No logo

So, here’s what we picture happened when Germany made a UK office draw them a logo for Eurovision, and UK handed over this:

The participants:
Mr. Cameron – a gentleman striving to keep it up as a prime minister with absolutely no love for Eurovision, but with very strong competitive skills.
Mr. Clegg – yet another gentleman striving to keep his buddy David up to date on important European matters such as…say, Eurovision.
Chancellor Merkel – a woman striving to avoid the subject of Eurovision by passing on as much of the dirty work as possible to her not so close friends in UK.

We approach Mr. Cameron and Mr. Clegg as they are doing their daily 9 to 5 work at the office:

Mr Cameron: Did you see this quite formal letter from the Germans asking us to design a logo? How very extraordinary!

Mr Clegg: Why certainly, David. What are we to make of this? Could it be some sort of joke? I mean it’s not like we are close allies or anything.

Mr Cameron: Yes, that is a quite appropriate question, Nick. But I do not know the Germans as great humorists. Allthough Chancellor Angela did at one point laugh at my excuisite joke about Icelandic banks.

Mr Clegg: Oh no, not that joke again, please. But if this is not a joke, then perhaps it could be a gesture of pity? You know, since we really suck at Eurovision, mind the language, and they didn’t this year?

Mr. Cameron: My, Nick! Is that true?

Mr. Clegg: Yes, David. You know very well that dark little German satellitegirl with that way too red lipstick won this year. We watched it in Downing Street, remember? We were so happy to finally be using all that hi tech surveillance equipment for something important. I know you don’t love Eurovision as much as me, but you gotta know this great moment in time!

Mr. Cameron: All right, all right, I do remember. You mean that pale girl? Judging by the accent I thought she was some sort of a Chav from one of those poor British suburbs I never visited. If not, then where were the British? Didn’t they share the moment?

Mr. Clegg: That is a matter best left unmentioned, I’m afraid.

Mr. Cameron: Do the Germans really believe they can defeat us? That is a national scandal! We may only have blood, sweaty teenagers, soiled songwriters and tears, but we shall not flag or fail, we shall go on to the end, we shall fight in Düsseldorf, we shall fight on the stages and on television, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the semi finals…

Mr. Clegg: We don’t actually have to be in…

Mr. Cameron: …we shall defend our music whatever the cost may be, we shall fight in the final. We may have lost A1 to Norway, and weird Chavs to Germany, but we shall never surrender.

Mr Clegg: Very well then, David. We do not recognize the meaning of the word defeat. I suggest we give the Germans the worst piece of crap we are able to make. How about we make it ourselves, even? I have a drawing tool on my iPad right here. That oughta send them a message.

Mr. Cameron: I am ready. We need a method and an object. Economics are the method; the object is to change the heart and soul.

Mr. Clegg: Yes, minister, heart! That is an excellent idea! I actually know how to draw a heart! Pass me the gin, I am creative now. This will be the best joke ever. Can you feel your heart beat? People will probably think this is inspired by chav chicks!

Mr. Cameron: Very well. Are we done then?

Mr. Clegg: Shush, I’m busy creating iPad art.

Several days later – weeks, in fact:

Chancellor Merkel: Thank you very much for your heart beat, David. How very ironic of you. I absolutely hate it.

Mr. Cameron: We will never ever ever be defeaten. You stick to your cleveage, Angela.

Chancellor Merkel: Mister Cameron! If you were my husband, I would poison your tea!

Mr. Cameron: Lady Merkel, if you were my wife, I would drink that tea.

Chancellor Merkel to herself after Mr. Cameron had a heart attack and can’t feel his heart beat: Oh well, what did I expect from the Brits? I guess Eurovision is all about irony anyways. I’ll fix up this heart and fax it to Düsseldorf.

And yeah, you know the rest, heart beat it is. In case you wondered what we are trying to tell you by this rather long, dull dialogue (one often does when politicians are involved), the message is: This is one boring slogan made by the English, who should be able to do better. And yeah, please leave politics out of Eurovision.

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