“When a man is tired of Eurovision, he is tired of life. More, he is a boring guff, and I have no time for him.”
Samuel Johnson died before he got the chance to witness the glorious freak show that is the Eurovision Song Contest, and whether that’s to his benefit or detriment depends on your response to the following piece of research.
A YouGov poll surveyed 1,650 British adults, both Leave and Remain voters, asking the question: if there was a referendum on Britain’s membership of the Eurovision Song Contest, how would you vote?
The results showed that 56% of those surveyed would vote to leave Eurovision, with Leave voters the most likely to want out of the annual song contest.
Not content with exiting the European Union, ending freedom of movement and access to the single market, apparently we’re also keen to duck out of the only other institution that regularly brings our continent together besides football and war.
Alright, we get it, you don’t like Europe, but if you don’t like Eurovision then you obviously don’t like fun either.
On British membership of the Eurovision Song Contest:
Remain: 44%
Leave: 56%(via @YouGov / 08 – 09 May)
— Britain Elects (@BritainElects) May 12, 2017
Eurovision has never been good, but it’s never been about being good, so if your argument for leaving is that “it’s shit” or something equally scholarly, then like a dog with its jaws clamped around a cedar tree, you’ve got the wrong end of the stick, Fido.
No, Eurovision is about celebrating sequinned weirdos whose only other chance of getting on telly would be the 10 o’clock news. It’s about the sassy zingers from Graham Norton and the late-great Sir Terry Wogan before him. It’s about cringing at the stilted interactions between the presenters and the awful jokes that barely made it through Google Translate.
In short, it’s about getting friends round, opening up a few bottles and having a good laugh at the most expensive karaoke-cum-fancy dress contest in the world.
Our national pride hangs in the balance, too. It’s hanging inches from the ground, yes, but it’s hanging nonetheless.
You’ve got to half-heartedly cheer on the UK entry as they dangle over the precipice, staring into the void of nul points. Nothing brings the country together more than when the rest of Europe gangs up on us in the voting; this year there’s a very good chance we’ll actually end up with minus points, and it will be glorious.
If you watched the 2016 Eurovision, you’ll have noticed there something different about last year’s show: it was actually not bad.
They’ve polished it up, stopped entering novelty songs (mostly, there’ll always be room for lederhosen and ice-skating violinists) and brought in a kind of halftime show: Justin Timberlake performed and gave the whole thing a sheen of semi-professionalism.
Even the country-by-country announcement of points has been sharpened up – now it only takes six hours instead of nine.
Eurovision doesn’t need defending, though. Any contest that has the good sense to crown four dudes in monster make-up singing ‘Hard Rock Hallelujah’ winner is beyond reproach. The result of this poll says more about the people voting than Eurovision itself.
Honestly, how much of a dullard do you have to be to actively want Britain to pull out of Eurovision? Does the idea of spending a couple of hours watching people sing songs, dance around and make endearingly shit international banter make your stomach churn that much? You should see a doctor, it sounds unpleasant.
Unless there’s some kind of familial hostage situation going on in your living room, no one’s forcing you to watch it, so why don’t you piss off down to the shed and get your knickers out of their perennial twist while everyone else has a good time.
