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.

Mr. Lava Reports - Summary of I SO TOTALLY CALLED EUROVISION 2011!!!!!!

The official Eurovision site roars: tonight is “The Grand Final!” of Eurovision Song Contest Düsseldorf 2011!!!! In addition to learning which song will win, we will also learn the identity of the next country to host Eurovision, since the competition moves to the winner’s home turf the following year.

38 countries fought for a chance to be in tonight’s final, with 20 surviving this week’s battles. Five other countries lamely automatically advanced—the so-called “Big Five,” (France, Italy, Spain, the UK, and Germany; though Germany would have been afforded this courtesy anyway, since they won last year, and last year’s winner also earns that privilege).

The BIG FIVE are not big because of their talent (please), or their track record at winning Eurovisions (pretty terrible), or even the sizes of their dicks (teensy dicks), but rather because of their large potential television audiences and the dollars they in turn invest into the contest. I explained all this in a blog entry that Blogger deleted due to a catastrophic IT error on their end earlier this week; they say one day that entry might get restored.

If you’ve seen the semi-finals you're in for some deja-vu. The choreography and camera angles and costumes and, of course, the songs themselves are all the same—with the exception of those five cut-to-the-front-of-the-line SUPER DUPER FIVE qualifiers. Fuckers.

The audience, led by some unseen male cheerleader, sings the Eurovision theme. There are no lyrics, so we hear a spirited roar of "Da-da-das."

Here we go!

Tradition dictates that last year’s winning song opens the competition. Cleverly, host Stefan Raab launches into a performance of Lena’s 2010 winning-tune “Satellite"—reinterpreted as a high-energy big-band number. Stefan may be a comedian, but he has musical talent as well (check out his amusing “Wadde Hadde Dudde Da” from several years ago to see what I mean). Co-hosts Anke and Judith prove to be capable doo-woppers. And then Lena herself joins in! It's brilliant.

“Lena! Lena!” the crowd chants! Lena will be back on stage later, as a real competitor for Germany once more.

The streaming webcast suffers from a noticeable split-second delay between audio and picture.

A 90 second time-compressed film showing the transformation of Düsseldorf's arena from football stadium to Eurovision venue follows. Then the voting process is explained: it's a 50/50 split between the popular televote from the great unwashed (like on all those "Idol" shows) and each country’s mysterious Star Chamber jury of supposed music experts.

Let's go let's go let's go!

As in the semis, every artist is introduced by a short clip showing a random "everyday" person from the representative country experiencing some aspect of Germany. We learn, for example, that in Germany, Moldovans are employed as window-washers, and that Romanians deface walls with graffiti.

Finland's too-sweetly earnest “let’s save the environment” songster takes the stage. As occurred during his semi-final performance, when the giant planet earth rises behind him on a massive video screen, the crowd roars their approval. “EARTH!!!!!” they cry, weeping ecstatically.

Dino Merlin got saddled with the dreaded opening slot in Thursday’s semi-final, but luckily was remembered all the way to the end of the show. So here he is again—tackling the number two spot. He's the oldest performer in the contest, which generates instant sympathy for him. But he earns his respect, too. He is a terrific showman.

On Thursday, the audience clapped enthusiastically along to his tune, which was a nice sentiment, but the arena's acoustics led to a delay which threatened to throw off Dino’s timing. The Eurovision web site announces that the problem has been solved; instead of wearing the usual one "in-ear" playback earpiece, he will wear two—in the same ear. No, sillies!—one in each ear, to drown out the over-enthusiastic but less-musically gifted audience. This proves a good call; as he starts to play, the audience clapping delay becomes a noticeable problem once more, but he marches through. It’s a fine performance. This crazy old coot has something going on.

During the next country intro clip, the audio-visual synchronization issues are resolved. Now we’re rockin’!

Denmark takes the stage with their “surprise hair” lead singer, whose locks are combed straight up in the air Jedward-style (more on Jedward later) and frozen in place by at least two cans of hairspray. Song sounds perfectly polished. Lyrics are about saving the world. Here's an interesting fact about this song: it’s crap.

There is not a single BIG HUGE MEGA FIVE country among the first ten, meaning loyal Eurovision viewers will have to endure at least 40 minutes of performances they’ve seen before.

Lithuania is next of those, with their Andrew Lloyd Webberish song, complete with the singer’s sign-language interpretive gestures. No kidding; when she breaks out the sign-language, approving applause erupts from the audience—presumably from all the deaf people who were, until that moment, contemplating a refund for their ill-advised investment.

Hungary is up next with its disco torch song, “What About My Dreams?” Well, what about them? Singer is a needy woman for sure. Enthusiastic crowd starts clapping along, off-time. I hope she's wearing two in-ear pieces like Dino. Song is big and gay. And damn catchy! Energy level in the arena rises.

And then comes Jedward! Wait-wait-wait Eurovision. SLOW DOWN. Are we going to use up all our high-energy performances before the halfway point? We face a potential premature ejaculation.

As Jedward, those skinny identical twins from Ireland with their own "surprise hair," spring and bounce about the stage, we begin to realize, oddly enough, that they are actually…pretty talented? Jedward begin to acquire an underdog appeal, further augmented by the appearance of the next act.

That would be traditional pretty-boy Eric Saade, here to sing his miserable—yet Eurovision-perfect—song "Popular." He wails about his desire to become popular and tells us that his body "wants you, girl." We breathe a sigh of relief when we realize that this will be the last time we will ever have to see this performance again. Oh no—unless he wins! *Shudder.*

Estonia is up next with their cutesy/strange dollhouse-come-to-life performance. It’s a weird song, but shouldn’t we appreciate an unorthodox effort? Singer Getter Jaani is cool enough in my book to do whatever she likes. But will Europe agree?

I am surprised that Greece survived the semi-finals. Here they are again. A grunting, snorting rapper stomps out on stage. Then he is joined by a handsome but dour big-voiced singer. They are “Loucas Yiorkas featuring Stereo Mike.” I am going to take a wild guess and assume that “Stereo Mike” is the rapper. What a ponderous piece of shit. Is this some sort of modern art lament over Greece’s collapsed economy?

This is followed by the other “they really shouldn't be here” country, which is Russia, who offer a baby-faced version of James Dean. The singer's name is "Alexey," a point driven home with the subtlety of a falling anvil when the background dancers turn around revealing letters attached to their backs which spell out “ALEX.” Should I be excited? Apparently we have a Russian star in our midst! Note: all the Moscow journalists who heroically pointed out how terrible Russia’s entry is are now dead.

At last, something new: a BIG HUGE FUCKING FIVE country! France is tipped by some to win, says the Wall Street Journal. I said “no way” when I read that article on Friday night—after having consumed several Harp lagers, which made me even more opinionated and belligerent. The WSJ reports that it's great that he's singing opera, and that he sings in the Corsican language. I say opera sucks, and (besides the Corsicans) who in Europe gives a fuck that he sings in the Corsican language?

And who does this guy’s hair? It looks as disheveled as mine! Except that I’m not performing in front of 100 million people right now!

Another so-called BIG MASSIVE SUPER DUPER FIVE COUNTRY!!!!—Italy—is next. Their tune is sophisticated because it’s jazzy. It sounds like a thousand other sophisticated, jazzy tunes you’ve heard from several dozen well-groomed jazzy-pop dudes. In other words, Italy, like France, has tried too hard, and will not win Eurovision this year. I don’t think they’ll even crack the top 10.

Let’s go backstage and meet the performers! Dino Merlin stumbles through an interview with Judith, revealing his obviously limited English, and explains that, as a returning performer to Eurovision, everything is “in rewind.” We love the guy even more. The happy feeling Dino's interview leaves us with is then trampled when we learn that A Friend in London’s lead singer is wearing half a shirt.

Switzerland’s “oh that was nice, I guess” song is next. The Twitter feed scrolling alongside the streaming video is revealing: a couple of people exclaim she has forgotten the words to the song! I don’t think many people noticed. If you are the Swiss delegation and you are reading this right now, let me assure you: you didn’t lose because you forgot the lyrics.

And now, it's Blue, representing the LET US SAY "HALLELUJAH" TO ANOTHER BIG! FIVE! COUNTRY! known as the United Kingdom. Ten years ago this man group was the even more boring version of Westlife and 5ive. Fortunately, this is the most up-tempo song Blue has ever performed. But—whoa—major pitch problems right before the chorus! We cringe.

What’s funny about Blue’s performance is that English speakers often laugh at other countries' campy Eurovision performances, but if you dubbed Dutch on top of what we just saw we would be witnessing exactly the same kind of silliness.

Oh no, it's time for Moldova's Zdob şi Zdub, whose manic performance is to Eurovision what Robin Williams is to comedy. I'm too exhausted to say any more.

And then it's Germany's Lena!!!!! We brace ourselves for a big roar from host country Germany! And there it is!

Cleverly, for the intro clip, they use Anke, Stefan, Judith, and Eurovision's behind-the-scenes crew as the representatives for Germany.

Lena takes the stage. The song is slinky, with appropriately slinky choreography. This song is too cool to win. But we make a startling observation. Tons of sexy singers have flaunted their long, long legs during the competition, but Lena is the first performer who actually acts sexy. She flashes come-hither glances into the camera, captured in extreme close up. We readjust ourselves. Ohhhhhh, Lena.

Romania is up next. It is foarte boring!

As a whole, the show is making impressive time. We are 80 minutes deep, and 16 out of 25 performances have taken place. Every Eurovision song clocks in at nearly exactly three minutes, there are no commercial breaks, and there is a minimum of host interruptions.

Leggy Austria is up next. Song is a gospel pop ballad thing, which might sound boring when I put it that way, but it’s actually pretty impressive thanks to the abundant vocal talents of singer Nadine Beiler.

Azerbaijan, my pick to win the competition, perform another rendition of the world’s greatest high school slow dance song.

I'm running I'm scared tonight!
I'm running I'm scared of life!
I'm running I'm scared of breathing!
Coz I adore you!

There is no greater paean to true love in Eurovision 2011 than this song. I'm tearing up at the memory of it. But their voices sound ragged! Will that cost Azerbaijan?

In a semi-final recap I said that Georgia's lead singer was as talented as her band’s song was terrible. Similarly, Slovenia’s singer is as hot as her song is boring. “There’s no reason I should cry-eee-yaiiii!” the Slovenian woman wails. "O yeah, I’m never gonna let CHEW! No one will ever treat CHEW right!"

More backstage interviews, this time with cute Eric Saade, who says he has to pee—awwwww, he’s just like us, for we, too, pee! Then, we learn that the whole competition is staged, because they have already manufactured the official DVDs for Eurovsion 2011—for sale right now on the Eurovision.tv website!

Iceland return! So cute and full of smile! Maybe they win? You never know! ;-)

The last HUGE ASS FUCKING FIVE country takes the stage: Spain. Their lead singer has the biggest eyes of anyone in the competition—you can see her blink from the back of the arena. She also has the biggest mouth. That’s a compliment! In true stereotypical Spanish fashion we are served a happy fiesta of a song, performed with that mile-wide smile. Well all right—I guess that was fun, thanks!

Ukraine returns with the sand animation woman. There is also a singer singing something in front of her!

Serbia is up with their 1960s "Laugh In" performance that needs only Goldie Hawn in go-go boots to be complete. “Sock it to me!”

Time for the last act of the night. It’s Georgia’s nu nu metal group. It’s terrible, but only because the whole nu metal genre is. But for what it is, the performance goes very well. Until—whoa!!!!! Singer chick goes way off time during the microphone distortion part. A literal poor note to end on.

So that means there have been three overt mistakes in this competition (as far as I can tell): UK’s Blue guy going way pitchy before the first chorus, Switzerland reportedly forgetting the words, and this. Live TV, folks!

Time to recap the performances. They show snippets of all 25 songs. For Switzerland’s they choose to extract the “Nanananananananaanananana” part, maybe because the singer had forgotten her..well, forgettable... lyrics?

To pass the time before voting results are revealed, they show, as host Stefan Raab says, “Music that you don’t have to vote for." It's a live music performance from a German guy! The world collectively rises from their chairs and heads for the bathroom.

But then Hamburg singer Jan Delay takes the stage. Most journalists at this point would just make a comment about the funny German man running around in a plaid suit, blue tie, and fedora. But you’ve landed in more experienced hands. Jan has had a huge number of hit singles in Germany, some of which are catchy in any language. He opens with “Oh Jonny,” a raucous 2009 song (the video for which is a fun homage to The Blues Brothers). Then he rips through the even-better “Klar," delivered with more energy than the already excellent original. Jan Delay rocks! He makes passing the time before the results a pleasure.

Hosts Anke, Stefan, and Judith, who also hosted the semi-finals, seem to have found their groove at last. Stefan carries Anke over his shoulder up some steps on the stage. Facing the backdrop behind the stage, he roars “Tear down this wall!” (for you younger readers, that's a cutesy Berlin Wall-reference). The wall behind the stage divides into two and dramatically parts, revealing the pod-like rooms containing the excited Eurovision competitors behind it.

And with that, it's time to tabulate the votes. 43 nations voted (each of the nations that sent delegations to the competition). Each of the voting countries is represented by somebody who pops up on a video feed and reveals how that country's votes were distributed. A country cannot vote for itself. One country gets 1 point, another 2, then it goes 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and then the big points: 8, 10, and 12 . So 12 points is the maximum. It’s alternative voting—and it makes sense! Well, not everyone agrees, but I approve!

“Feel Your Heart Beat!” is the official slogan of the competition, and seriously, the tabulation of the votes gets the heart racing. I want to take a moment to say that everyone who fought their way here through the semi-finals should go home feeling like a winner. Which obviously does not include "The Big Five."

One by one the countries reveal their votes, each set of results changing the rank order of competitors. One country pulls ahead, then another. In text I can only summarize the larger picture:

Many Western European countries are sore about Eastern European, Balkan, and Caucasus counties “bloc voting” for their neighbors. So, during this round of voting, we see the affirmation:

1) Slovenia gives 10 points to Serbia and their maximum of 12 to Bosnia and Herzegovina.
2) Serbia gives 10 points to Slovenia and 12 to Bosnia and Herzegovina.
3) Bosnia and Herzegovina gives 12 points to Slovenia.
4) Croatia gives 8 points to Bosnia and Herzegovina and 12 points to Slovenia.

Former Yugoslavia hasn’t been this unified since Tito! Brotherhood and unity! Also:

5) Cyprus gives 12 points to Greece.
6) Turkey gives 12 points to Azerbaijan.
7) Romania gives 12 points to Moldova, and…
8) …Moldova says “right back atcha, Romania."

Yeah, the Balkans, Eastern Europe, and the Caucasus totally bloc vote! Fuckers!

Except, the open-minded notice other things:

1) Norway gives 10 points to Sweden and 12 points to Finland (It's worth noting that Norway’s votes were cheered, while several of the above were booed).
2) Germany gives 12 points to German-speaking neighbor Austria.
3) San Marino gives 12 points to Italy, the country that surrounds them.
4) The UK gives 12 points to Ireland.
5) Portugal gives 12 points to Spain.

Some voting points of interest:

1) As the results come in, Ireland rises up to third place at one point. I remember when Ireland cynically sent--I'm not kidding--a puppet one year and failed to make it to the finals. Jedward are nearly as nuts as that, but the response this time around has been much more positive. Real people trump puppets, I suppose.
2) Ukraine offers 8 points for Russia, but 12 for Georgia (a country Russia partially occupies). Former Ukrainian president Viktor Yushchenko made a big deal about sticking by Georgia during the Russian/Georgian conflict a few years ago.
3) Armenia gives 10 points to neighbor Georgia and 12 to Georgia-supporting Ukraine.
4) Belarus doesn’t offer their 8, 10, or 12 points to Russia, maybe a reflection of recent tensions between the two traditional allies? We wonder if the Belarusians even got to watch an uncensored version of the competition? Over there they probably think Belarus made it to the finals and won. Belarus gives their 10 points to Ukraine and 12 to Georgia.
5) Oh, and Albania gives 12 points to their neighbor and drug trafficking partner across the Adriatic, Italy.

The Eurovision glory that once was Russia's now fades.

Miscellaneous:

1) When Poland pops up to announce their country's voting results, the presenter tries to be funny by taking deliberate, interminable pauses between the scores. The joke flops and rightly outrages the audience; even host Anke looks steamed.
2) Jedward’s performance scores several top marks, including 12 points from Denmark, Sweden, and the United Kingdom.
3) Bulgaria’s 10 points to Greece and 12 for the UK make me think, “Bulgaria is a country I might not visit soon.”
4) Israel's results announcer touchingly pays lip-service to "our greatest Diva," Dana International.
5) Azerbaijan’s vote presenter, singer Safura, is va-va-VOOM!

By the time 21 of the 43 countries have voted, it is a horserace between Azerbaijan and Sweden, with Sweden looking the strongest. But Norway, Denmark, and Finland have now all voted, and so the bloc voting potential is exhausted for Sweden. Azerbaijan, on the other hand, has Turkey’s inevitable 12 points to look forward to.

The 22nd country to vote is Turkey, and—surprise!—Azerbaijan gets 12 points.

Azerbaijan also receives 12 points from Russia and Malta. San Marino gives 10 points to Azerbaijan and 12 to Italy—which of course does not help Sweden.

The Azerbaijani lead grows, and singers Ell and Nikki get increasingly excited and teary-eyed. Sometimes Azerbaijan gets only 8 points, but then the 10 and 12 points are awarded to distantly-lagging countries, which does not affect the top standings. Sometimes, close competitor Sweden gets 12 points, but in the same round Azerbaijan claims another 8 or 10, minimizing the impact. And at some foggy point—it’s not certain when while the events are unfolding; it will have to be all picked apart later—but at some point it becomes clear that Azerbaijan has accumulated an insurmountable lead. When only two countries’ votes are left it is absolutely clear even to the most mathematically-challenged that Azerbaijan has won.

Interestingly, Italy springs forward near the end (I was very wrong when I predicted they wouldn’t make the top 10, though the revisionist historian in me now calls it a pity vote in acknowledgement of their sulky 13-year absence). The consequence of Italy's surge is that Sweden’s “Popular” becomes less so, landing in third. Sand animation woman (with a singer) from Ukraine settles into fourth, Denmark’s “surprise hair” rock band is in fifth, sly old Dino is sixth for Bosnia and Herzegovina, Greece is in seventh for some incomprehensible reason, and the Jedwards are in eighth—a fine finish for Ireland. Georgia’s nu nu metal efforts lands in ninth. Defending champions Germany take tenth.

Estonia winds up next to last—poor Getter. And Switzerland’s pleasantly boring tune takes the dreaded bottom of the barrel position. The Swiss singer is cute; I’ll give her a shoulder to cry on. Just as long as she promises not to sing. "Nanananananananaannaananananaanananananananananaanananananana!"

***

So Azerbaijan won it all.

Judith led the ecstatic Ell and Nikki (Elbar and Nigar in their less-Anglicized forms) from the waiting room to the stage to sing their song once more. John Williams’s Olympic music played during their walk, linking the good-will spirit behind the Olympic games to the shared idealism of Eurovision. As the two pretty singers performed their song one more time, we realized they were hoarse, no doubt from screaming with joy for the last forty or so minutes. Funny; those voices, run-ragged by the adrenaline of the previous hour, made their performance even more touching.

The best song won! I'm tearing up again! Forgive me!

I’m really just a hack over here, writing strings of jokey observations about the competition. The real story comes from my friend Liana, who runs the excellent IANYAN Magazine, which focuses on Armenian affairs. She noted, as the closing credits scrolled past, that tweets had already begun surfacing from Armenians calling for a boycott of Eurovision 2012.

Azerbaijan and Armenia are locked in a “frozen conflict.” When the USSR collapsed, new borders were drawn, and various people wound up on opposite sides of those borders. An ethnic-Armenian group in Azerbaijan secured a territory, now known as the Nagorno Karabakh Republic (NKR). They occupy it to this day. The NKR has its own government buildings, embassies, currency, and post offices. Its border is heavily mined, and people are shot and killed around it every year. The conflict is "frozen" now, but something must give eventually.

Armenians, who have failed to gain acknowledgement from Turkey for a Turkish-perpetrated genocide against Armenians that the vast majority of historians (and a pre-Presidential Barack Obama) agree occurred, and who are also embroiled in the aforementioned dispute with Azerbaijan, are, naturally, unhappy.

But why end a Eurovision article with gloom? Most commentators, including Armenian ones, are admitting that Azerbaijan’s song was the worthy winner. A boycott is likely the worst Armenia will do (though I'm sure Eurovision's security detail must be worriedly contemplating the terrorism potential in 2012). As for Azerbaijan, any military action to take back the NKR would be poorly timed just before hosting Eurovision.

If Armenia does not boycott Eurovision 2012, Azerbaijan will have to figure out what to do regarding issuing travel visas to Armenians. Currently, Armenians are barred entry to Azerbaijan.

Yes, the next year could be very interesting indeed.

Mr. Lava Reports - Summary of Semi-Final 2

So what's on tap for tonight's Eurovision Semi-Final 2? Belarus's nationalistic dance anthem, a beloved transsexual Eurovision legend from Israel, and probably the first semi-final featuring two sets of identical twins.

Our webcast is preceded by an endlessly cycling advertisement for Schwarzkopf! The official beauty partner of Eurovision! It occurs to me about the twelfth time around that "Schwarzkopf" literally means "blackhead."

Showtime!

Yesterday's hosts, Anke, Stefan, and Judith, are back. Will controversy-averse Eurovision un-muffle them enough so that they might make one—just ONE—joke about Belarus?

We learn that the 10 advancing countries from last night's semi-final (plus the "Big Five"--more on them below) are seated together at the front of the stage, which means most of Tuesday night's winners are being rewarded for their success with a long, lonely, conversationless night, since their neighbors are unlikely to speak their language. Serbia's Edie Sedgwick-channeling Nina, who is singing her tune in Serbian, looks particularly long-faced.

After the short, introductory clip, featuring those sooper-coolo tilt-shift camera lens opening shots (see Tuesday's report, if Blogger hasn't deleted that already), Bosnia & Herzegovina take the stage. The gray-haired guy with the guitar is Dino Merlin, who has had a decades-long history in music—he was performing back when the bulk of the Balkans were called "Yugoslavia." He's probably the most senior of the competitors in the contest. Sure, I like looking at all those leggy woman singers, but after a hundred of them strutted their stuff in Semi-Final 1 it's refreshing to see him up there. He proves that with age comes experience, and he whips the crowd up with his catchy little tune. He looks like an underdog, but also a sly old dog. We love him; we want him in the final.

In 2007 Austria left Eurovision after loudly complaining about bloc voting, which is what they call it when countries vote in knee-jerk fashion for their neighbors (Eastern European ones were most harshly accused of this, though Scandinavia did this a lot too). Now that their fellow German-speaking next-door neighbors have won a Eurovision and are hosting this year's contest, guess who has returned?

True to Eurovision form, Austria offers us, yes, a leggy singer: Nadine Beiler, sporting a smart bob. It becomes obvious that the audience is punchier than they were on Tuesday night. They were enthusiastically clapping along to Dino's tune, and now they roar approval during Nadine's a cappella opening, doing a sort of, "SING IT, SISTER!" thing, if Europeans actually say stuff like that. It's a bluesy ballad, probably good enough to advance.

Europe's largest Muslim nation, The Netherlands, now take the stage. Through some bizarre warp in the time-space continuum, it appears that Evil Bryan Ferry circa 1974 has been catapulted into modern-day Düsseldorf to perform this drammatical piece of crap.

Belgium offers an a cappella group, complete with requisite beat-boxing. It's quirky, but in a conventional sort of way. You know, like how some people think they're quirky because they like Björk, but everybody listens to Björk. The group is talented, but an a cappella tune could never be A Song for Europe. However, it's a shame they probably won't get to face off against the UK's Blue on Saturday, to show how talentless that man group is by comparison.

The first of our two sets of twins take the stage tonight, and this (once again) leggy pair are called…"TWiiNS"!

:-|

They have had a number of successful singles in their native Slovakia ("Compromise" being my personal fave). But this is a bland ballad. Think back to Azerbaijan's goosebump-good "Running Scared" from Tuesday night and you realize just how plain this is by comparison.

Speaking of Azerbaijan, we join host Judith in the Tuesday-night winners section, where she interviews Ell and Nikki, the Azerbaijani darlings of Tuesday night's show. When singer Ell takes the microphone to charm the audience with his fluent German, he effectively seals his country's destiny to win this year's contest. Incidentally, their song, "Running Scared," listed under the duo's non-Anglicized names of Eldar and Nigar, has appeared on Slovakia's pop chart this week (though, loyally, not as high as TWiiNS's song).

Ukraine takes the stage with a bland tune, but who cares? They have that awesome sand-animation woman, who won "Ukraine's Got Talent" a few years back, doing the background visuals! Remember her? The video was blogged and emailed and tweeted and farted all over the place! So here she is being awesome again. Meanwhile, cute singer Mika stands in the foreground singing some sort of song. Ukraine is guaranteed a spot.

At some point, during those intro clips where they show natives from each of the competing countries exploring Germany, you expect that they are going to get stuck with a country with no German representation. What will they do, then? Actually, could that country be Belarus?

Moldova's Zdob și Zdub take the stage! They're crazy! See their tall, pointy hats? As you watch this frenzied performance, you begin to think that they need only one more thing, and that's a girl in a fairy dress riding a unicycle. Then a girl in a fairy dress on a unicycle comes riding out, and you throw your hands in the air and say, "ENOUGH!" The band has had a respectable history making pop tunes that have rocked both Moldova and Romania, but this song is a mess, with so much banging on the kettle that it renders the viewer senseless. It's the noisiest song you will ever nod off to. (Check out "Everybody in the Casa Mare" for some better Zdob și Zdub.)

We beat up Sweden's song already.

Cyprus sends out some humorless guys dressed in black, a sort of Bauhaus boy band, and they tilt at absurd angles in unison—slowly...slooooooowly!—from one side to the other, and me getting SLEEPY! Just as my double chin hits my chest, enter the screaming woman whirling a lamp like a bola over her head. This literal rude awakening is punctuated by chunky nu metal guitars borrowed from Tuesday night's Georgia performance. Perhaps I was wrong the other day when I said that Georgia's nu metal sound seems dated; Cyprus is confirming a slowly-dawning and all too terrible truth: that there might be a nu metal revival in the works--nu nu metal! Fuck me!

Host Anke recycles the postcard joke I mentioned after Semi-Final 1.

A Turkish friend told me that after her country's defeat in Semi-Final 1 a long-running debate was re-ignited over whether Turkish Eurovision groups should sing in English or in Turkish. In fact, this same general conversation is held by almost every Eurovision delegation. I think about this as I watch Bulgaria take the stage. Singer Poli Genova opts to sing in Bulgarian, and in fact her song is a perfectly catchy piece of toe-tapping pop rock with some fist-pumping anthemic flair. But will the rest of Europe support a Bulgarian-language song?

The dilemma regarding singing in English vs. one's native language is this: some feel that it is better to sing good, non-English lyrics than to subject an audience to terrible, trite English-language ones garnished by thick accents. However, if no other country's voters can understand your lyrics, of what benefit is it to sing in your own language? It's a toughie.

Up next, a Macedonian guy (singing in his own language) performs an homage to a Russian woman. "Rusinka" is rhymed with "Vodka" and "musica." There's a jumping accordion player. It is the first—but maybe not the last—song this evening to feature a performer shouting into his microphone…through a megaphone. Not sure what the fuck is going on. Scared.

Only at Eurovision could one write that the emotional highlight of the night may have been offered by a transsexual Israeli singer. Dana International, whose song "Diva" won the contest in 1998, is back, and the audience roars with respect. Unfortunately, Dana's Eurodancey tune sounds like it could actually have been written in 1998. In 2009's Moscow Eurovision contest, LGBT rights activists were beaten by police; that would not have been a good one for her to come back to. Nice to see Dana having her moment in Düsseldorf. No chance in hell of this advancing, though, and Dana's parting words, suggesting a sort of closure, seem to acknowledge this.

Then it's back to business as usual: Slovenia offers another leggy singer. She's a super cutie. She wears thigh-high boots and a short dress well. But the song is ponderous. Then it becomes interminable. And it's only been going on for a minute.

One tranquilizing performance deserves another, so Romania's Hotel FM oblige with a forgettable tune laced with platitudes about changing the world and how we need to work together to—hey, is this Finland's song from Tuesday night?

Hosts Stefan and Anke appear on tape performing a medley of Eurovision hits. The joke is that they get progressively more violent with one another as they perform. The comic punching sound effects don't work, though showing the two of them bloodying one another up and spitting out teeth at the end is a bit gutsy. Maybe the comedy will get more risqué? Are Belarus jokes coming?

Estonia takes the stage. I‘m biased; I love singer Getter Jaani, whose "Parim pave" and "Saladus" are superb. This English-language tune, on the other hand, is bloody awful. But she does a nice little magic trick with a handkerchief turning into a cane, and she is fascinating to watch as she runs around a set of shoulder-high buildings like a toy doll come to life, blinking exaggeratedly and gesticulating wildly—she turns in a real performance. Might just be puzzling enough to get through.

And now, at last, the moment we've been waiting for: Belarus!!!!!

Oh, wait—right. Before the performance comes the intro bumper clip. So are there any Belarusians in Germany? Well, turns out they found some at a hockey game! And considering that yesterday European lawmakers were demanding that the International Ice Hockey Federation ditch the 2014 championship in Belarus to protest human rights abuses and political fraud over there, the timing is a bit sad.

Well, here goes nothing! The music begins, and we think, sure, we already know that Belarus's flag-waving "I Love Belarus" is doomed. But when Anastasiya Vinnikova opens her mouth, an even greater problem becomes apparent: she is a terrible singer.

Europe watches this bizarre, nationalistic orgy through splayed fingers. Then, a strange thing occurs—an emerging sense of sympathy. Everybody hates this song, and everybody hates the Belarusian government and its autocratic president, but why take it out on this poor singer? Sure, she has assumed the mantle of Belarusian ambassador with ten times the zeal of Leni Riefenstahl, but surely she's misunderstood?

Then Anastasiya's skin splits in half, peels off, and slides slowly to the floor like two shed halves of a long leather coat. Standing in her place is none other than Belarusian President Lukashenko himself, with glowing red eyes and a flashing torrent of blue sparks cascading from his mouth. Actually, that didn't happen, but it's an effective metaphor for what we are witnessing.

With a wave and a smile, it's all over. Wow. Belarus. Am I really going to…miss you?

That should be an easy act to follow! But Latvia is up next, and they offer a pop-rock-dance-rap hybrid that predictably fails as pop, rock, dance, and rap.

Denmark's A Friend in London takes the stage, and their lead singer has evidently taken hair-styling pointers from soon-to-emerge Jedward: his locks are combed straight up into the air like a surprised cartoon character's. The song is a torturously languid piece of schmaltz. All we can think is, "Send out Jedward! Send out Jedward!"

And then it's Jedward! I mean it's Ireland, represented by Jedward!

To the uninitiated, Jedward can be described as identical twin versions of Pee Wee Herman crossed with Animaniacs and topped with two feet of hair combed straight up into the air—like that guy's from A Friend in London.

They open with one of the twins singing while his brother lies down on the stage directly in front of him, shoe to shoe, mimicking him like a living shadow. That's cool. This is followed by a great deal of jumping and running around, reminding me of their memorable interpretation of "Ghostbusters" on "The X-Factor," the show on which they were discovered.

It is stupid great. But compared to these super-caffeinated Jedwards, the Eurovision crowd looks unusually still, or are they stunned? Please, please, please vote this through! It will be the perfect antidote to just about everything we will have to endure on Saturday.

Now co-host Judith sits down with the contestants on stage, flanked by Jedward, who through their hyperactive babbling and mugging just might blow their chances. Shut up, Jedward, shut up! There's still fifteen minutes of voting left!

Hosts Anke and Stefan do a little skit to fill some of that time. "Name two things that do not go together," Anke asks Stefan. To which Stefan replies, "England and penalty shootouts. " Boos erupt throughout the arena. It's the first moment of real comedic edginess thus far! Is this a positive sign that they have been saving their best material for the finals? In any case, I'm pleased that Anke and Stefan finally got a reaction from the crowd.

Vote tabulation time. For our entertainment, breakdancing group Flying Steps from Berlin perform their "street smart" "moves" to some "Bach" on "piano." I am tired of the whole "Let's mix classical culture with urban culture and shift everybody's paradigm!" thing. Now the piano stops, which means the inevitable techno-fied Bach will soon come in, which it then does. Oh no! A ballerina enters. You know it's working. Viewers are right now saying, "I never thought of ballet in this context before!" or "I never saw breakdancing in this light before!" You chumps!

I'm too cynical to be a Eurovision dance choreographer.

Co-host Judith talks with Lena, who sits in the "Big Five" section of the audience. The "Big Five" are the five Eurovision countries that advance automatically to the finals, because they have large populations and invest more money into the competition. Yes, it's completely unfair. Lena is the singer of last year's winning entry, and she is competing once again for Germany on Saturday. Lena excitedly explains that we have just watched Eurovision. Judith says hello to the other performers seated around her. The UK's Blue, a man group, but not the Blue Man Group—I'm getting confused—anyway!—Blue are yucking it up behind Lena, while Britain watches Blue yuck it up on BBC 1 2 maybe it's on 3.

The results are in!

A brag. I picked 8 out of 10 correctly. How sad is that? My 8 correct predictions:

Austria, the leggy woman with the bob one—THROUGH!
Bosnia & Herzegovina, the with age comes experience one—THROUGH!
Denmark, the "I copied Jedward's hair" one—THROUGH!
Estonia, the singing doll one—THROUGH!
Ireland, the Jedward one—THROUGH!
Romania, the boring OK one—THROUGH!
Sweden, the most terrible thing you'll ever see but it's completely perfect for Eurovision one—THROUGH!
Ukraine, the sand animation woman with some singer in the foreground one—THROUGH!

The two I got wrong:

Macedonia, the homage to "Rusinkas" one—THROUGH!
and finally
Slovenia, the cutest of all the leggy singers but with the worst song one—THROUGH!

Farewell to my picks Bulgaria (Bulgarian-language curse) and Latvia (four failed genres in a single tune).

And farewell to Belarus's Anastasiya Vinnikova, who begins the long, lonely walk home—literally, since she cannot afford public transportation—to a country that will likely not host the 2014 international hockey championships. If you see her, can you give her a ride to the EU border?

Mr. Lava Reports - Looking Ahead to Semi-Final Two

Blogger finally restored this entry on 18 May. It was originally posted on 11 May, then deleted about 24 hours later during a catastrophic Blogger failure. I have backdated this entry to its original post date.

In light of various performance catastrophes (e.g., “Boom Boom [Chucka Chucka]),” nine Eurovision competitors were kicked off the field this Tuesday. In theory, that means nine countries worth of people are not going to tune into the finals on Saturday. After Thursday night's second and last semi-final, a further nine countries worth of people will be doing something else Saturday night. Every country that fails to watch the final is, directly or indirectly, lost revenue for the Eurovision Song Contest, but of course, with varying degrees of financial power and a wide range of populations amongst them, some countries are more profitable to “lose” than others. So, by measurement of population alone, Turkey’s departure on Tuesday was the most disastrous. On the other hand, San Marino and Malta will be little missed.

This cruelly Randian financial logic is effectively why we have “The Big Five” countries, which are given an utterly unfair free pass to the Eurovision Finals on Saturday in order to guarantee viewership and reward associated investment. The Big Five are France, Germany (which would have gotten a pass anyway this year, since the previous year’s contest winner also automatically advances), Italy (undoubtedly seeking placation after a sulky 13 year absence from the contest), Spain, and the United Kingdom. These countries contain the overwhelming majority of Europe’s people and have decent to strong economies, which translates to more viewers and more dollars that ultimately wind their way back to the competition. In other words, the demands of the free market drive greedy/sensible Eurovision to adopt an unfair, non-competitive tack when it comes to dealing with the five biggest backers of Eurovision. This sort of paradoxical logic, where capitalism smoothly blurs into Animal Farm “more equal than others” non-competitive favoritism, is the sort of stuff that drove the trust-busting Republican Theodore Roosevelt nuts.

Speaking of curtailed democracy, one can make a compelling argument that this conundrum is why the jury system was reintroduced into the contest in the last couple of years (the official reason was to counter supposed “bloc-voting,” a phenomenon Big Five countries especially harped upon where countries vote in a knee-jerk manner for their neighbors). So, a chunk of the votes are cast by the people of Europe, and another chunk come from mysterious panels of supposed music experts based in each country, which I will henceforth call “Star Chambers.”

But we can boo and hiss the jury system and the Big Five on Saturday! I just wanted to offer you a little foreshadowing. Thursday night is all about selecting another ten delegations to send to the finals, an activity which, from Eurovision’s bean-counting perspective, also amounts to learning which nine countries’ TVs will be dark on Saturday. I’ll be watching, and will offer a complete synopsis afterward. I’ll also come clean about how well my own predictions went. I'm not feeling so confident about those, considering all the aforementioned weird forces at work!