cleaners sold in Sweden?)

The numbered placings of shame

5th: Anne-Lie Rydé - Så nära (Mathias and Caroline, you're very lucky...watch out for horse's heads in your beds)

6th: B-Boys International featuring Paul M - One Step Closer (see previous comment)

7th: Date - Hörde änglarna viska ditt namn (Don't cry for them, this will live on as a soap opera theme song, I reckon)

8th: Rickard Engfors & Katarina Fallholm - Ready for me (I told you Rickard! No one is going to believe you as some sort of Don Juan with that reedy body.)

Nanne going to the final along with Shirley Clamp mildly makes up for Arja getting last place, but it is no remedy for the fact that we will still be forced to endure Martin and that god-awful "Las Vegas" song.

And here's the line-up for today's Second Chance show (hopefully to be subtitled: "Alcazar and NaNa pounce over all the others"):

1. Alcazar - Alcastar (Enough said.)
2. Linda Bengtzing -Alla flickor (Please, oh, please bite the head off a bat Linda. We know you want to.)
3. Josefin Nilsson - Med hjärtats egna ord (You and your hjärt can just go away.)
4. Cameron Cartio - Roma (Do some porn and then I'll care.)
5. NaNa - Whatever you do (...don't vote for the previous two)
6. LaGaylia - Nothing at all (What an apt title. The song is indeed nothing at all.)
7. Mathias Holmgren - Långt bortom tid och rum (In the interest of being fair, the song is indeed better than the one that proceeded it. Seriously people, that was a high quality semi.)
8. Katrina & The Nameless - As if tomorrow will never come (Hopefully it won't for Katrina and her anonymous backers but it will come for Alcazar and NaNa. Yeah, I'm biased.)

Live coverage of MF (hee hee) makes its belated return later today.

And yes, mis amigos españoles, I just read about who won the Spanish final. I assure you I will be extra vicious and deadly in my recap. (I think I was too kind to Patty and Don Carlos last time.) "Sound of the sun," indeed.

It is about husbands looking at internet porn

Courtesy of Phentesilea (muchas gracias), here's a translation of Las Supremas' brilliant "Eres un enfermo:"

A weekend in El Corte Inglés
You conviced me to buy Net service
Damn moment, it was my perdition
Because, since that day, we didn't have sex anymore.
You don't look at me now, you don't care about me
and if I try to seduce you, you say to me "for what?"
That, with these bodies, you find cheaper the Net women, and that you prefer spending the whole day in front of the pc.

You're a sicko, you're a sicko / You're a sicko of cyber-sex / You cheat on me, you cheat on me / WWW dot hot-girls dot com / See, my love, this is a hell / See, my love, I want to divorce. / You're a sicko, you're a sicko / You're a sicko of cyber-sex / You cheat on me, you cheat on me / with the hard disk, the monitor and the mouse. / See, my love, this is a hell / See, my love, gimme the divorce.

A night I couldn't sleep
I heard very strange noises, very strange for me.
He was my husband having sex with some kind of Pamela, inside the PC.
You don't love me yet, you don't care about me.
That cyber love is a poison
And if I get sexy, you say to me that you like more the plain Net service.
But on a not very far day, I'll get angry and you will eat your fucking monitor !!!!

You're a sicko, you're a sicko / You're a sicko of cyber-sex / You cheat on me, you cheat on me / WWW dot hot girls dot com / See, my love, this is a hell / See, my love, I want to divorce. / You're a sicko, you're a sicko / You're a sicko of cyber-sex / You cheat on me, you cheat on me / with the hard disk, the monitor and the mouse. / See, my love, this is a hell / See, my love, gimme the divorce.

Lyrical heaven that is.

Because Saturdays were made for National Finals and not working out: Melodifestivalen 2005 Semi-Final 4

Well, my gay male credibility is assured: I'm skipping my usual Saturday morning workout to listen to this week's Melodifestivalen entries and later on today I'm going back up to New Haven to see Garrett go kick butt as Huck in Big River. (Only today & tomorrow left, folks.) Alas, that means no live review, but a bifurcated one instead (review & catty results).

Anyway, here are our candidates for Växjö:

• Anne-Lie Rydé - Så nära: Anne looks like the skeletal hippie art teacher you had in school. Fortunately, she gives us a nice, happy, and brassy schlager song. I like her. A thin sassy version of Shirley Clamp.
• B-Boys International featuring Paul M - One Step Closer: But just which Paul M, I ask? The title "One Step Closer" yielded a quasi-New Have entry for the UK in 1982. For MF (hee hee) 2005, it yields an early 1990's techno/rap combination that is shockingly good. (I can't believe I'm about to use the following expression.) It has mad beats. It also has one of the oddest groupings I've seen so far at these MF finals: A tiny smiling black man, a huge spiky-haired Thor type, a smaller spiky-haired Jack the lad, a grimacing man in corn-rows, and a long-haired "artist" type. Dear lord, I can't believe I like this, but it is that good.
• Mathias Holmgren - Långt bortom tid och rum: The man from the Dyson vacuum cleaner commercials (or his Swedish twin) performs a standard upbeat schlager song. Jiminy, I actually do prefer the B-boys (dare I ask if the "b" stands for "beat"?) over this.
• Rickard Engfors featuring Katarina Fallholm - Ready for me: Skinny man with a dirty mind and mouth speaks over techno accompanied by an operatic soprano. This is Sweden, so I cannot say that this combo surprises me. Musically, it's excellent, arguably on par with the B-Boys and Anne-Lie. Lyrically, I have my doubts that tiny, rake-thin Rickard has any measure of sex appeal. Katarina is excellent, however.
• Date - Hörde änglarna viska ditt namn: I know this is something about "angels whispering your name." What it sounds like is 'Nsync covering The Stylistics...in Swedish. Not one of the Stylistics' funky, upbeat songs, but a ballad. It would be more impressive if the lead singer of Date decided to go for the falsetto. And what does Date look like? 'NSync 2020...not pretty at all.
• Nanne Grönvall - Håll om mig: I quite unashamedly fall to the feet of Miss Grönvall, because she does "bring it" MF entry after MF entry (in both senses of the acronym "mf"). This year, the elfin Nanne seems to be channeling Mija Martina's wall-of-sound guitars, booming backing singers, booming voice et. al. I love this, even more than the B-boys and Anne-Lie. (Boy, this is a good semi.) Coincidentally, Mija Martina is in this year's Bosnian final too with a song that is in the same wall-of-sound style. I most definitely would like to see a Nanne-versus-Mija showdown in Kiev.
• Caroline Wennergren - A different kind of love: It's Cerys Matthews's black girl (or drag queen) protege. SVT's website says that Caroline is an "Ella Fitzgerald look-a-like." SVT's writers are blind. Ella Fitzgerald never looked like a street walker, nor did she sound drunk out of her gourd while singing. Caroline, in fact, sounds like she-of-Catatonia fame, especially on this lounge/samba song. Not terribly original lyrics, but I'll give them some meager credit for referrencing marital infidelity.
• Katrina & The Nameless - As If Tommorow Will Never Come: Well, Katrina and her quasi-Waves seem to be stuck in 1989 with Meatloaf. (This is what happens when you present a BBC Radio 2 show for several years.) I actually can't crticise this too much since the primary flaw is that this is ridiculously dated, with asinine lyrics. (You don't talk about "rocking," you actually do it.)

So, here are my (bound-to-be-off-by-a-mile) desired predictions:

To the final:

1. Nanne Grönvall
2. B-Boys International

To the Second chance round (tommorow, dear lord):

1. Anne-Lie Rydé
2. Rickard Engfors & Katarina Fallholm (I just have to see how bizarre that live performance is)

Drugs and Eurovision National Finals don't mix: Spanish Eurovision Semi-Final

There is one ESC final that I can watch on regular TV and curiously enough, it is Spain's, courtesy of TVE International. (So the Swedes get a break...Just kidding, I love you guys, especially the ones who have been leaving comments here.)

From the second I see the psychedelic graphics, I get the sense that we are not in Vaxjo. "Tonight Show" music plays as stills of the competitors (all relatively unknown, apparently) flash by "Hullabaloo" style.

Oh my lord, the set! Is this a national final or Sabado Gigante? Our intrepid host, Carlos Lozano--who is not as sexy as the name would imply--is seeming to channel Don Francisco as he rapidly manages to mention that this is to decide the song for Kiev as well as mention the tons of guest performers (*cough* padding *cough*), which includes Maria Isabel (the plucky little thing that won last year's Junior Eurovision (great song, but ugh...the JESC), Rosa (the plucky not so little thing who represented Spain in 2002), David Civera (who represented Spain in 2001 and while not plucky, is indeed little), and Rosario (who I'm thinking is clearly not Shelley Morrison).

He then gives the performers their marching orders to walk down the stairway in the middle of the stage and into what I'm calling the "audience box of doom." There's so much to harp about these contestants that I'm going to save it for when they actually perform, but suffice to say: it's bad, good, trashy, and camp.

Don Carlos then tosses it over to his co-host Ainhoa Arbizu (is she the Ainhoa from Operacion Triunfo?) who is dressed in a gown clearly designed by someone who thinks Ainhoa is a crazy slut. Ainhoa seems sweet, but not entirely there, I believe she actually confirms that last bit in her rapid spiel. Joining Don Carlos and Ainhoa "Celestia" Arbizu, is Patricia Perez who takes her hair tips from Jennifer Lopez and her clothing tips from Teri Hatcher in Soapdish. Oh, this will be fun...I like her.

Patricia then asks "who is Maria Lorente?" I have no idea. She is apparently a sweet little girl who resembles Sara Rue. She'll also be singing Vente p'al sur. Maria is dressed like a chick, as in baby chicken. Oy. The song starts out with a long-haired hippie type rapping and then Maria comes on does the same before singing...poorly. Dear lord these lyrics are bad. From what I can ascertain, this is another one of those tourist board songs about "coming to the sun" and what not. All I can say is that I am happy I have this on DVR. I get to thinking Maria wishes she could fast-forward out of this. She proves my point by screeching at the end.

Ainhoa reminds us that it's the 50th Eurovision Song Contest this year, don'cha know. And jiminy cricket, there are some dire outfits in Eurovision history (including a bizarre leather outfit worn by Ulrika Jonsson in 1998). I'm too visually horrified to pay attention to the deep voiced announcer, but I think he's going for something along the lines of "my god, you people have some horrible wardrobe designers."

Patricia introduces us to Jaster: Spain's amateur version of Alcazar. They will be "performing" Como olvidarte. The members include: Victor, who should be playing his guitar and not cavorting around in a daft hat; Pinar, who lay off the cocaine while teaching aerobics; Jorge, who has big hair and "choreographs"; and Patricia, who shops too much. People you do not have any idea how hilarious this is. It's 90210 meets ABBA.

And this is before they perform. Victor is sporting an all black tank-top and trousers ensemble that shows his dagger tattoo and tinier arms than expected. Patricia is wearing Victoria Beckham black dress #386: lace and bosom enhancement. Jorge goes for butch drag in a sweatshirt and combat trousers (oh honey, don't hide your from inner queen). Pinar is wearing some mini skirt and busty blouse that Tiffany wore in 1986. Don Carlos mentions ABBA and Pinar gives the "don't know-don't care" answer. I pray there is a lot more self-awareness going on here than meets the eye. And then they perform...this is comic gold! It's every 2 male-2 female pop group you've seen but unbelievably out-of-tune and embarrassing. It's also tens times more suggestive (because these people are pushing 40!) which would be sexy, save for the fact that Victor looks like he'd rather do drugs and I can't believe any of these women being genuinely lustful after Jorge. This is better than acid, but if this gets selected for Kiev...well, good that Spain has automatic entry to the final.

Because this is Lewis Carroll's version of a national final, Ainhoa segues into a piece that asks the performers (I am being dead serious here): "Have you voted in the European Constitution elections?" The ladies of Las Supremas laugh, because they know how silly the question is. Maria Lorente says "no." (Now you get terse?) Pinar from Jaster prattles on while the rest of Jaster sits around her and looks pretty...rough. Then the question turns to "the Windsor building fire." I have no clue why this is interesting. And apparently neither does the control room, because we hear a Suprema say a phrase and we're back to Don Carlos.

Don Carlos tosses over to Patricia who introduces us to Las Supremas de Mostoles, a trio of Phyllis Diller-esque housewives with a brilliant song entitled Eres un enfermo (I believe that translates as "you're a sicko"). I love them already. The deep voiced announcer man does his job where we see that these are Spain's own Desperate Housewives via Roseanne and peroxide. Again, this is all before they perform...and what are they dressed in? Well, Phyllis Diller outfits and wigs circa 1974 in sparkling grey, black, and red.

Oh my lord, this is cracking me up! The song is as funny as the title implies and catchy as hell. I can't really make out the exact lyrics but I think they are basically one long housewives' flamenco-tinged musical rant against husbands who spend their time looking at internet porn. How badly I want this to win. Interestingly enough, Las Supremas manage to be the only entrants to stay on pitch and on key. (Jaster and Maria, the comedy act is kicking your butt vocally.)

Because Las Supremas brought it, and the rest of the acts are now cowering, there's a commercial break.

When we get back, Don Carlos is clearly having a good time...because he gets Patricia and Ainhoa to do all his work. Speaking of which, Patricia introduces Maria Isabel, but Don Carlos walks her down the steps. She's too young for psychedelic drugs, you know. Maria Isabel is dressed much more conservatively than her JESC appearance, which clearly came from the JonBenet Ramsey-style of dressing. Don Carlos gives her the JESC award, which, wouldn't she have that already? It was last autumn.

But it's not all about Maria Isabel, but Lanco, who are your standard Spanish-language rock band. They like soccer and aren't too keen on wearing colours other than black off the pitch. The camera switches to a group of fan girls with "Lanco" t-shirts. They are deluded (both Lanco and their "fans"). Lanco will be favouring us with the song nada para ti, nada para mí. The lead singer, who looks like Donny Osmond, does several spastic movements before singing. I can't really be catty about them, because they perform it decently (and close to on-key) and it's upbeat rock, but it's still not as good as Las Supremas. In fact it's all quite Matchbox 20 in Spanish.

Patricia, her breasts, and her fishnet stockings talk to A-Crew who will being singing the hip-hop boyband flavoured El Swatch. I wish I understood Spanish better because I'd love to know what could be so interesting about a watch. A-Crew manage the easy feat of being the most handsome men to grace the stage so far (even the one with dread locks). One of the members (Austin?) looks like Kevin Federline, while another looks like Q-Tip, and another looks like Abs Breen of 5ive fame. (Why do I know things like this?) They are all wearing Pony brand zipper fleeces, read into that what you will. And what is the performance like? 5ive as a quartet. Mr. Spears proves himself as a decent singer, Abs not so much. Q-Tip and the other one don't sing at all, but instead pull off some pretty fierce choreography. Yes, I said fierce because Q-Tip pulled the infamous "don't mess with me, Queen" face that only queens can do. Oh how I love you, Spanish Semi-Final. Actually, the song is not too bad and the eye-candy/crotch vote would work in their favour over actual singing talent. I now get the sex appeal of Kevin Federline.

A-Crew weren't as acid induced as this final would like, so it's time to ask more serious questions to people whose opinion you didn't need to know. This time around the subject is the Kyoto Treaty. Yes, we are asking performers in a Eurovision national final about the Kyoto Protocol. A-Crew laughs (I love you, Spanish Kevin Federline) at the inanity of it all. The lead singer of Lanco gives the smug artist answer. How appropriate for both parties.

As Patricia, high on something, segues into the introduction for Enzo, I realise just how many rainbow motifs there are on the set. They are going for gay camp overload here, which means Las Supremas are probably going to take it. (Hallelujah!) And who is Enzo? He's your floppy haired musician type who people inexplicably find attractive. He thinks Quién dirá is what we'd like as a Eurovision entry. I think he shouldn't wear tight shirts until he can work on his belly. His song...not so bad. It's bland upbeat pop that Clay Aiken would do to prove that he can sing a rock song. Enzo's voice is another matter. It's as rough as sandpaper on glass.

Want proof that Patricia is high? She's bouncing happily in the background to this. I realise that I already love Spain for being a ballad-free zone so far. Will that change after the commercial break?

When we get back, Patricia embarrasses Katherina by announces that it's her birthday and forcing the crowd to sing their well-wishes. If Katherina got embarrassed by that, then what is she doing singing a song called Boca loca? I am confused, because the deep voice and the accompanied footage make you seem like a unassuming young woman from Barcelona. Then again, you are wearing some weird red and white poncho with holes in it, as well as miniscule maroon shorts, so perhaps you're like one of those people who are A students in the day and hookers at night?

Boca loca is a pleasant, tranquil samba song. Katherina and her legs promise some Lena Ph action, but she never seems to break out into the true freak that you sense she wants to be. Oh, and she's flat vocally too. I spend the remainder of the entry thinking lewd thoughts about her backing singer/guitarist who looks a bit Joe Murena who got booted off this week. Anyway...yawn.

Ainhoa, who is actually coming across as more demure than Patricia now, introduces another segment on Eurovision history, to be specific Spanish Eurovision history. Spain started its Eurovision journey with: an Ethel Merman clone in 1961, followed it up with the stiff-shouldered (but winning) Massiel in 1968, another winner (albeit shared with three other countries) with Diana Ross-as-Salome in 1969, bizarrely did not win in 1970 with then justifiably-sexy Julio Iglesias (literally, Julio Iglesias sang in Eurovision, it's true), many piss-poor imitators followed in the 1970's...could it be argued that the end of Franco meant the start of bad hair and campy male performances?

History lesson over, it's time to leer at Patricia. At least that's what the camera operator does. Patricia and her drugs introduce us to Pierre 'n Sue, who is indeed one person. He's male, in fact quite a good looking male at that. So I'm guessing Sue is his caustic female persona? (My first play was about that very same thing. Pierre would fit in perfectly in the role of the meek college student terrorised by his feminine side.) Pierre is sex on legs in his nearly open shirt (just enough to get the juices flowing) and tight jeans. Shame then that he's singing Quizás mejor así. Why? It's a bland r'n'b ballad. (Ooh, how appropriate.) I'd rather see Pierre and his male backing singer do porn than listen to this. Pierre's saving grace--other than his looks--he's on-key. Strangely enough, I reckon that if this does get the ticket to Kiev, then Spain could do very well: Sex appeal + ballad = televotes. Not from me, though.

It's stupid question time again! This time the victims are Katherina, Pierre, and Son de Sol. They have a good subject though: "piracy." The ladies from Son de Sol snicker, so we know they've been downloading illegally. Pierre looks serious and sexy. (Honestly, I have never felt this lustful towards another man in my life. It's true it just takes the right person.) Then it's about the "Beckham phenomenon." Katherina sticks her tongue out and says she doesn't like David Beckham. (Smart thing to do when you're trying to get Madrid to vote for you.) A voice of sun doesn't like him either. I guess they can be this risky when they know Las Supremas are going to win it!

Patricia, her drugs, and her deep voiced announcer give us a snippet of who are Son de Sol. Not much is revealed except that these "girls" come across as a serious version of Las Supremas, the Second Wives Club, perhaps? They will be "entertaining" us with Brujería, which I think translates as witchcraft. Only witchcraft could explain their outfits: pink, baby blue, and yellow crop tops, dark long dresses with pink, baby blue, and yellow fringe, topped up with big, pageant-quality hair. There is a cheer for Son de Sol in the audience. I think the fan base between Son de Sol aficionados and masochism must be mutually exclusive.

They are a serious version of Las Supremas. There's a lot of similarity in the way they sound and the music. (Not plagiarism, just similar style.) Not bad, but not as fun as Las Supremas. Just peppy latin pop, not helped by the embarrassing backing dancers and the loud, off-key male backing singer. Said fool comes marching up towards the end for a totally unneeded bridge.

Don Carlos promises us Rosa and Maria Isabel after the commercial break. What do we get instead? Felipe Conde, who is a better looking version of Enzo. Echo de menos, however, is a ballad and therefore, I now like Enzo better than Felipe, because Enzo went upbeat at least. Felipe has his fan girls who cheer so much that Don Carlos tells them to shut it. I wish he had told Felipe to shut it instead, because this is officially the most boring song in this wacky final, which I did not think was even possible.

Thank god for coked out Patricia, who introduces Gema Castaño who will be singing Santo Job (a song about Job? Why? Who wants to hear about starving turkeys?) Gema seems like your quiet, pleasant radio/tv host and what have you, but can we trust that? I think not.

Gema is wearing a dress that has clearly been through a shredder and back. She's also sporting pageant hair, which is extremely tacky if you're singing about Job! It's probably inappropriate to have big brassy introductions and a catchy dance/samba beat to a song about Job, but it's all here. Gema instantly reminds me of Eva Santamaria who sang "Hombres" for Spain back in 1993. I liked that, I liked this. It's so deliciously sacrilegious.

So with ten songs now performed, my personal top 3 goes like this:

1. Las Supremas
2. Gema
3. A-Crew

Acid-induced question time! On the chopping block are Felipe, Gema, and Yulia. And the subject is "El Quijote." As in Don Quixote? Why on Earth do I want to hear Felipe Conde bore me to death with quotes about an old deranged romantic? He gives a stunned response. (Must preen now!) Gema rocks it by coming across as not caring at all. Next question: "How to improve Ronaldo's punctuality?" Again, why do we care about a soccer player being late? Gema gives a mock dramatic answer, punctuated by a "Dios!" Felipe...still stunned. (Boy, these aren't tough questions, use less hair spray.) Yulia looks like a cheap Italian porn star and she probably gave the Italian porn star's answer to that question.

However Yulia is not a cheap Italian porn star. She's a cheap Ukrainian one, which makes her appearance in a Spanish final...oddly a good fit. (Seriously, the producers at TVE must be doing tina.) Patricia gets tongue-tied and enlists Don Carlos's help, and...yes, Don Carlos you are not bad looking. You're no hunk, but I'd do you...once.

Good god, Yulia, is that an appropriate way to dress for singing Arriba el mundo? I think not. Yulia has frizzed 1984 hair, a knock-off Madonna bustier from the Blonde Ambition tour, black hot pants, and a gold coin belt. Don Carlos asks her how she feels about singing for Spain. Yulia goes for the pageant show answer: "I love the passion of Spain and blah blah blah."

Wow...this is so corny and tacky that it's almost good. Yulia can't sing to save her soul and the way they are compensating seems to be to emphasise her hips and abdomen. I'd rather see the hips and abdomen of the lanky male backing singer she has. The woman even walks off the stage and back into the box like a streetwalker.

Don Carlos, Patricia, and Ainhoa appear together to say that the courtesy of the drugs, you just saw 12 acts in 83 minutes, never mind that each song was under 3 minutes. Don Carlos keeps on trying to tell us to calm down so he can do the recap.

And what does the recap say:

• Maria Lorente: Baby chick with a flat voice and uncanny resemblance to Nia Vardalos.
• Jaster: The Will & Grace & Jack & Karen entry. Hey, Jorge = Jack.
• Las Supremas: They rocked. The Phyllis Dillers even get a cheer from the crowd from the recap! Oh, how I hope this comes true.
• Lanco: Matchbox Vente
• A-Crew: Another huge cheer. (Wow, I'm usually out-of-sync with the general consensus.) Kevin Federline's Spanish twin is still hot. Spanish Abs can't sing. Miss Thang and the other one serve it up.
• Enzo: Still needs to work on his paunch.
• Katherina: Oddly classy, but look at who proceeded her.
• Pierre 'n Sue: Drop the song, bring the backing singer, get naked, and we'll take several photos to commorate the occasion.
• Son de Sol: Who knew that the sound of the sun looked like Expose' (now, not in their heydays)?
• Felipe Conde: Gets a big cheer from his ill-fated fan girls. Still bores me. He ain't no Pierre nor no Sue, nor no Spanish Kevin Federline.
• Gema: Brings it. The repressed tv/radio host was just a facade waiting to crack.
• Yulia: Cheap 1980's porn star.

Guess what? There's an evil twist. We won't find out who made it to the final until the final starts tomorrow. Don Carlos won't tell us that though. Otherwise we won't stick through the commercial break and see Rosa, Maria Isabel, Rosario, and David Civera.

After the break, Carlos gives another recap for voting purposes. Is Spain suffering through an ADD crisis? More cheers for Las Supremas, A-Crew, Katherina, Pierre, Son de Sol, and Felipe. I fear for Gema.

Patricia and Don Carlos take forever to introduce Maria Isabel. She is not performing her JESC winner. Instead she sings a song which I believe translates as "don't touch me with the hands that you know." Honestly, it's weird enough to see a pre-teen sing flamenco. I'll say this, this girl is a spitfire of energy.

Ainhoa gives us another Eurovision highlight reel: We see Dana International, Lydia (I'm surprised they'd mention her colossal failure in 1999), Yulia Savicheva (good song, poor singer, bizarre stage performance), Peret (Spain's major failure in 1974: aka ABBA dominates the world: Year 1). It ends so quickly that Don Carlos is caught off-guard. I think it's just his schtick.

He tosses over to Patricia who interviews Gema (regal), Yulia (slutty), Felipe (unrepsonsive). Patricia tosses over to Ainhoa, who introduces us to Ukraine. Did you know that Kiev was the capital of Ukraine?

Don Carlos introduces Sergio Dalma, who we all know now is uncircumcised. We also now know that he hasn't changed his hair since 1991. He sings his top 5 Eurovision entry, proving once again that the Spanish male ballad and Eurovision have long since departed. Dull.

Ainhoa gives us more Eurovision highlights, this time focusing on the stars to appeared in Eurovision. Included: Domenico Modugno (rightfully so), Sandie Shaw, Gigiola Cinquetti, Julio Iglesias, Mocedades (that's where "Eres Tu" really comes from, my countrymen), Cliff Richard, Olivia Newton John (during ABBA: Year 1 no less), ABBA (duh), Celine Dion (and she won it too), and David Civera (tenuous definition of "star").

Don Carlos shows us some blind results. Someone is in the lead with 21.4 points, prompting the crowd to yell out "SU-PRE-MAS." I totally concur.

After the commercial break, can you believe it, but Don Carlos does another recap. Boy, TVE loves to fill their shows just as much as Fox does. Eventually he brings out Rosa. Crowd goes appropriately wild. She sings, and her new song "Destino" is very much in the Kylie Minogue vein. Rosa has morphed into Cher.

Patricia harasses the performers in the box. Honestly, let them go, it's just torture to keep them there longer. She eventually stops hounding them about "who will win," by seguing into clips from the performers already chosen for 2005. Ooh, this'll be fun, considering I've only seen Omar (grr).

• Cyprus: Constantinos wants to be Sakis Rouvas, but is too skinny and looks like Dustin Hoffman in Midnight Cowboy while thrusting his hips. I'd sleep with him, nonetheless. I'd like to look back on my life and say, I had sex with a Cypriot Eurovision entrant.
• The Netherlands: Glennis looks like Mel B. but sings closer to Toni Braxton. I actually have no issue with this song now, because it's big, powerful, and has the lyric "my gauntlet has been thrown." I like the ballads on occasion. Glennis does sound like the precocious girl getting the big belter at church at some points.

And now we are inflicted with David Civera who is still short and now looks like a used-car salesman. His new tango-influenced dance pop song doesn't help matters much. It also goes on way-too-long.

After David finally goes away. Ainhoa introduces more confirmed entrants for Kiev:

• Slovenia: He-who-beat-Alya-Nusa-Sasa and many other better entrants at EMA 2005. On a television, the song is still unimpressive. Omar has spiky hair, looks like he works at a mechanic's shop, and gazes vacantly while singing. Meanwhile, a woman sings "ahh" nonstop at as high a register a person can muster for 3 minutes. I hope Alya beat this guy up.
• Estonia: Those Suntribe girls have got the strongest accents in the wrong song to have them. They're also off-key and meekily do their choreography. Nonetheless, they're miles better than "Stop."

Don Carlos teases us again with more blind results. We're onto his trick now as is Patricia (and if she's onto it, then you're screwed). He senses it too, and does another recap. Interesting thing I noted during the recap is that Patricia joined along (in the background) with Las Supremas. She's an easy-to-please woman, our Patty.

Finally, because he knows that a riot is about to break out. Don Carlos brings out Rosario, who slips on her way to the microphone. Rosario looks like a drag queen, which blends in perfectly with this manic final.

And how appropriate is that ending?

The Eurovision Body Count (so far)

More than 20 entries are now "confirmed" for Kiev 2005. (Note the quotation marks around confirmed since Ukraine and Lithuania might hold a revote.) So here's how the selections so far pan out in my head.

I met my enemy, and it was my semi

• Austria: Global Kryner - Y Asi: Weird mix of polka and Latin music. Think Weird Al Yankovic goes to Salzburg.
• Andorra: Marian Van de Wal - La Mirada Interior: I liked Marta's song last year, this is not a good follow up.
• Bulgaria: Kaffe - Lorrain: Bulgaria could very well hold a revote too. Apparently the singer has been physically threatened; the performers of the 2nd place song refused to sing and still came in 2nd...All this over a quiet, unassuming song about "Lorrain in the rain." Daft lyrics, would love it a lot more if it was in Bulgarian or an instrumental.
• Denmark: Jakob Sveistrup - Tænder på dig: This sounds like the ending theme to the Danish release of a Disney movie. I believe the title translates along the lines of "tender for you" or thereabouts. It's all cute and gushy with light drums and piano. I can just stomach it in Danish, if they send it in English, then I'm having a bucket ready. Where are the follow-ups to "Hallo Hallo," Denmark.
• Estonia: Suntrbe - Let's Get Loud: First and foremost, this is not like the Jennifer Lopez song of the same name. It's actually not too bad. (It's no "Tii," which was deliciously wacky, but I can understand the need to play safe.) A group of young girls mimic scratching and sing about "getting loud." You can't expect profound lyrics, but it's catchy and likeable.
• Finland: Geir Ronning - Why: Why another ballad, I ask?
• (FYR) Macedonia: Martin Vucic - Ti Si Son: (FYR) Macedonia is another country with dodgy voting practices, because the 2nd placed song was the vote leader, but got 2nd due to the strange way voting was set up. Anyway, it's upbeat, in Macedonian, and Martin is a good piece of eye candy. (Nothing wrong with thinking with one's crotch on occasion.)
• Israel: Shiri Maymon - Hasheket shenish'ar: Another ballad, albeit in Hebrew with possibly excellent lyrics. (I can forgive a lot for good lyrics.)
• Latvia: Walter & Kazha - The War Is Not Over: You know those young 16-25 year old men who always seem to hang out on the steps of a high school/college playing guitar? You know then ones who like think that they're being soulful and artistic, when really they're just trying to sleep with the people who are fawning over them. That's what these two are. I'm sorry, but this song annoys the living daylights out of me. Dire.
• Lithuania: Laura & The Lovers - Little By Little: Never mind how it got through, but this is not bad (although Saules Kilosas should've won) in the upbeat Swedish schlager way. (Appropriate since I think a Swedish group is behind it.) Yards better than"What Happened To Your Love?"
• Moldova: Zdob Si Zdub - Bunica Bate Toba: I like this. It's a decent quirky rock song about "Granny playing the drums." There might be a bizarre stage show, but I don't care. Go Moldova.
• The Netherlands: Glennis Grace - My Impossible Dream: Ballad, although Glennis might speed it up for the final. Thank god, because this is quite unremarkable. (Ok, I'm still smarting over Justine Palmelay.)
• Poland: Ivan & Delfin - Czarna Dziewczyna - Fast-paced folk song about a "dark-haired girl" as performed by two men. It's upbeat, but there's not much I can like here unless they perform the hell out of it live.
• Slovenia: Omar Naber - Stop: Yes, please stop, and give your spot over to Alya.

Oh you lucky Finalists

• Albania: Ledina Celo - Nesër shkoj: This rocks although it seems like it might be performed in English in Kiev. (And if you remember the lyrical horror of "The image of you...") The inspiration is apparently an Albanian wedding. I had no idea that Albanian weddings featured women singing turbofolk while dressed in some of the most bosom-revealing outfits on the planet. Worth mentioning is the power note that Ledina holds towards the end, which could give Barbra Streisand a run for her money.
• Cyprus: Konstantinos - Ela Ela: Konstantinos pretty. His song so-so. It's very upbeat and dramatic Greek in style without actually being in Greek. Sakis Rouvas mk. II. "Ela is the word for action," indeed. Every time I hear "come baby, come baby" I keep on thinking about the song "Rumpshaker."
• Russia: Natalya Podolskaya - Nobody Hurt No-One: We've been here before. My opinion hasn't changed.
• Turkey: Gülseren - Rim Rimi Ley: It's cute, upbeat, and in Turkish. I would be surprised if it does well, but it does put you in a good mood. (Note, I can take "cute" but not absurdly saccharine.)
• Ukraine: Greenjolly - Razom Nas Bahato: Who knew you could take the old protest chant "the people, united, will never be defeated" and turn it into a rap song? By all accounts, Ani Lorak would've walked the Ukrainian final had not NTU invited 4 wild-cards (who are all coincidentally involved with the Orange Revolution). Greenjolly (daft name, isn't it) themselves, are all for Ani Lorak going as well. Plus, the EBU is investigating the lyrics to see how much of the song is original and not based on old 1960's protest songs. Anyway, I totally agree with the lyrics (I'm a socialist, this sort of "together we are strong" sentiment gets to me), but the execution is, uh, not as good as the lyrics. In fact, they do come across as drunk young men shouting their way from bar-to-bar.
  

No, I'm not stoned. Just thought I'd add a photo of Hikaruland's fearless leader...me. (And yes, the peace sign "choki" is how I pose for a photo...even one I'm taking by myself.)  

I tried to capture a hallation with my camera but clearly just got the Met Life Tower. 

Go See This If You're In CT

A comrade of mine, Garrett Zuercher is in the current touring production of Big River as Huckleberry Finn. It opens in New Haven tonight (I'm attending the opening night), and runs all the way to March 6th.

What makes this production stand out from the rest is that it is performed by both a speaking and deaf cast.

Also, if I can praise Garrett a little more (I think he'll forgive me), he is very talented playwright who took his play Quid Pro Quo to the Kennedy Center.

Go to the Shubert Theatre for tickets.