In the same week that sees Gary Glitter incarcerated in a Thai prison for having sex with little girls, the Great British public chooses Daz Sampson to represent them in the upcoming Eurovision Song Contest.
If you think these two events are unrelated, you obviously weren't watching the BBC's "Making Your Mind Up Show" earlier today when aging (c)rapper, DJ Daz romped through a stage full of nubile backing singers dressed in naughty, naughty school girl uniforms to perform the song, "Teenage Life", a nauseatingly puerile rap in which Sampson, who's got to be 35 if he's a day, explains how the older generation don't understand him. Of course the older generation don't understand you, you silly man. They've got more important things to worry about, like their local post office closing down so they'll have to go into town to cash their pensions and ways to prevent hyperthermia now they can't afford to switch on the heater.
One can only hope that after he has scored nil points for this putrescent clunker of a song, his management sends him off on a highly publicized tour of Bangkok preschool discos.
Why do we allow ourselves to get all warm, cuddly and misty-eyed when it comes to the loathsome spectacle of Eurovision. Oh yes, I know what you're going to say, "But I watch it in an ironic way."
Irony is no excuse for Eurovision. Eurovision is an ugly freak show. Even if the songs weren't crap it, songwriting is not a competitive sport. Eurovision is an evil blight that trivializes music in the worst possible way. Getting involved in Eurovision, regardless of your philosophical perspective, is just an update on paying to see the inmates of Bedlam. The only difference is Tom O'Bedlam didn't have access to a premium rate phone line.
If you think these two events are unrelated, you obviously weren't watching the BBC's "Making Your Mind Up Show" earlier today when aging (c)rapper, DJ Daz romped through a stage full of nubile backing singers dressed in naughty, naughty school girl uniforms to perform the song, "Teenage Life", a nauseatingly puerile rap in which Sampson, who's got to be 35 if he's a day, explains how the older generation don't understand him. Of course the older generation don't understand you, you silly man. They've got more important things to worry about, like their local post office closing down so they'll have to go into town to cash their pensions and ways to prevent hyperthermia now they can't afford to switch on the heater.
One can only hope that after he has scored nil points for this putrescent clunker of a song, his management sends him off on a highly publicized tour of Bangkok preschool discos.
Why do we allow ourselves to get all warm, cuddly and misty-eyed when it comes to the loathsome spectacle of Eurovision. Oh yes, I know what you're going to say, "But I watch it in an ironic way."
Irony is no excuse for Eurovision. Eurovision is an ugly freak show. Even if the songs weren't crap it, songwriting is not a competitive sport. Eurovision is an evil blight that trivializes music in the worst possible way. Getting involved in Eurovision, regardless of your philosophical perspective, is just an update on paying to see the inmates of Bedlam. The only difference is Tom O'Bedlam didn't have access to a premium rate phone line.