Eurovision 2012: Summary of the Grand Final

It's Saturday night in Baku, Azerbaijan, host of Eurovision 2012! Thanks to its far-flung location on Eurovision's generously sprawling European map, which also includes Israel ("My favorite European country," friend Ana says drily), we realize they must be starting at midnight local time. Hopefully the folks over there have had their siestas, but even if they haven't, the technicolored, cranked up to 11 pageant should keep people awake, at least until Estonia takes the stage.

If you've seen Semi-Finals 1 and 2, you have already seen most of the performances. A total of 36 acts, each representing one country, performed on those two nights, with 16 getting the axe and 20 advancing. So, everyone is a winner tonight! Except for the six countries that automatically advance to the final. One of those countries is Azerbaijan, rewarded, per Eurovision tradition, for having won the competition the previous year. The other five countries are called "The Big Five" because they have the biggest wallets. They have bought their way to the finals, and so we hate them with all the hate a hateful hating heart can hate.

The show opens with a huge fireworks display. It is estimated that for every firework that lights up the sky 25 Azeris starved to death. I'll be making up a lot of statistics like that in this report.

The singers of last year's winning entry take the stage and perform a truncated version of their "Running Scared." Song brings back warm fuzzy memories of 2011. It really is a good tune.

Our hosts introduce a time-lapse film of the construction of the Baku Crystal Hall, and we try to catch, at its beginning, a glimpse of the forcibly-evicted and unfairly compensated former residents being whisked off the property.

In our Zagreb kitchen our goal tonight is to pick the top 10 highest-placing countries, and also the overall winner.

The corpse of Engelbert Humperdinck takes the stage for the UK, representing the first "Big Five" Country. Your grandmother loves it, but there's no way it will make the top 10.

Hungary's pop rock entry is next, but after all we've seen in the semis there's little here to get our hearts racing.

Albania is next, and so, having been alerted by the previous performance in Semi-Final 1, we screw in our earplugs. Once again the singer howls, shrieks, bellows, and lets out one ear-piercing scream that shatters all our bottles of Karlovačko beer.

Between performances we view propagandistic bumper segments celebrating Azerbaijan and some of its cities, each segment given a title like, "Azerbaijan: Land of Horsemen," or the oddly-phrased "Baku: City of Drive." Copiously missing is "Azerbaijan: Land of Imprisoned Journalists." Actually, cute co-host Nargiz Birk-Petersen was once a journalist in Azerbaijan (thanks, Wikipedia), which perhaps explains why she now lives with her husband in Copenhagen.

Lithuania offers their fun performance, wherein a dull ballad transforms into a disco dance tune, complete with a one-handed cartwheel from the singer.

I could not remember Bosnia & Herzegovina's Semi-Final performance. Rather than look it up on YouTube, I decided it would be more fun to be surprised tonight. Well, I've forgotten it again.

The adorable Russian grandmothers are next, in what is the most shameless pandering of tonight's competition. I guiltily experience a moment of horror as one of the babushkas, or babushki to be more correct, stumbles toward the camera. "Run away! Run away!" Do I have a phobia of old people? Hey, there was this old guy wandering through the underground mall today near the Zagreb train station, and he was just howling to no one in particular. What was that all about? Damn, I'm turning into an old person myself. I'm depressed!

Iceland's much-too-serious entry isn't going to cheer me up, either. Please, put away your violin.

Cyprus rolls out ha-cha-cha-cha girl number one, and several toes are tapping in that Zagreb kitchen. No, it's not very good, but after ponderous Iceland I'll definitely take this. Every swing of her hips is a little bit of Prozac. I like it more than I did the first time around. We realize around this point that friend Zrinka has an impressive knowledge of the words to most of the Eurovision entries tonight.

France, the second "Big Awesome Five" country, performs, and the gay segment of the audience will likely enjoy the topless male gymnasts leaping around leggy diva Anggun. But there's nothing really special going on here. Zrinka is singing along to it, though, thanks to her French instructor who handed her the lyrics earlier this week.

Italy is "Big Mother/Big Fucker Five" country number three, and serves up a swinging tune warbled by quite the hottie. Wow. It's pretty good! Italy is a "Big Five" country I can support!

Estonia's Ken doll is up next with his boring ballad. How did this get through the Semi-Finals?

Norway offers the "Tooji," a species of mammal genetically-engineered a quarter-century ago to win Eurovision in 2012. He has the funky dance moves, whips his head around in dramatic time to the beat, and grins on command. Zrinka describes him as "scary." The song is toe-tappingly catchy.

Host Azerbaijan offers its automatically-advancing tune, "When the Music Dies." It's OK.

Romania's ha-cha-cha-cha performance from Mandinga opens with a moonwalker clutching a bagpipe that looks as if it were designed by Dr. Suess.

Denmark's sailor-hat and epaulets-wearing girl performs her "Should've Known Better," which continues to please us.

Greece's ha-cha-cha-cha girl performs her horrible "Aphrodisiac" tune, shaking her ya-yas, her ta-tas, and her na-nas.

Sweden's Loreen, who channels every Kate Bush performance ever (there's "Wuthering Heights"! There's "Running Up That Hill"!), offers her crowd-pleasing tune. By Eurovision standards, this is pretty great. For our betting pool tonight, I have picked Sweden to win the whole thing.

Turkey is next. I was unimpressed by Turkey in the semis, but Ana and Zrinka make a good case for this quirky young guy's likeability. It will probably land in the top 10, since Turkey always does well thanks to its strong, Euro-wide diaspora.

Two Big Five countries follow, Spain and Germany, and that's all I'm going to say about them.

Malta is next with the fancy footwork guy. This guy's moves during one part of the chorus totally makes the performance watchable. And he knows it, which is why he performs that footwork bit for the cameras in the wings just before he takes the stage. If you did this move in a club, every woman in the room would sleep with you.

FYR Macedonia offers its strong and competent performance. Singer Kaliopi's vocals are powerful and spot on, and the song's melody packs a punch. Kaliopi is 45 years old, and demonstrates that she is every bit the seasoned professional. A performance like hers makes ha-cha-cha-cha Greek girl's "Aphrodisiac" look really stupid.

Speaking of stupid, here come Ireland's identical-twins Jedward in their "Starlight Express" outfits! Performance ends with them being doused with water—that can't be good for their microphones. Is that even safe? Poor as the song is, I still think Ireland should send Jedward every year.

After that bit of silliness, Serbia's intense Željko Joksimović takes the stage. Somebody recently sent me an e-card that read, "When Led Zeppelin is playing you shut the fuck up." Well, when Željko Joksimović is singing you shut the fuck up. This guy has a really intense presence. "It's because he's Serbian," Ana explains. At song's finish, it's clear that Macedonia and Serbia fatally Balkan body-slammed Jedward between them.

Ukraine offers the last ha-cha-cha-cha girl, whose song, friend Ivan notes, sounds utterly stolen from David Guetta. Former prime minister turned political prisoner Yulia Tymoshenko is tapping her foot to this in her Kiev jail cell.

Moldova finishes with its folk-influenced pop tune, which includes a hora. Nice, but it's not going to be a top 10 finisher.

Regarding our betting pool, we ditch the idea of wagering money this time around. Thus, Ivan voted more "from his heart" than from his head. We try to predict which countries will be in the top 10, and which one country will win the whole thing.

Ana and I predict Sweden will take it all. Ivan's heart tells him Macedonia. Zrinka is fond of Romania.

People across Europe, and those other not-exactly European countries that participate in the contest ("the sun never sets on the Eurovision empire") phone in their votes. You cannot vote for your own country, and so countries often vote for their neighbors, which has become a subject of controversy in Eurovision circles where this practice is referred to as "bloc voting." Since Western countries seem to sulk about this the most, I wonder if the term "bloc voting" is really a thinly-veiled allusion to "The Eastern Bloc"?

Time for the results. Each of 42 countries reports its voting results via live video feed. "Hello, Eurovision! Vienna calling!" the Austrian announcer might say, and then the numbers come in. One country's entry receives 1 point, another 2, then 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7. Then it's "the big points," which go up 8, 10, and 12. This is why "[fill in the name of a country] douze points!" has become a catch phrase in Eurovision circles, sort of like the "perfect 10" used to be in gymnastics before that got retired.

First off, we see that bloc voting is alive and well in the Balkans. Croatia, Montenegro, and Slovenia offer their top 12 points to Serbia; Serbia gives theirs to Macedonia; Macedonia gives 10 to Serbia and 12 to Albania; Bosnia & Herzegovina gives 10 to Serbia and 12 to Macedonia.

It's also alive and well in many other countries that have enjoyed close cultural and historical ties. Cyprus and Greece trade their 12 points. Autocratic Belarus, which last year attempted to send a song celebrating good old "U.S.S.R. times" before Eurovision said "Non") gives their 12 points to Mother Russia. Ukraine, which lately seems to be traveling down the road to Belarus, gives 10 points to Russia and 12 to former Soviet republic Azerbaijan. Azerbaijan and Turkey trade 12 points; Armenia, their shared thorn in their sides, boycotted Eurovision this year. In what often elicits the biggest groan of the night, Moldova gives 12 points to Romania and Romania gives 12 back to Moldova. And, very sneakily, since everyone likes to roar about Balkan abuse of bloc voting, the UK slipped 10 points to the miserable Jedward from Ireland ("There you go, lads, don't go spending it all in one place"). Ireland was not similarly impressed with the Humperdinck, however.

Scandinavia is much better behaved this year than usual when it comes to that whole bloc voting thing. Sweden gives 10 points to Serbia and 12 to Cyprus. Norway gives 10 points to Serbia and 12 to, OK, Sweden, but Sweden's song is really strong this year—tons of countries are handing it 12 points. Most surprisingly to my friends and me, Denmark and Norway sink to the bottom of the standings; neither country receives any big point assists from their neighbors.

Most amusing moment in the voting: Finland's results are reported by metal band Lordi, whose lead singer is dressed in full monster make-up. He announces that 8 points are going to "The hotest babe in the competition. Actually, six of them. Russia!" Russia's strategy of sending adorable grandmothers has worked out very well. They stay at or near the top of the list throughout the night.

As the results keep coming in, the top 10 solidify more and more, and the clear front-runner puts more and more distance between itself and the rest of the pack. Soon it's very clear: Sweden's "Euphoria" is going to win the whole thing, with more than a hundred points stretching between it and the second-place babushki.

***

Serbia clenched third. If you turned all the 10's and 12's Serbia got from its Balkan neighbors into zeros, Serbia would have fallen by only one spot to fourth place (of course, it's a silly hypothetical, since who knows how those 10 and 12 points would have been redistributed, but it tells you how strongly Serbia's song performed across Europe).

Host Azerbaijan was inexplicably in fourth, Albania's ear-shattering scary woman entry came in fifth (and later prompted this piece of journalism—thanks JP), and the boring ballad sung by the Estonian Ken Doll took sixth, which is weird. Turkey took seventh. Germany came in eighth, which is also weird. The more deserving Italy took ninth, and Spain finished 10th.

In last place was Norway whose "Tooji" probably had the worst Eurovision experience by any measure. The UK, Hungary, Denmark, and France rounded out the bottom five.

So, yeah! I predicted the winner for Eurovision—though not as decisively as I had back in 2011 when I figured Azerbaijan had it pretty well locked up by the end of Semi-Final 1. I did very poorly in picking the top 10. Most of us in that Zagreb kitchen, myself included, picked only 5 out of 10. I thought Norway and Denmark would be in the top 10, but they wound up in the bottom five. I never would have guessed that Germany and Estonia would wind up in the top 10.

Once again, Eurovision proved predictable in some of the dreariest of ways. For example, somebody needs to tell Romania and Moldova to stop exchanging those 12 points—do you have to be so obvious? But in other ways there were plenty of surprises. It was actually a pretty good field of entries this year. No, really! I mean, for a Eurovision, this was a pretty fun spectacle.

One last footnote. Since the Croatian commentator was talking over all the results, I missed a significant moment. From Wikipedia: "Before submitting the results from the German jury, Anke Engelke gave a live statement on the human-rights issues in the hosting country, saying: 'Tonight nobody could vote for their own country. But it is good to be able to vote. And it is good to have a choice. Good luck on your journey, Azerbaijan. Europe is watching you.' She was the only commentator to address human rights during the event."

Now that everyone has left the building, I have invited back my friend from Georgia, Anri Jokhadze, who offered the best performance not to advance to the finals. This is what Eurovision is all about. Enjoy!

Eurovision 2012: Summary of Semi-Final 2

Time for Eurovision Semi-Final 2! Sprinkle me with glitter and punch me in the face!

For those unfamiliar with Eurovision, I refer you to my recap of Semi-Final 1. For those without the will to click, here's a brief summary of what's going on tonight. A bunch of countries submit one song each to the contest, people across Europe vote for their favorite song, and the 10 most popular songs in tonight's field of 18 advance to Saturday's final. You cannot vote for your own country and you can only vote in the semi-final in which your country participates. And six countries skip the semi-finals completely and automatically advance to the finals. Confused? That's because the rules are stupid.

The hosts banter awkwardly in heavily-accented English. They explain the whole "Big Five" thing, where five countries get to skip the semis and go straight to the finals essentially because they are rich. This is really irritating and not fair. Fuck the Big Five. The sixth automatic advancer is last year's Eurovision-winning country, Azerbaijan. Because Azerbaijan won last year, that country has the honor of hosting this year's contest in the capital city of Baku, "The Sunny City," or "The Sport's City" [sic], or "The City of Jazz" depending on which propagandistic bumper segment shown during the telecast you wish to believe. Copiously missing is "Baku: The Center of Repressive Governance," but since it has so much to offer it's understandable that some of its charms have been omitted.

My friends and I (Ana, Ivan, Jelena, and Sisko) are seated in a Croatian kitchen, and we have bet five kune each on the results. We are also joined virtually by Ksenija in Ljubljana, who texts me her choices.

Here we go! Serbia's Željko Joksimović offers a strong performance. At one point the Kenny G-ish saxophonist strolls behind the singer, miming that he is playing despite the fact that we hear only strings. Many Balkan countries are performing tonight, which means they all have neighbors who might vote for them. Six votes "YES."

FYR Macedonia follows with a powerful and tasteful performance of its own. Once again we all vote "YES." We begin to worry that tonight's competition might actually be good, i.e., boring.

So thank goodness the Netherlands send out a woman wearing an American Indian headdress. We are uncertain what language she is performing in, until it slowly dawns on us that it is English. Europe has long had a tasteful fascination with Native Americans. Three "NO" votes, three "YES" votes.

During the "Come visit Azerbaijan—if you dare!" propaganda bumper segment we learn that Azerbaijan has a "Palace of Sheki Khan," and I start thinking "Sheki Khan let me rock you that's all I wanna do/Wanna love you wanna hold you wanna squeeze you too."

I try that joke out on my Croatian friends, but they don't seem to get it, maybe because not a lot of people remember Chaka Khan, but more probably because it just wasn't all that funny. Pretty interesting, huh?

Malta sends out a smiling, dancing robot man. He is a Gattaca-like model of Eurovision perfection. The song is OK, but then he does this astonishing fancy footwork thing, and we howl with joy. "Let's see that again!" we cry, weeping and clapping ecstatically. Later, during the recap, the producers wisely select this part of the performance as the highlight. All of us vote "YES."

Belarus will never advance in a Eurovision song contest because the "Last Dictatorship in Europe" (so bad a place to live that it makes Azerbaijan look good) has no friends. This bland rock band gives it their all. It is sad to think that later tonight these earnest young men will board a bus and take the long journey back to Minsk. There will be many misadventures along the way. Tears will be shed, laughter shared, and some friendships will turn into…something more. The bus will break down several times. Tires will be changed and new engine parts salvaged from various junk piles in Georgia and Russia. Never underestimate Belarusian ingenuity. Finally, in the middle of the night many months later, that beaten-up bus will arrive in Minsk, come to a stop, and then, with a mighty shudder, fall completely apart. President Lukashenko will greet each of the band members with a firm handshake. His other hand, held behind his back, will clutch a revolver. Four of us vote "NO" and two vote "YES."

Portugal offers the first of three songs tonight that will enjoy the distinction of receiving a unanimous six "NO" votes from us.

At last, we have a ha-cha-cha-cha woman, courtesy of Ukraine. "Be my guest!" she bellows while electronic dance beats pound behind her. A scary crowd of zombie Sims dance behind her on a giant video screen. It's really something. Four "YES" votes; two "NO."

Sofi Marinova, a well-known "chalga" singer in her native Bulgaria, performs "Love Unlimited," but despite the English title she sings in Bulgarian. This reflects a nice aspect of tonight's competition: there are lots of people singing in their native tongues. I don't remember hearing so many different languages in previous contests.

As Ana explains to me in that Zagreb kitchen, if you're sending a song to represent your country, and your native language is not English, it seems silly to sing in English. By the same token, if you come from the Netherlands and sing in English while wearing an American Indian headdress, you are colossally stupid.

Two Balkan countries, the ones I have been living in in recent months, are up next. We are not enthusiastic. Slovenia offers a Very Serious and Dramatic performance that is rewarded with a unanimous six "NO" votes from our panel. Croatia follows with a dull ballad that also garners six "NO" votes. Croatian and Slovenian nationalism is dead.

Sweden's Loreen is up next. She channels Kate Bush. Song has thumping beats and is very catchy. Hers is a real performance. It's the most interesting song of the night. This could even win it all. Six "YES" votes.

The most amazing performance of the night comes from Georgia. Anri Jokhadze begins by singing operatically while dressed as a monk. The robes come off, the leggy dancing girls appear, and Anri runs manically all over the stage, singing, dancing, and at one point pounding a piano. This guy should get his own TV show. Fuck that—this guy should get his own TV channel. Four votes "YES," two votes "NO."

It's a tough act for Turkey to follow. To complicate that country's chances even further, their song is shit. A skinny guy in a shiny black jacket tries his best to land the tween girl/gay male vote, but after Georgia's whirlwind performance the song's dullness and the singer's own lack of talent are palpable. Men dressed as bats jump around behind him. But as surely as they committed genocide against the Armenian people, tons of Turks througout Europe will vote for him anyway. Three votes "YES" and three votes "NO" from our Zagreb/Ljubljana panel of experts.

Estonia is next with a dull performance by Ken doll Ott Lepland. Four votes "NO" and two votes "YES."

Slovakia offer a hair metal band, and most of us assume that as there are no other hair metal bands in the competition they will get enough votes tonight to reach the finals. Best part of the song is the impressive opening shriek. Five votes "YES" and one vote "NO," from Ksenija, texting from Ljubljana.

Norway evidently kidnapped last year's "popular" Swedish singer Eric Saade and cloned him in order to create something called a "Tooji." The Tooji, Wikipedia notes, is "a Norwegian singer, model and television host." Song is big and dumb and gay and…really catchy! Four votes "YES" and two votes "NO."

Our last Balkan country, Bosnia & Herzegovina, performs. I have no memory of this song, but according to my notes our panel gave it three votes "YES" and three votes "NO."

Lithuania is last. Singer Donny Montell sings that "love is blind" while wearing a blindfold. But why is he wearing a blindfold? Oh, wait, I get it! Song is a dull ballad. Fuck, we have to end on this note? No! Because halfway through, Donny tears off the blindfold and does an improbable gymastics move as the tune transforms into a raucaus, banging dance song. Now everybody loves Donny Montell! We're clapping and shrieking and jumping up and down. Well, three of us anyway, who vote "YES," while the other three vote "NO."

Time for Europe to vote. For the first time ever I vote in a Eurovision song contest. I realize I am not a Croatian citizen and that the Eurovision police may track me down and lock me up for this transgression. I've already ditched the cell phone. But it was worth it. Clicking "send" was more exciting for me than casting my first vote in a U.S. presidential election. I cast my vote for Georgia, since I don't think the other entries I enjoyed tonight will need much help to get through.

When we return from a commercial break, we find that all the Eurovision winners of the last five years are belting out a manic and out of tune cover of ABBA's "Waterloo."

Random aside: according to the official Eurovision website, "Wireless microphones are not allowed in the premises of the Eurovision Song Contest."

Time for results!

Serbia - Yes! A worthy performance, no doubt further aided by bloc voting.

FYR Madeconia - Yes! Another safe, sort of dull, but perfectly competent entry.

Netherlands - No! Indian headdress—ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME NETHERLANDS?!?!?!

Malta - Hell yes! Fancy footwork dude is too cool to fail.

Belarus - Hell no! They're on that bus to the Minsk Death Camp as you read this.

Portugal - No! Since Spain is an automatically-advancing BIG FUCKING FIVE COUNTRY, and thus was ineligible to vote in tonight's semi-final, Portugal got no help from its neighbor.

Ukraine - Yes! The only ha-cha-cha-cha performance of the night gets through.

Bulgaria - No! Not a lot of chalga fans outside of Bulgaria.

Slovenia - No! Why on earth would we ever want to sit through that again?

Croatia - No! Slovenia and Croatia were both bad, but Croatia was the worst of the two.

Sweden - Hell yes! This could win the whole thing.

Georgia - No! Robbed! Definitely the best performance of the last two nights not to advance. And so went my 3.75 kuna vote.

Turkey - Yes! The Turkish voting bloc throughout Europe is a formidable thing. Think about that next time you order a kebab in Paris.

Estonia - Yes? Really? Yes! But-but-but...Fuckin' hell!

Slovakia - No. Hair metal is denied in Eurovision 2012. Only Ksenija in Ljubljana made the right call here.

Norway - Hell yes! Denmark (who performed on Tuesday), Sweden, and Norway all have strong entries. Look for all three to finish in the top ten on Saturday.

Bosnia & Herzegovina - Yes! It's good that this got voted through, since I have no memory of it. Now I can look forward to seeing/forgetting it again on Saturday.

Lithuania - Hell yes! We want to see that performance again.

The winners of tonight's betting pool: Sisko and Ksenija, who both picked 8 out of 10. The results are below:

And so Semi-Final 2 comes to an end. I'm really hung-over. Not sure how I'll make it through Saturday night's grand finale. "Eurovision! It Will Kill You!"

Eurovision 2012: Summary of Semi-Final 1

This year's Eurovision Song Contest host is Azerbaijan, probably the only country in the history of the competition to enjoy the distinction of having hauled its own citizens in for questioning at the Ministry of National Security over the way that they had voted in previous contests. Which is befitting a country that would also arrest a man in a donkey suit.

But Eurovision, the song contest that gave us ABBA, Celine Dione, and—did I mention ABBA?—continues to put on its cheery Joker face, insisting that it remains a celebration of peace and love, and that the host country, lovingly presented throughout the telecast in slow-motion, high definition glory, is paradise. Throughout Semi-Final 1 we are informed that Azerbaijan is "The Land of Poetry," and "Snow," and "Friends," although none of the Azeri people's friends are Armenians. Armenia and Azerbaijan are locked in a so-called "frozen conflict" over a piece of territory called Nagorno Karabakh. This is just a dumb Eurovision blog, so all you need to know about that whole thing is that it is one of several flash points around the world that could lead to World War III. As a result of the tension, Armenia is boycotting this year's Eurovision, and odds are good (unfortunately, for their political aspirations) that they will not be missed. That's what happens when you stomp out of a room in protest; everyone forgets you were ever there. Especially when there are 18 countries performing tonight in this first of two semi-finals.

To quickly explain to any Eurovision virgins what is going on here: Eurovision is a song contest started in 1956. It's sort of the granddaddy of the whole "Idol" concept. Each participating country sends a song, performed by a representative (who can come from pretty much anywhere; Canada's Celine Dion famously sang the winning entry for Switzerland in 1988), and then people across Europe (and a few other places, such as Israel) call in to vote for the song/country that they liked best. You cannot vote for your own country's song.

The winning country gets to host the competition the following year. Last year, Eldar and Nigar (given the more Anglicized names "Ell and Nikki" for Western audiences) from Azerbaijan sang the song that I very famously* predicted was going to win the whole thing. It really was worthy, but as soon as Azerbaijan won, the Eurovision organizers carved those cheerful Joker smiles onto their faces with pen knives, because in truth they knew this was going to be a political headache, considering that Armenia had frequently used Eurovision as a political platform in the past, and Azerbaijan bars Armenians from entry into their country. Anyway, like I said, Armenia boycotted, so...problem solved. Sure makes things easier for everyone when you just give up.

Let's go! Eighteen countries compete tonight—ten will advance to the final. On Thursday another batch will compete and another ten will advance. And to add to the fun, three Croatian friends and I are betting a nominal amount of money on which countries those will be. We are watching Semi-Final 1 in a kitchen somewhere in Zagreb.

From the always-cheery, exclamation-mark-peppered Eurovision website: "The hosts of the show are Nargiz Birk-Petersen, Eldar Gasimov who won the Eurovision last year as part of Ell/Nikki and Leyla Alieva who are all eager to welcome the millions of viewers to Baku for tonight's show!"

The off-camera Croatian narrator talks all over the hosts' greetings, which is annoying, and friend Zrinka, who is responsibly drinking tea while the rest of us pound Karlovačko beer, explains a new rule change that he is describing. I'll get to that in a moment, but about the rules in general...Eurovision constantly changes its voting rules in an effort to ensure that the process of selecting a winner is as undemocratic as possible. This is due in part to past complaints about "bloc voting." That's where, say, Ukraine votes for neighbor Russia and Russia votes for Ukraine. It's been traditional for Western European countries to pick on the Eastern ones for bloc voting, although Scandinavia and many other regions have been guilty of this for years.

Eurovision's undemocratic process is also due to certain countries' affluence; the countries with the largest TV viewing audiences and who put the most money into staging the competition tend to be handed several competitive advantages, including the fact that—and this is really unbelievable, but (really, fuck, I cannot believe I'm writing this)—the top five "biggest" countries (France, Germany, Italy, Spain, and the UK) get to SKIP THE SEMI-FINALS AND GO STRAIGHT TO THE FINAL. It's like saying that the athletes from the countries that fund the Olympics the most can skip all the qualifying heats and go straight to the final races. It's like saying a candidate for the Republican nomination for president could just buy the party's nomination—thank God that stuff doesn't happen in America. Anyway, this "skip right to the final" thing is why these irritatingly-labeled "big five" countries are RIGHTLY HATED by the rest of Europe, so much so that I am writing in ALL CAPS to YELL my DISENCHANTMENT.

So the new rule Zrinka explained to us...If your country is not performing in that night's semi-final, you cannot vote in that semi-final at all. That means that some countries tonight will get to enjoy a bloc voting advantage (for example, Romania and their Romanian-speaking neighbor Moldova both hit the stage tonight, so each can vote for the other), but poor Latvia has been cleaved from Lithuania and really has no friends to help it through this semi-final.

Montenegro is first up, with Rambo Amadeus, who has the distinction of having the best name and worst song of the night. Every year a country makes the mistake of mocking the competition by sending some joke entry, and it always backfires. That's because Eurovision is obviously ridiculous to begin with, and we viewers are OK with that. The song here is called "Euro Neuro," and the song is as crap as that title. Rambo Amadeus stumbles around like the last unloved drunk guy at a wedding reception, in a disheleved tuxedo, doing spoken-word poetry to a jazz funk soundtrack. He performs beside a Trojan horse while banners with messages like "Give me a chance to refinance" are unfurled. I am reminded of William Shatner's performance art.

All four of us in that Zagreb kitchen (Ivan, Sisko, Zrinka, and myself) vote "NO" on this guy. Nice knowin' ya, Rambo Amadeus.

Next up is Iceland's pretentious "Never Forget." Lots of serious facial expressions, and there's a woman who switches back and forth between playing violin and singing. It's terrible, but it has all the elements of a Eurovision winner, and so all four of us vote "YES."

The first of the inevitable leggy ha-cha-cha-cha girls performs. Greece's Eleftheria Eleftheriou sings "Aphrodisiac." Isn't this supposed to be a family show? "I want your aphrodisiac!" she yelps from atop mile-high legs. She's cute; the song is awful. But with Greece having such a tough time of things in the European Union, it seems a pity vote is inevitable. Plus, ha-cha-cha-cha! All four of us vote "YES."

Latvia are next with "Beautiful Song." It sounds like a masterpiece after Greece's "Aphrodisiac," but let's face it, these plain-looking women in their plain dresses are plainly not igniting the audience. And, as I mentioned earlier, neighbor Lithuania can't vote tonight, so Latvia are stranded. Nonetheless, somewhat hopefully I give them a "YES," while my friends more prudently offer three "NO" votes.

Albania's Rona Nishliu is next, belting out "Suus." I am informed that Albania suffered a terrible tragedy recently: at least 13 people were killed there in a university bus crash. Pity for Albania may carry them through to the finals.

But it turns out Rona is actually an excellent singer, and pity might not be necessary to get her through. In fact, she is probably the best singer of the night. The problem is that the song she is singing is terrifying. She howls and roars and barks and snarls and shrieks her way through it, eliciting applause from the audience throughout. It may be a case of the best singer singing the worst song of the night (except for "Euro Neuro"). I never want to hear this ever again. But audience applause indicates it will go through; three of us vote "YES" and Zrinka is the holdout with her more hopeful "NO."

Romania sends leggy ha-cha-cha-cha girl number two in the form of Mandinga. Song is an agreeable enough piece of Latin pop fluff. Moldova will vote for them as well tonight, so it seems a good bet it will advance. Four votes "YES."

Switzerland serves up some emo-esque rock thing called "Unbreakable," where we are informed that "You can do anything you want/It doesn't matter how hard it is." That's the sort of Eurovision lyric fans of the show love. No matter how untrue that is. I vote "NO," and the other three vote "YES."

Belgium sends a sweet, innocent young woman to sing a sweet, innocent song with the forgettable title, "Would You?" Props to backlighting her at the start of her performance in the flimsy dress, however, to counter all that innocence. But four out of four of us vote "NO."

Finland is next. The song is good—maybe even "great," at least in that "In the Kingdom of the Blind the One-Eyed Are Kings" sense. The singer has great poise. But I vote "NO" because she is singing in Finnish Swedish**, and generally it's not a good idea to sing in a non-English language at Eurovision. Yes, there have been recent Eurovision winners who sang in their native, non-English tongue, but it's a very rare thing. People would rather hear bad English than good Swedish. Anyway, "NO" from me, but three "YES" votes from the others in that Zagreb kitchen.

Israel sends out a foppish guy fronting a goofy band performing something like 50's rock 'n' roll. It's actually pretty difficult to watch. "We're quirky and fun!" they seem to cry—desperately. Four "NO" votes.

San Marino, The Country No One Knows About, performs next. OK, a little geography. Tiny San Marino is surrounded by Italy, but since Italy is an automatically-advancing "big five" country, and therefore is ineligible to vote in the semis, San Marino will get no Italian votes tonight. Song is a sort of synth poppy thing with the timely title of "The Social Network Song," and the timeless subtitle of "Oh Oh - Uh - Oh Oh" appended to it. I'm on the fence on this one, but I decide in the end to vote "NO." My three friends agree.

Cyprus sends us leggy ha-cha-cha-cha girl number three. The moment she opens her mouth to sing, the blood in all our veins turns to ice. She is horrible. Horrible! The only way she is going to get through is via sex appeal. Two of us, myself included, vote "NO," but the other two wager that sex appeal will win the day for Cyprus.

As of this semi-final, my pick to win the whole competition is Denmark. The song is catchy, safe, and sung by a cute young woman who wears a fetching sailor hat and epaulets. She sounds rusty when she begins, not as good as she did in the Danish competition where she was originally selected (yep, I'm a Euro music junkie), but the song gradually wins people over. Four out of four of us vote "YES." On to my third half litre of beer.

Russia's entry has gotten a lot of attention. The song is sung by a group of adorable old babushkas who perform in traditional folk vocal style before techno beats start playing underneath them. Old women singing to techno! How cute! They mime baking bread. The "maybe it's true" story, I am told, is that they are raising money for a church. It would take a heartless person to vote against them.

I am such a person. They are actually quite bad. As an insufferably pretentious music nerd, I have listened to many such folk performances from Ukraine and Russia, and I have to say these women sound pitchy, a bit off time, and damn, this whole concept is just shameless pandering, isn't it? I see Vladimir Putin chortling over a vodka. "I'm brilliant!" he says before sinking the shot, for he probably rigged the selection process to get them through in the first place. "No one will DARE vote against a group of adorable old women!"

A quick cut to the audience reveals a bunch of people waving their flags with moderate gusto and slightly bored expressions, as if they are saying, "Hey, I guess this is supposed to be fun or something!" For a moment I wonder if the lyrics the kindly grandmothers are singing are: "Russia will drink your blood/From the goblets of your skulls!" Anyway, there's absolutely no way this won't advance. All four of us vote "YES," recognizing that terrible inevitability.

Hungary sends a perfectly agreeable and catchy rock song called "Sound of Our Hearts" by Compact Disco, and seeing that there are not many viable rock entries in this semi-final I reckon they're more likely to get through than that Swiss group we've already forgotten about. So, three "YES" votes, with the abstaining "NO" coming from Zrinka, who at this stage has been very unimpressed with the entries in general.

Austria sends Trackshittaz, a rap duo who, about a year ago, an Austrian friend once personally apologized to me for. Let me reiterate: they are called "Trackshittaz." "Trackshittaz" and "Aphrodisiac" in the same night; a very raunchy Eurovision 2012! Three of us vote "NO," but Zrinka finds the song quite catchy, and it's true that you can even hear people in the audience chanting along to it.

Moldova sends a likeable enough guy, and there haven't been many likeable enough guys in the competition for the women and gay men in the TV audience out there to vote for. Plus, Romania will vote for them tonight, so I vote "YES" along with Zrinka on that one, and the other lads vote "NO."

Finally, Ireland sends its most adored cultural icon after the leprechaun: a Jedward. These identical twin brothers represented Ireland last year, and they placed very well (Ireland landed in 8th place in the final). They wear white Flash Gordon-esque outfits. I am informed that they have had their hair insured. I think it would be great if Ireland sent Jedward to every Eurovision from now until the day they die.

With that, it's on to the voting. For about half an hour, citizens from 18 countries phone in their votes, but we Croatians and pseudo-Croatians are powerless to affect the results and will have to wait until Thursday to have our say in Semi-Final 2. During the break there is a long performance of traditional Azeri folk music, and we see that the leggy Greek singer is getting into it, ha-cha-cha-cha.

Finally, the results are announced, with the usual unfunny "draw out the suspense" teasing from the host. Who will be the 10 who advance?

Montenegro's Rambo Amadeus - Hell no! You can't mock a contest that already knows it's ridiculous.

Iceland - Yes! Look serious and wield a violin and your chances are pretty good.

Greece - Yes! Ha-cha-cha-cha!

Latvia - No! Which leaves me wondering, why did I throw away my prediction on them despite all the evidence to the contrary?

Albania - Yes! Which means you should bring earplugs to the Saturday finale.

Romania - Yes! Ha-cha-cha-cha number 2.

Switzerland - No! Who can even remember this act?

Belgium - No! Too sweet and safe and…zzzzzzzz.

Finland - No! And this beomes a subject of much debate between my friends and me. I continue to go by my, "If it ain't in English, it probably ain't advancing" argument. Actually, if folks are going to sing in English more, more entries should use the word "ain't."

Israel - No! It was so crazy wacky! Oooo, my head hurt!

San Marino - Oh oh - uh - no no.

Cyprus - Yes! Ha-cha-cha-cha number 3. A pretty face and legs will get you far in life.

Denmark - Yes! And I repeat, I think this sounds like it could be the overall winner.

Russia - Yes! Of course you can't vote against adorable babushkas.

Hungary - Yes! It was the one rock-ish number allowed to survive the night, and will ensure at least a tiny bit of variety on Saturday's final.

Austria - Hell no! They were called "Trackshittaz"!

Moldova - Yes! "He's such a happy and nice young man, let us vote for him!" Plus, there was a hora.

Jedward. I mean, Ireland! - Of course! Who wouldn't want to see that performance again, if only to gawk?

With that, the results of our betting pool are as shown below.

Yep, I won. B-) I collected enough money to buy half a sandwich today. Which is good, considering yesterday I received a formal email from my office requesting my letter of resignation. Seems I have spent too much time over here. Anyone have any need for a writer who specializes in Eurovision song contests?

See you after Semi-Final 2.

* Actually, nobody noticed or cared.

** Thanks to Ksenija, who corrected me on what language the Finnish singer was singing in. Who'd a thunk Finland would send a singer who warbled in Swedish? Reports Wikipedia: "It is the second time Swedish lyrics are used for a Finnish entry in the Eurovision Song Contest, the first being 'Fri?' performed by Beat in 1990."

Armenia, Azerbaijan, Eurovision, and Strategy

Azerbaijan's Eurovision 2011 win means that country will be hosting Eurovision 2012 on its own turf. The problem is that Azerbaijan is at war with another country that regularly sends Eurovision delegations: Armenia. The war is often described as a "frozen conflict"; the two countries are sort of like struggling arm-wrestlers, neither of whom can overcome the other one. The fuss is over a territory in Azerbaijan called the Nagorno Karabakh Republic (NKR), which is occupied by ethnic Armenians and that operates as a de facto country, although it technically exists on Azerbaijani soil (naturally, in playing the public-relations game the NKR presents itself as a country). Flare-ups regularly occur around the NKR border, with casualties from time to time.

The consequence is that neither Armenian nationals, nor people in other countries who are of Armenian descent, and nobody at all whose passport shows signs of its owner having made a visit to the NKR (excepting diplomatic work), are allowed entry into Azerbaijan. This presents a fascinating political dilemma when it comes to Azerbaijan hosting Eurovision 2012. How can Azerbaijan bar an Armenian delegation from competing at Eurovision, a contest whose peace-and-love-trumps-politics idealism is captured by its heart-shaped logo?

Rumors have started to circulate that Armenia might boycott Eurovision 2012. It's interesting that one of the people advancing these rumors is Ismayil Omarov, general director of Azerbaijan's Public TV & Radio Broadcasting Company, who stated in a press conference on Tuesday, "As regards the involvement of Armenian representatives in this contest, I have been informed that the Armenians said they would not participate in the contest when asked about it. If this is really so, then I regret it..."

That's a pretty fishy thing to put out there; a rumor that even Mr. Omarov confesses is hearsay. It's like a right-wing radio host saying, "I hear that Barack Obama boils and eats babies. If this is really so, then I regret it."

No doubt, Mr. Omarov's rumor is the product of wishful thinking on his end. The best thing that could happen for Azerbaijan is for Armenia to boycott Eurovision 2012. Then, Azerbaijan can conduct business-as-usual, no longer forced to confront the complicated issue of permitting travel for Armenians into Azerbaijan. Armenia will imagine that it is making a big statement, when in fact few will really notice their absence.

(To the rest of the world, an Armenian boycott would only affirm what we already know, which is that Armenia and Azerbaijan do not get along. So what is the value of making that obvious statement? Also, you can be the elephant in the room so long as you remain in it, but once you walk out, how quickly you are forgotten.)

So may I make a suggestion? From the Armenian perspective, the best thing to do right now is wait and think. While doing so, Armenia holds all the cards, whereas to boycott is to fold one's hand. There is plenty of time to make a decision (for example, I see that Hungary did not announce their intention to participate in 2011 until December 2010).

But when the time for action comes, it seems the most sensible thing for Armenia to do is to announce their intention to participate in Eurovision 2012.

From the Azerbaijani perspective, the negatives would include, obviously, a headache regarding the method for allowing Armenians into their country (if at all; though a refusal would be a public-relations nightmare for Azerbaijan). And one scenario likely to keep Azerbaijanis awake at night is the potential for Armenian would-be terrorists to make a violent statement on the international stage that is Eurovision. The security challenges would include not only the need to assure the safety of Baku's people, but to also guarantee the safety of the Armenian delegation (Azerbaijan would not want its Eurovision to go down in the history books like Munich's Olympic games of 1972).

But nothing worth doing is ever easy, and if all goes well at Eurovision 2012 it might be a positive sign that progress can be made in peacefully settling these countries' differences. A successful Eurovision 2012, with Armenia's participation, could be the start of a thaw, ever so tepid though it might be.

Something has to give in that region eventually; why not use a cheery song contest as the vehicle for releasing some of the pressure? Of course, doing so might also trigger an all-out earthquake. It's certainly a gamble, but seeing that the only alternative is a conflict seemingly frozen for perpetuity, it seems one worth making.

The EU, Diasporas, and Conflict

Seems most of the problems in Europe and Eurasia are derived from tensions between diasporas that seek either unification with other countries or their own independence, and the governments of the countries that host them. One region that has traditionally had some issues is the one I am visiting right now: Cluj-Napoca, a Romanian city with a sizable Hungarian diaspora.

Romania's Hungarian diaspora is the result of the usual tug-of-war between Central and Eastern European countries that went on throughout the centuries. Only a couple of hours ago I heard high school kids speaking Hungarian, and this morning Cristina and I visited a Catholic church where wreathes decorated with Hungarian flags lay beneath a sculpture of the crucified Christ. To counterbalance this Hungarian-ness there is a more nationalistic fervor amongst "traditional" Romanians living in the city.

But things have been OK here in Cluj, as opposed to the much more worrying state of affairs one encounters in the Balkans, Moldova, Ukraine, and the various Eurasian countries.

The difference seems to be the EU. Cristina noted this morning that the EU makes borders less relevant. Hungarian-speaking Romanians who wish to travel from Romania to their friends and family in Hungary, or vice-versa, can do so relatively painlessly, as opposed to those who must travel from country to country outside the EU.

The difficulties of traveling to Russia are especially pronounced. Even a tourist must jump through a series of gauntlets to get in (this includes the need for an official letter of invitation from somebody within the country; hotels will write these for the tourists who plan to stay in them).

It seems that with more open borders between countries the potential for conflict between those countries would be diminished. While throwing open the border between Azerbaijan and Armenia would be foolish if done tomorrow, it seems in the long run that fluid borders could provide a safety valve for releasing pressure that has traditionally come from diasporas that, due to their present political situations, feel (or literally are) trapped within their countries.