The second Eurovision semi-finals kick off in less than an hour, by which time I was hoping to have posted another set of overviews and predictions from Janis Stirna, our Eurovision correspondent. Unfortunately, Janis went dark after it was announced on Tuesday that Latvia DIDN’T make it to the finals. (Which, is bullshit, although Anmary & Co. did look like a bunch of Eastern European cougars out on the prowl.) After a bit of begging—the things I’ll do for this website—I managed to get Janis to give us one last, final last send off post. Goodbye Janis, we hardly knew ye!
Hello my friends.
I am unfortunate very very sorrowful this day. Sorrowful and maybe a little with a headachings. If You have been watching Eurovision songgames semi-final 1 yesterday, You maybe are knowing that my motherland Latvia has not been making it to Eurovision songgames finals for to be on Saturday.
No, I am not very sorrowful. I am very OUTRAGE. Why for is motherlands like Albania with screaming of the chalk and also even Russian matryoshka Omas are making it to finals, but Latvia with good voice sounds and shiny dresses is not making it anywhere? EMBARRASSMENT AND DISHONOR! Yes yes I am for to know and understand Eurovision songgames is not complete seriousness, but I am not able but to help feeling upset at results of making votings. If You, my friends, could see my face, it is a face of frowning. Frowning and outrage. At least is some satisfying in knowledge that woki popo boys of Austria and San Marino with crazy eyes woman are also not for to perform in finals. That is what you are getting for being fail and horrid.
AND WHY FOR IS LATVIA NO MORE IN SONGGAMES! Outrage! Again! Oh, and if peoples of Europe are thinking Latvia is no good for Eurovision songgames, I will show just how good other motherland songs will also not be, oh yes, permit me to be showing You what semi-finals 2 results should be making because it is clear now anyone can be expert in making of big decisions for things such like songgames.
Serbia: I am sleeping already from piano. NO-VOTE.
FYR Macedonia: Is Cher without Sonny. NO-VOTE.
Netherlands: Too many birds have been being killed for fancy hats. NO-VOTE.
Malta: Is like Ross from show “Friends” but is having so few friends in video. Friends who did not make voting for Latvia. NO-VOTE.
Belarus: I am not needing to explain why for NO-VOTE.
Portugal: Oh look I am sleeping once more. NO-VOTE.
Ukraine: Should probably be winning Eurovision songgames 2012. But anyway NO-VOTE.
Bulgaria: Eurovision is no place for musical of high schools. NO-VOTE.
Slovenia: Overly many things on heads. NO-VOTE.
Croatia: Is only enough spaces in earth for one Celine Dion. NO-VOTE.
Sweden: Where for is her face and eyes and why for all the moving? NO-VOTE.
Georgia: Why for? No really, WHY FOR. NO-VOTE.
Turkey: Little boy is needing all instruments in Turkey for to make one song. Overachieve. NO-VOTE.
Estonia: Thank You for the pleasantries nap again. NO-VOTE.
Slovakia: What for in the naming of every thing what is holy. ALL NO-VOTES ALL TIMES.
Norway: Is preparation for culttimes? Will we be having for to drink juices? NO-VOTE.
Bosnia-Herzegovina: Why for is piano in metallurgy shop? NO-VOTE.
Lithuania: Oh good, Lithuania has been finding Michael Jackson replacer. What for is world coming to. NO-VOTE.
Eurovision songgames has been breaking my spirits and soul. And remainder of world is still not understanding Europe. Are we always still wondering why?
Thank You for listening, friends. I will perhaps be going and crying some time now.
César Aira dishes up an imaginative parable on how identity shapes our sense of belonging with Dinner, his latest release in English. Aira’s narrator (who, appropriately, remains nameless) is a self-pitying, bitter man—in his late fifties, living again with. . .
Originally published in French in 2007, We’re Not Here to Disappear (On n’est pas là pour disparaître) won the Prix Wepler-Fondation La Poste and the Prix Pierre Simon Ethique et Réflexion. The work has been recently translated by Béatrice Mousli. . .
Even though the latest from Jean Echenoz is only a thin volume containing seven of what he calls “little literary objects,” it is packed with surprises. In these pieces, things happen below the surface, sometimes both literally and figuratively. As. . .
Who is this woman? This is the question that opens Xiao Bai’s French Concession, a novel of colonial-era Shanghai’s spies and revolutionaries, police and smugglers, who scoot between doorways, walk nonchalantly down avenues, smoke cigars in police bureaus, and lounge. . .
For the past 140 years, Anna Karenina has been loved by millions of readers all over the world. It’s easy to see why: the novel’s two main plots revolve around characters who are just trying to find happiness through love.. . .
Linn Ullmann’s The Cold Song, her fifth novel, is built much like the house about which its story orbits: Mailund, a stately white mansion set in the Norwegian countryside a few hours drive from Oslo. The house, nestled into the. . .
Karel Schoeman’s Afrikaans novel, This Life, translated by Else Silke, falls into a genre maybe only noticed by the type of reader who tends toward Wittgenstein-type family resemblances. The essential resemblance is an elderly narrator, usually alone—or with one other. . .
In Joris-Karl Hyusmans’s most popular novel, À rebours (Against Nature or Against the Grain, depending on the which translated edition you’re reading), there is a famous scene where the protagonist, the decadent Jean des Esseintes, starts setting gemstones on the. . .
There are books that can only wisely be recommended to specific types of readers, where it is easy to know who the respective book won’t appeal to, and Kristiina Ehin’s Walker on Water is one these. What makes this neither. . .
Imagine the most baroque excesses of Goethe, Shakespeare, and Poe, blended together and poured into a single book: That is The Nightwatches of Bonaventura. Ophelia and Hamlet fall in love in a madhouse, suicidal young men deliver mournful and heartfelt. . .