Slipping further into stereotype

I have no idea what has come over me recently. Last night, I drank at Splash. Splash! (For those outside of New York, Splash is a big cavernous two level gay bar/lounge. The top has videos and dancing, the lower level has a lounge for the lounge types. The clientele is straight out of Queer As Folk.)

What's even more twisted is that this is the third week in a row that I've done it. (Considering that I only drink once week, where I go drinking is rather important.) The thing is, I don't think I want to stop and return to my old Hell's Kitchen drinking holes.

Sometimes, I think that some other soul takes over my body.

Since I'm in a big picture post mode this morning

The view from my apartment during a recent snowstorm.

Explanation #1 as to why I started disliking "Stop" a lot less

Omar Naber prepares for his final baptism into the pool of Robbie Williams clonedom.

More humble Eurovision pie

I already had put my grammatical issues aside to cheer for "Nobody Hurt(s) No One," but now that I have heard the studio version I'm now even more of a fan, because the lyrics are extraoridinarily emotionally gripping. Granted, Natalya's accent doesn't do my ears any favour, but from what U can gleem from them the song is either about bullying or spousal abuse.

Eating crow about "Nobody Hurt No One" (god, will they just add an "s!") is not as major as having to admit that the new studio version of "Stop" is quite good. It's no longer Omar whining with a soprano. It's now Omar briefly whining followed by massive kick-ass guitars that threaten to drown out the soprano. That sounds like it would be dire, but oh, it isn't. It's...damn near bliss actually. (You know this is so killing me to write these nice things about "Stop", but I will stick to my guns and still say that Alya and "Exxtra" should've won EMA. I'm making lemonade out of lemons here.)

Sealing Omar's evil takeover of my aural senses: His new video for "Stop", which seems to be aiming to make him the Balkan Robbie Williams. (Be still my heart.)

I'll revise my position to I don't necessarily want to see "Stop*" go all the way, but I definitely don't want it to fail miserably.

*Now if Slovenia sent the "Stop" which KGB performed at the Russian final, then it'd be a different matter. That "Stop" was ace.

Lemme Eat Some Humble Pie: Eurovision Errata

Belarussian entrant Angelica Agurash (aka Anna Oxa mk. II) has replaced the camp ballad "Boys & Girls" with the camp dance tune "Love Me Tonight. " This new song is only a minor improvement on the lyrics side, though it suffers from the Russian curse (although the writer of "Love Me Tonight" is Greek, and responsible for the inanity that was "Shake It" last year) of atrocious grammar that could be rectified by adding just a few words. In this particular case the line "It's no sin, it's no crime, that I want you mine." (The song could hold up under the strain of just adding "to be.") All that being said, if Angelica manages an Oxa-style stage show, this could get them out of the wasteland that is this year's semi-final.

Speaking of which, Lebanon has now withdrawn and Tele-Liban will now be hit with the standard penalty as well as probably an extra fine. The reason why seems to be that the Lebanese government doesn't want to air the Israeli entry. (There is a tasteless joke about Israeli entries that could be made here, but I won't go there.) Personally, both entries were pretty much the same in my book, so this raises Israel's chance I reckon. From a political perspective, I frankly can't blame them for withdrawing what with all the Ukraine-style upheaval going on in Lebanon currently. Perhaps they'll get over it by next year and the new government will work to build olive branches across the Levant? Or not.

Finally, I have to eat my words about Monaco's entry "Tout de moi" being bland. It most certainly is not. Heard in its full version with a soaring musical score performed by the Monaco Philharmonic, it's rather stirring. I can only wonder how TMC will stage it in Kiev since orchestras seem to be pariahs these days.

Up in Heaven, Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy are crying for our deluded minds

Why oh why did they turn a classy, well-regarded 1960's dramedy into a daft slapstick comedy vehicle for Ashton Kutcher and Bernie Mac? What could possibly be next? Snoop Dogg in the remake of In the Heat of the Night? People, if you are going to remake a film, at least stick to the original tone. I'm all for a remake of Casino Royale or even better, Skidoo (an all-gay version with Nathan Lane in the Jackie Gleason role and Mario Cantone in the Carol Channing role). Are you listening Warner Brothers?

I say ream those 'roid heads

Although the Gannon scandal and other evil behind-the-scenes machinations of the current administration should be receiving this amount of press, I am actually glad that the government is investigating to abuse of steroids in professional baseball. The fact of the matter is that these athletes/guinea pigs are woefully overpaid to produce "shocking" results on the field. Performances which could not be done without the benefit of steroids.

Basically, the thinking of these players seems to go along the lines of: "If I inject the steroid into my rear, then I'll get bigger, which will allow me to hit the ball further, which will give me more money."

On some level, fair play to them for wanting to take the money and run, because no sane person would look up to professional athletes as role models. Nonetheless, there are times you have to save people from themselves. This is why medical experiments are regulated. This is why there is an FDA (a highly de-fanged FDA these days, but still an FDA).

I would be extremely pleased to see this system of setting up these men to become genetic freaks broken down. The fact of the matter is that it might have a subsequent effect with the vain men that go to the gym. This past Tuesday, my trainer pointed out the higher amount of huge men at the gym, the reason for the upswing in numbers being that it is time for the spring cycles.

You've seen these men, the ones who are so huge that they are out of proportion. Any time that you see someone so huge that they waddle. Probably juicing. Somebody who can't even seem to bring their arms to rest by their sides? On steroids. Somehow we've created this culture that says that it's better to look extraordinary for 5 years, and pay for it in medical problems for the rest of a lifetime. These hearings might just be a way to reverse that trend.

You tell 'em, Tim

Tim Cuprisin, who is the main media writer for the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel, hits the nail on the head in respect to those who complain about the wall-to-wall coverage of the shootings in Brookfield.

I may get myself thrown in a jail cell for saying this, but sometimes I think Tim is better than the media writers for the New York papers (even--dare I say it?--The New York Observer).

My 1/16th Irish self wishes you all a happy St. Patrick's Day. (Unfortunately this year's celebration is severely marred by the fact that I cannot find a single New York McDonald's which carries the Shamrock shake. Dammit, I needs me seasonal shake fix.)

Those sun-interpreting hags are still better than "Las Vegas": Eurovision 2005 Body Count Update for the Final

All healed now, but heeding my horoscope which suggested that I clean out unfinished business, here's the Eurovision Body Count for the Final.
Like last time, I listened and/or watched 90 seconds of each entry.

It gets lonely at the top (but at least you can be cocky): The Final

Albania: Ledina Celo - Nesër Shkoj
Keep the stage act, change the dress! Ledina comes out strutting in what looks like the only slightly more stylish version of that dress that Bjork wore to the Oscars several years ago. She's accompanied by a group of cocktail waitresses playing fake violins and an acrobatic man playing a fake drum. There is an unintentionally hilarious moment where Ledina and the waitresses march in conga line while Mr. Acrobat leaps all over the place. I quite like this fast pop-folk entry and after seeing it, I like it even more because it's nice to know that Ledina truly does possess a powerful voice. All that being said, after hearing that this song will most likely be translated into English I am now prepared for a lyrical assault on the ears on the level of "Pump-pump." (Remember the tragedy that were the lyrics of "The Image of You?" Somebody needs to rush over some English-Albanian dictionaries to Tirana pronto!) I'm also curious how they are going to work in the booming male voices singing "di-di-di-DAAAA" onstage in Kiev.

Bosnia-Herzegovina: Feminnem - Zovi
Well, it's quite dated. In fact it sounds more appropriate for the 1985 contest rather than the 2005. However, Bosnia sent another bouncy 1980's number in 2002, and Maja performed the living daylights out of it, so I can't write it off entirely until I see how the trio that is Feminnem (Is that supposed to be a play on both "feminine" and "Eminem?") perform.

Cyprus: Konsantinos - Ela Ela
It's the Cypriot version of "Rumpshaker." Seriously. Konstantinos sings "Come baby, come baby," follows that up with thrusting hips as he sings "bang bang," while an assortment of black clad female dancers cavort around him. (Teddy Riley should sue.) If I can ignore the daft, unoriginal lyrics and the hilarious choreography, this is not bad. It's not good, because this looks like a clear-cut imitation of what Sakis Rouvas did in Istanbul. (Sakis is also mildly better in the looks department, but Konstantinos is not at all bad either.) Not a winner, but Cyprus is probably in the final next year.

Germany: Gracia - Run & Hide
The writer for this, David Brandes, is also behind "Cool Vibes." I think he did a better job for Switzerland. Much has been said about the similarities between "Run & Hide" and the old grunge hit "What's Goin' On" by 4 Non Blondes. I hear the similarities, and frankly, I'm indifferent because it doesn't seem like blatant plagiarism. Gracia is apparently another former talent show contestant, and is not bad of a singer. (Speaking of which, Kelly Clarkson could take this song and bat it into the sky.) The performance, however, comes across as the kind you'd see by a high school garage band at a talent show: really good, but still amateur. On the positive side of things, this is extremely better than the dirge that was "Waiting for tonight."

Greece: Helena Paparizou - My Number One
It's the Greek Shakira! (Thank god, I don't think I could handle a Greek version of "Freak Like Me" to complement the Cypriot "Rumpshaker.") There's another potential problem here along the lines of the Albanian entry. Here it's the sampled "hey!" that pops up every sowhile. The video that I saw had no one vocalising it. That aside, Helena does an excellent job with this. It's also a pretty good song to boot. The lyrics veer often into the cliche of throwing various adjectives together to describe someone, but they have their witty moments, so I let it slide. I actually could see this winning. (Hopefully that's not a kiss of death.) It doesn't grab me, but it certainly draws me in.

Malta: Chiara - Angel
I didn't care for Chiara's song back in 1998, and that was yards better than "Angel." This is like a castoff from a bad Andrew Lloyd-Webber show. Chiara has also remade herself from looking like a mid-level executive to looking like she should be performing at La Scala. It's a shame, because I imagine that an operatic version would actually make this song more tolerable instead of mind-numbingly dull.

Russia: Natalya Podolskaya - Nobody Hurt No-One
My hatred of this song's abuse of English grammar continues unabated. Natalya, however, rocks it. Absolutely class rock ballad. If it wins, I would easily live with it. (Just one question lingers constantly in my head: Why can't she just say "hurts" instead of "hurt?" It's just a difference of one damn letter and it makes you sound like you know what you are singing about to anyone who is a native English speaker.)

Serbia & Montenegro: No Name - Zauvijek Moja
Dull boyband ballad. I could care less if it's replaced by "Jutro" which is a dull female soloist ballad.

Spain: Son del Sol - Brujeria
We've been down their road to fame. I'm no fan of these witches. That being said, since I get to watch Eurovision courtesy of TVE International, this in a vague sense makes the Spanish entry my "national" entry. Symbolically, I'd like them to win. Personally, there are better entries.

Sweden: Martin Stenmarck - Las Vegas
I have wished that this song would just go away ever since I first heard it and again when it won Saturday night. By the way, according to Las Vegas CBS affiliate KLAS, this is what is happening in Las Vegas tonight: Illicit lovers going to jail for stealing $8 million in silver; A police standoff causes a school to be locked down; two former NYPD officers are arrested for committing Mafia hits; and thieves have made off with sensitive personal information of thousands of people on file with the North Las Vegas DMV. Would you sing about that Las Vegas, Martin? Would you? I know you could.

Turkey: Gülseren - Rimi Rimi Ley
I don't claim to understand what goes on in meetings at TRT, but one has to seriously wonder. I mean, they decide that a song with a title that apparently means nothing, and a performer who looks like she's performing in an office talent show are winners. It's certainly peppy and cute, but it's kind of...well, dumpy. The remixed version that I heard at least has some chance of allowing Turkey not to bomb outright.

Ukraine: Greenjolly - Razom Nas Bahato
I'm all for political rants getting into the Eurovision. (Honestly. I liked all those pro-Socialist anthems and sly anti-Salazar critiques that Portugal sent back in the 1960's and 1970's. If you thought "Tourada" was political, listen to "Apenas ao meu povo" by Simone de Oliviera which was the artistic (but not overall) winner in 1973. Simone sings it brilliantly and the lyrics pull no punches in criticising a certain Iberian right-wing dictator.) This, however, is a bit of a mess. I can understand the symbolism of having one of the themes of the Orange Revolution represent Ukraine when the contest is being hosted by them, but it's just really manic and out of place at Eurovision. I could totally see it whipping up a crowd in snowy downtown Kiev, but I think it'll fall to pieces in the voting. By the way, what sort of daft rap name is "Greenjolly?" It makes me think of the Jolly Green Giant (a brand of frozen vegetables).

United Kingdom: Javine - Touch My Fire
Wow. This truly blew me away. Javine is clearly operating off Beyonce as a model, but still, this is impressive. Probably one of the few British entries that actually sound like what is in the UK charts right now. I liked this song when I heard it, but after seeing Javine perform it, I have to say she takes to entirely new level incorporating lots of brief forays into belly-dancing and some Bollywood-esque moves. My personal favourite out of all the entries.

So here's how the final shuffles out:

Gold:

1. United Kingdom
2. Russia (I pray Natalya adds an "s" to "hurt" in Kiev.)
3. Albania

Silver:

4. Greece
5. Bosnia-Herzegovina
6. Cyprus

Tin: (because bronze is valuable and these songs...not so pricy)
7. Spain
8. Germany
9. Ukraine
10. Turkey (the remix saved you)

Compost:
11. Malta
11. Serbia & Montenegro
13. Sweden
(Yes, my hatred of "Las Vegas" is so deep that I rank boring BALLADS ahead of it.)

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.