Sorry, Iceland

We want to love Iceland. But they are not making it easy for us:

Iceland is a country that we hear about for four reasons: a)when someone did something stupid that affects other people’s money or b)when some volcano did something stupid that affects other people’s air space c)when their amazing football team did something amazing or d)when they enter Eurovision. But it really is a charming, beautiful country, and we have met so many great people from there, including the fabulous bloggers of Allt un Júróvisjon, who are very much worth all that Google translating. So all we want to do is love them all and forgive them all their previous mistakes in a heartbeat. After all, they are the country of Björk and hot springs, Brennivín and Snorre Sturluson.

But this year, we’ve hit a wall. Clearly, Ari Ólafsson is a talented singer who does well at what he knows best: musicals. But we’ve never been the biggest fans of musicals. We just don’t see the point of singing messages that are so much better delivered in the oral form. We might see the point of singing and dancing and making a bit of a show in a theatre performance that is a little dull. But this is Eurovision. Dull is not a key word and standing still looking like you’ve just been canonized by Andrew Lloyd Webber is not something we encourage.

So we don’t love the Icelandic entry this year. We fear it may fail to qualify for the final. And we seriously fear that will mean less Icelanders in Lisbon towards the end of the week. That’s not great. Because we still love Iceland. We swear. End Of Message.

Presenting the new model for Colgate, Iceland edition

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