The miserable Dutchman

We dreamed a dream in time gone by. You know, back in the days when hope was high and life worth living. That one day The Netherlands would enter this competition. And they would rise up. And live out. To the true meaning of its Eurovisional creed. And be extraordinarily brilliant.

Yeah, that’s gonna have to wait ’till next year. In Malmö we will be stuck with Anouk who herself seems to be stuck in Broadway. We mean, what the hell happened here? She’s the lady that gave us Nobody’s wife, everybody’s break up feminism and the world’s best Dutch impression of Alanis Morisette for God’s sake. We used to love her! Do we want her now? No, thank you.

Now Anouk straightened her hair og botoxed her entire collection of face muscles. Don’t you always hate it when rockers do that? No wonder she has to take it slow. She sounds like we did when we were ten years old pretending to be musical stars and making up words and melody along the way. A few questions that certainly come to our minds: Why does every woman from these Netherlands try to sound like Joan Baez? Did anybody ever tell them we loved her? And what would be the proper punishment for that?

The video Anouk presents herself with is supposed to show you how good she is at live singing. Instead the miserable excuse of a camera shows you every bit of a reason for why Lars von Trier should stay far, far away from this competition. It does not exactly improve the impression. And the lyrics? The LYRICS are about birds falling down from the roof tops like rain drops. Why on earth would they do such a thing?

We’re disappointed. Oh, so disappointed. We had a dream Anouk would be. So different from this crap they’re usually making. But it is so different now from what it seemed.

Again they killed the dream we dreamed.

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