"Boobs perched on top of a washboard followed by the amazing vocal talents of a bearded lady... tis a far cry from Dana, wha?!" is what I said to no one in particular on twitter last night (I've f*ck all followers).
Things have changed - it's all homogenised sh*te with added boobs mastering the art of butter churning, and that's why we managed to claw close to the top ten the first year we sent Jedward. Then we sent them again the next year. Bit of a bang of desperation off that, especially since we were also willing to get them electrocuted. So now, for the last two years running, we've sent recvamped versions of that DiddleDervish crap which saw us limping in around last in 2007.
So why not throw two fingers up and send someone who can't sing, make it all about the spectacle, and have a bit of a laugh: Dustin the Turkey in 2008. That rebellion also saw us fail to qualify. The following year, we went for a different, more straight tack with Sinéad Mulvey and Black Daisy with something called Et Cetera (I've blanked it out too). We also failed to qualify that year...
Here are some key reasons we reckon contributed to last night's failure.
1) The Dress.
It's not attractive. Not only does Kasey blend into the background, it did NOTHING for her figure and generally made her look like she'd been half consumed by a lumpy lobster. It was designed by someone in the RTE wardrobe department and it screams as much. As for the headband, total overkill. For example, here it is with no headband. A minor difference but one worth nothing.
It's also worth noting that if she'd turned up wearing what she recently wore to The Late Late Show, that would've been a different matter entirely. WINNER.
2) The Song.
Forget anything remotely trad, mainland Europe do not care about our heritage. We seem to be repeatedly getting them confused with mainland America.
3) We're from Ireland.
Please see above. That and our only neighbour is the UK, why would anyone else vote for us?
4) The Bells and Whistles.
At the risk of repeating ourselves; as sad as it sounds, we need to stop reminding Europe at large that we're Irish. That means no added visuals of manic Irish dancers kicking up the kilts (although had they'd proffered a bit of cheeky bum at the end of the song it could've made all the difference. Crass but true), or Coors types fingering a fiddle, or anyone pretending to bang a bodhran. All we just need a thumping backing track and some boobs.
In fact, next year, we'll probably strap a pair of novelty breasts on to Jedward and have them pound a butter churn for five minutes. Hey, it worked for Poland.
Seriously though, we could learn a thing or two from 2012 winner Loreen. Why haven't we? All we need for Eurovision success is a catchy song with a killer hook that ALL of Europe can enjoy. Prepare for goosebumps.
RTE, it's time to drag yisserselves into the 21st century, 'cause yer dragging the rest of us down with you. My Saturday night's RUINED now.