Oh, it feels so amazingly good to love your own country after being slapped in the face the year before. This is like suddenly Petter Northug, Aksel Lund Svindal and Marit Bjørgen became a part of Eurovision and we got to cry a little when they hit the finish line. Finally we can wave our flags high and let it mean something else than endless self promotion of GEE. It’s better than celebrating our national day and eating smoked sheep heads all together. In fact, right now Stella is the very best of our country. And this country needs something good in it’s life now that it’s bombing for peace and everything.
Looking back our best Eurovision moments have been the ones that cheer us up. The ones that are filled with rythm and joy and happy people. And we’re so glad it’s Norway that presents that to Europe this year. Just imagine your own state of mind after suffering through whiny Latvians, self righteous boyband seniors from UK and The Netherlands, a diverse selection of idealists trying to save the world with or without help, a lamp shade version of Celine Dion, a French disaster trying to be opera singer and a Swede on steroids. Imagine how tired you will be. And how convinced you will be that Eurovision is not as good as it used to. And then imagine how all of those thoughts will just be blown away as Stella approaches you like a ray of sunlight in December. Imagine pure bliss.
Stella, she is our star. She is so smashing our men are not allowed to watch tv while she is on. And they shouldn’t really let us either, cause we’ll end up all Stellasexuals here. Or even be accused of being the new Hitlers for our extreme nationalism. Her song is fabulous. Her moves are fabulous. Her choir chick is fabulous. Her hair is fabulous. The shoes are fabulous. Her ear rings are fabulous. In fact, what isn’t fabulous couldn’t possibly be part of this fabulous entry. Maybe except for the fact that we hurt our arms from all those Haba Haba moves, but hey, that’s totally worth it.
We love you, Stella. Go make us proud.