The Twaddle: How Low Can You Go?

With my eighteenth birthday getting closer and closer, I am faced with several realities that pretty much qualify me for adulthood regardless of what my parents or contemporaries think. I can drink alcohol legally. I can get an actually decent credit card. I qualify for a full wage with benefits. I can legally own a gun. Oh, yeah, and that other thing that no-one cares about. Erm... what is it? ... bear with me here. Ah! Of course! Voting!

Yeah, so I can vote. Big deal. Living in the West, it's sometimes hard to find true democracy, or at least a decent representation of the full spectrum of political views. The Labour Party? Centrist. The Conservatives? Awful. The Lib Dems? (Sadly) Considered to be the third party – a pointless entity that no-one votes for. The Green Party? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHEM.

Before I get any deeper, I'm not addressing politics in general – some other time, maybe. Despite this, I must admit that I find it grimly ironic that people don't see voting as useful, especially considering that politics pretty much creeps into every aspect of our socio-economic structure. This was particularly evident in an event on Saturday the 15th of May – The Eurovision Song Contest.

“-----------------------------

------------
Just maybe I'm crazy,
The world spins round and round and round,
Shi-di-ri-di-duy, shi-di-ri-di-da-na,
Shi-di-ri-di-duy, shi-di-ri-di-da-na,
I want you to want me as I dance,
Round and round and round
Shi-di-ri-di-duy, shi-di-ri-di-da-na,
Shi-di-ri-di-duy, shi-di-ri-di-da-na,
Forever and ever go, go, go
Wild dancers!
-----------------------------------------”

Right. Let me get this straight. I hate pop music. Or camp music. Or camp pop music. Still, I watch it. “Why?!”, you may currently be shouting at the monitor. Well, one of two reasons. Firstly, the wonderful Terry Wogan's cynical digs at the contest from BBC Centre, mocking the Norwegian entry or reminiscing about Abba's glory days in his cheeky Irish ways. Secondly, and undoubtedly the funnier, the predictability of some of the votes. This is what I feel led to the eventual victory by Ukraine, with the “wonderful” and “mesmerising” performance by Ruslana Lyzichko with the upbeat party “hit”, Wild Dancers.

This of course, is based on political bias and prejudice. Let me give you an idea of the way the voting went:

* Andorra gave 12 points to Spain.
* Portugal gave 12 points to Spain.

* Denmark gave 12 points to Sweden.
* Finland gave 12 points to Sweden.
* Norway gave 12 points to Sweden.

* Bosnia and Herzegovina gave 12 points to Serbia and Montenegro.
* Croatia gave 12 points to Serbia and Montenegro.
* Slovenia gave 12 points to Serbia and Montenegro.

* Malta gave 12 points to Greece.
* Cyprus gave 12 points to Greece.
* Albania gave 12 points to Greece.

Oops! Let's not forget the Balkan cheating that led to victory...

* Russia gave 12 points to Ukraine.
* Latvia gave 12 points to Ukraine.
* Estonia gave 12 points to Ukraine.
* Lithuania gave 12 points to Ukraine.
* Poland gave 12 points to Ukraine.

“-----------------------------------------
Day-na-day-na wanna be loved
Day-na gonna take my wild chances
Day-na-day-na freedom above
Day-na-da-na-da I'm wild and dancing, hey!
-----------------------------------------”
[“Wild Dancers” by Ruslana Lyzichko]

No doubt if Belarus also attended, they'd have had another 12. It's ridiculous, you see. France and Germany's usual strong support has waned in the last two years, although I wouldn't blame them for the “Jemini Incident” of 2003. Of course, this boils down to the war with Iraq. What about Spain? Gibraltar, of course. Denmark? 3-0. It's ridiculous.

I feel that, on behalf of common decency, Eurovision should be stopped. It's simply dressing up continental politics with musicians in a league table... a league table we're currently 16th in. This means that we're one of the countries least likely to get support during an invasion. Ukraine, of course, has its Soviet allies, although to be fair, no-one really wants Ukraine anyway, Chernobyl and all.

This fundamentally supports my view on voting in this country: no wonder no-one wants to... it'll just boil down to a hoedown in the House of Commons.

I bet David Blunkett does a mean breakdance, though.

The Twaddle: The RacCommies

Face it: everyone loves kids' shows at one point or another. I've lived through a somewhat “golden era” of children's TV. I've witnessed Andi Peters step out of the BBC “Broom Cupboard” in the early 90s, swapping it for the fresh, plush studios of the new CBBC. I've watched with awe as some random woman was able to reproduce something unfailingly cool out of 3 boxes of junk on Bitsa. Hell, I was even lucky enough to have seen Pat Sharp, his ridiculous mullet and the ridiculous twins, Melanie and Martina, drag unsuspecting paired teams onto the Fun House Grand Prix... and this was all in the name of entertainment.

However, childhood innocence is usually crushed by the mid-to-late teens. And so, after the rest of my life had been corrupted in some way or another – obviously destroying my idealistic world view – I retired to watch a video with big flashy cars on. After seeing the big flashy cars become smaller, dented tricycles after many fun crashes and so on, I let the tape roll on to see what else was on.

I almost fell out of my seat in shock.

The familiar sound of “YahOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-yipe!” filled the room. The once pitch-black living space of mine flickered red, then green, then blue, then red. A childhood hero of mine had just jumped off the top of a giant redwood and flown across the screen in his hang glider, before promptly crashing into the side of his woodland home. Of course, his friends were always there for him, and they chortled, picked the silly boy up and dusted him down. Except this was no ordinary “silly boy”.

This was Bert Raccoon.

I watched with glee as his harebrained schemes got him into more trouble with the likes of Bear, Cyril Sneer and Dan the Ranger. I smiled as he shared his possessions with everyone. I pondered as he put on that distinctive red and gold jumper of his.

I gasped in horror – this was Communist propaganda!

I switched it off hurriedly before I realised that the rest of my idealistic world had just come crashing down around me. Could this be true, that the only thing that kept me sane was not made for the purpose of entertaining children, instead indoctrinating them from a time when they would not know any better? Was The Raccoons simply a Comintern ploy to turn our youth into the Red Army? Was Ralph Raccoon Stalin?!

And so I decided, for the safety of minors across the world, to note down the reasons why The Raccoons is not the fun and frolics it pretends it is, in fact being a dirty Commie lie.

-------------------------------------------

The interesting colour scheme
Bert Raccoon was famous for his red and gold jumper. Any relevance? Oh, I think there is – compare that jumper to, say, the flags of the Communist states of post-war China and the Soviet Union between 1917 and 1991 and you'll realise he's pretty much plastered with the national palette of both major Communist countries.

The outfit's letter “B”
B for Bert? Highly unlikely. I'd say more B for Bolshevik Commie scum.

The usual morals of the story
There's no living for personal gain in the forest woodlands – whatever Bert finds in the forest is never something he'll, say, eat himself, or sell for material gain to fund his night out in a local strip bar. No! He'll take it home to share with Ralph and Melissa and every other significant member of the proletaria in his nearby area.

Demonisation of Capitalism
If I was Cyril Sneer, I probably wouldn't be so greedy. However, I would be proud of my millions of dollars earned through consistently diligent work. Despite this, Cyril Sneer is demonised as the basis of all moral wrong-doings, and is constantly plagued by the attempted overthrows of his hard-earned power.

Devalued currency
Alongside the anti-Capitalist regime the Communist Raccoons try to impose, there are obvious anti-currency attitudes. They are never tempted by money, instead doing everything for the good of their forest and, presumably, Communist nation.

Agrarian revolution
With the unreliance on currency, the Commie Raccoons instead decide to reap the benefits of the land and grow their own produce. Although they'll stay poor and they are not happy, the strong community spirit of the Communist regime is enough to keep them going.

Newspaper-based Communist propaganda

The press gang including Melissa, Bert and Ralph make sure the rest of the forest is furtherly indoctrinated with meaningless Communist propaganda by means of their newspaper, of which the ringleader (Ralph) becomes particularly Stalinist, a token figurehead leader.

Bert's favourite pastime #1
Bert loves his hang glider, and it is unmistakeable why – aerial reconaissance. From here he can use his flash bulb camera to identify holes in perimeter walls around Sneer's mansion and, failing that there are any breaches in the wall, dropping bombs on them from low altitude.

Bert's favourite pastime #2
If he's not taking photos of possible threats to the Motherland in his bomber, Bert loves to play detective. Always wearing a trilby hat and a grey trench coat, he assumes the stereotypical role of the KGB agent, infiltrating areas and getting what he needs.

Dirty, dirty commies.

What can I say? The odds are stacked heavily against a Liberal Woodland Government ever getting into power, never mind the Tories. But when you are watching programmes in the future, watch out – there may be more to it than meets the eye. Andi Peters could have merely been expressing the benefits of Expansionism by a move to a physically bigger area. The antics of Bitsa could have simply brainwashed your children into understanding the benefits of recycling. Even Pat Sharp, the legendary mullet, could have been using the Fun House Grand Prix as an illegal betting ring – we just don't know. All I'm saying is never trust children's television.