Hooray and then some, we just refueled on mexican food and remembered we had a fabulous time yesterday!
We started our day in the press center, where we attended Latvia‘s and Poland‘s press conference. Michal Szpak looked great in his David Bowie sweater. We even got to ask him a question, which was such a sad excuse for trying to get ourselves on tv. But he told us his his soul was red and that he also liked Guri’s blue top, which was mostly white. And he said he wanted to touch us in the semi final, which is more than we ever dared to hope for.
Finally. It’s the one time of year when we get to focus on the most important thing in our life: Who is the best-looking bloke in Eurovision?
The jury had a hard time this year. There were a lot of great applications, and many argued their case well, which once again reminded us what a great year 2016 is for fabulousness. In the end we just had to share a bottle of pinot and get down to business. The jury has taken the following criteria into consideration: looks, charm, style, shaggability, social skills, likelihood of showing up in Euroclub and the ability to wear clothes while being surrounded by highly dangerous animals. Other than that, we have followed the strict EBU guidelines, of course, allowing gay flags, but not at all relating to any kind of politics. Everybody knows those politicians are boring anyway.
The question has crossed our minds a few times the last couple of years. After all we are engaged in politics and human rights in our regular life and we all know Eurovision is about as political as it gets. No kidding. Stuff a whole continent of countries with their own version of free speech and democratic values together in the most watched live tv show around, and expect nothing less. People will either love or hate you for who you represent.
Sadly you won’t find your favorite Eurovision bloggers reporting live from the press center and from premier VIP seating inside the arena this year. Due to a series of unforeseen circumstances, which we won’t bore you with the details. But we promise to be back on location next year when it’s Italy’s turn to host Eurovision again!
Close your eyes. Imagine a blond angel appearing in front of you with promises of peace, love, understanding and free speech. Now where would she come from? Nowhere but Russia!
In Russia they pray for peace and healing, of course. Same procedure as every other year. This country boasts such proud traditions as creators of stability and democracy in Europe and in the world, after all. It’s the land of the thousand oligarks. Solidly founded on the people’s much appreciated struggle. The land of the well functioning free press. Where everyone is allowed their own opinion without consequences, where children are taught about the importance of regime criticism before they can speak and where human rights are at the very chore of anything the government decides.
So. First semi final is no more than a week away and rehearsals are well on their way. Here are some of the most important facts we have picked up on this far:
Georgia is way funnier than first anticipated.How unbelievably cool is it to bring a parachute onstage? If you are to dance around high as a kite onstage, why not bring your kite, we say. And there is a slight possibility Israel’s lady might blow us all up, so security equipment is welcomed.
Speaking of Israel, we have an announcement to make: Three pair of pants have been found lurking around the airport looking for their owners. Mei and choir chicks can report to the information desk in order to get fully dressed for next week.
It’s already been 5 years since Russia’s first win in ESC and by the look of it, the Russians are starting to get serious about winning again. Luckily there was a certain Swede to save us from the horrific Babushkas last year, and perhaps it was to the Russians’ own surprise they came so close to winning. Regardless, they did not take any chances with hosting a national final this year and went for the internally selected Dina Garipova and fed her a Swedish made monster ballad.
This happens ever so often (or in our opinion way too often) in Eurovision: A bunch of weirdos disguised as folk musicians show up and sprinkle their fairy dust from last century. They’re often old enough to have founded a cheese or something and dressed in whatever they managed to steal from the British museum who in turn stole it from their mother who never used it in the first place.