Everyone who counts knows that I love the Eurovision Song Contest, more for what it represents than anything else. This year's hot contender is the totally awful DJ Bobo, whose Vampires Are Alive is drawing controversy and not just from people who have watched the video with the same expression you have when you realise what's been festering under the plastic bag in the kitchen bin.
In his homeland of Switzerland, Bobo has been criticised for promoting "satanism and the occult" with the imagery and lyrics of the video. 50,000 people signed a petition to that effect, though it's unclear how many were just using it to get the guy off-air. Would you want him representing your country? It's obvious Bobo is just trying to ride the coat-tails of last year's winners LORDI from Finland. But would it blow your mind if I mentioned that Bobo is closer to "Lordi" than you realise? That he is actually the Artist Formerly Known as Jordy?
He's not. But he's certainly proof that evil walks amongst us (when we're walking around Switzerland, at least).
Here's a fantastic and completely inexplicable video I blatantly stole from Monkeys for Helping.
I really don't know what to add except that it might well be the best thing ever put on YouTube except for everything else that's rad.
What really gets me isn't the bizarre framing narrative, the "it was all a queer dream" ending or the incredibly great 70s camp of the slow-mo retro robo dance-man's fringed cowboy pants.
It's that as I was watching this in stunned awe, I couldn't help but be taken back to yesterday, when I watched someone dressed almost identically belt out a late 70s pop tune on an old TV show. It would be worth posting on its own, but the fact that it's TV's McGuyver in those high white pants and sailor-style red chesty tee makes it all the better.
Tell me he doesn't open the clip with an expression of sudden realisation as to what he's wearing. Tell me it doesn't get better when we actually get to see what he's wearing. Tell me the last second's revelation of an awesome white wristband doesn't seal the deal. And then tell me I haven't based my hairstyle on some half-remembered infantile viewing of this clip which permanently imprinted on my brain.
And finally, to wash all of this down, a film starring dogs dressed as people. If the bit where they're assessing the sweet looks of the leading ladies doesn't have you laughing like an old cur, there's something wrong wit' ya. Oh, and the leading lady they do choose sure is a real swell dame, too.
Now I'm off to see everything in the Festival and maybe occasionally writing about it.