eurodivision

I went out the other week to register my protest vote against UKIP. Sadly, it failed. I suppose when all the other parties are fronted by people who look increasingly like cartoon characters, it's really no surprise when people vote for the biggest cartoon of all – Nigel Farrago and his bowler-hatted crew.

Nevertheless I'm sure that, once they are in power, they will sort us out with their five-point plan:

1. Ban immigration.
2. Pull out of Europe.
3. Everything will be alright.
4. If everything is not alright, blame Gay Witchcraft.
5. If Gay Witchcraft proves more widespread than was first thought, relocate to the South of France, agreeing with the French that the UK is a shithole after all. Or it is now, anyway.

The BNP were encouraging people to vote for them in order to 'hurt politicians' – so said a leaflet that landed on my doormat along with other vital information about pizzas and tree surgery. It seems a strange reason to vote, and unlikely to alter the popular view of them as a bunch of thugs. And apparently, nobody much voted for them, which is one piece of good news. Otherwise, Europe seems to be swerving to the right. If Hitler made a comeback, he wouldn't even have to start a war – they'd welcome him in with open arms.

Luckily, Joey Essex has been seen in the company of politicians, so perhaps there will soon be a real alternative. A recent poll has suggested that plenty of people would vote for him. What are his policies? Who cares? Insiders suggest that he has a refreshing lack of them. But at least he knows, and everyone else knows, that he doesn't know. It's a start.

perv-o-vision

One of last Saturday morning's Spongebob Squarepants I'd seen before, so I put Resonance FM on. They were talking about perversion. Someone had written a book.

They aren't called perversions now, they're called paraphilias, and nobody's too worried about them unless they do 'harm'. This raised some interesting moral questions. For example – this was the example the author used – who is doing more harm, an old woman lovingly wanking off her horse, or a horse breeder electrocuting his prize stallion's prostate so as to gain his valuable sperm for selling on? You don't get this on Weekend Kitchen With Waitrose.

In the old days - as I understand it – everything was simpler. If you couldn't get it up unless an earwig was crawling over your balls you just went to Freud and he'd sort you out – or if he didn't at least he'd get a nice case history out of it. Judging by what this guy was saying, these days they shake their heads, suck their teeth and go: 'No mate.' It's the wiring, see. In the brain. Can't do nothing for you.

But then why should it matter if it isn't hurting anyone? Later that very same day, the Eurovision Song Contest was won by a bearded lady (Well, man actually. A bearded man. But in a dress.) and no-one objected. Well that isn't strictly true: some people in Belarus started a petition, claiming that Conchita Wurst was staining the purity of the Eurovision Song Contest - previously, as everyone knows, wholly untainted by even the slightest hint of sexual deviation. I think they wanted her edited out, which would have made it a curious show in the event ('And the winner is – well, that's all we've got time for.') The song, Rise Like A Phoenix, was a stirring hymn to self-empowerment, made more convincing by the back story suggested by the beard – after all, it couldn't have been easy, could it, growing up as a bearded lady in Austria? Even if he didn't.

Personally I preferred the French entry, a novelty item in which some men sang about how they wished they had moustaches. You can see why it only got deux points though – men only considering growing moustaches look a bit feeble compared to an apparent woman who has actually grown a full beard.

The Netherlands came in second with a song people apparently liked because it was 'a real song' and not a novelty. Therein lay its novelty, I suppose. I quite liked the Belarus entry in which the melancholy sentiment 'I'm tired of being your sweet cheesecake' was expressed in an oddly jaunty fashion – or perhaps that's just Belarussian men for you.

Israel fielded an entry in which a woman lamented: 'We don't beat from the same heart' - like that's a bad thing - while Ireland unhelpfully asked the listener to 'hold onto my heartbeat'. Huh? How? Neither of these got through to the final. Poland did. My notes (yes I took notes) for their entry read only: 'buxom scrubbers', and indeed the act did feature women in national costume doing household chores in a saucy manner. As for the UK, they should probably stop trying so hard and just field, say, a woman wanking off a horse.

metablogging

There was something in the news about the blood of young mice being injected into older mice, which apparently, scientists have discovered, perks them up no end. It seems surprising that science has taken so long to discover what horror films have known for years.

Talking of horror films... if I have been neglecting this blog somewhat of late it is because I have started another blog, somewhere else on the internet, called Unworldly Views. It has already received favourable comments from such internet luminaries as 'cheap auto repairs' and 'hair loss remedies'. 'Hi dear', begins the former, before going on to suggest that readers will 'definitely take fastidious know-how' from my writings. No-one's ever told me that before.

'Hair loss remedies' goes so far as to say that he – or she – has used my post to 'obtain information on the topic of my presentation topic, which I am going to deliver in university'. And I'm sure that will go very well. It's certainly heartening to discover that my brief review of A Nightmare On Elm Street Part II: Freddy's Revenge already commands that kind of respect in academic circles.

More recently, 'acid in stomach' has added his or her comments – surprisingly positive, given his or her name, though slightly opaque: 'Glance advanced to more delivered agreeable from you!', he/she exclaims, before wondering how we might 'keep up a correspondence'. With great difficulty, judging by your English.

If this is spam, at least it's building me up. Perhaps I should investigate more closely the e-mails my junk filter at work blocks, choosing instead to tantalise me with such headers as 'Why Internet was born?' and 'Amazing enlargement effect'. Wonder what the latter is selling? Magnifying glasses is my guess. After all, they are only promising an 'effect'.

Then there is the document that arrived 'for my review' ('ACTION REQUIRED') from someone known only as 'gumdrops193'. Which did rather diminish the intended air of businesslike seriousness – 'Sorry, can't talk now. Just received an important document from Gumdrops.'

Another one arrived the other day that seemed to have wearied of these subtleties and just yelled: 'PORN!'