Dare to be Different. Or Exactly the Same?

Remember teenage? That awkward time in your life when all you wanted was to fit in, to be exactly like your friends. You all laughed at the same jokes, listened to the same music and wore the same clothes. Then something happened. At some point you realize you don't need to be the same. It is ok to be different.

But no.

Eurovision Song Contest was yesterday. Who won? A transvestite. So now half the population is super siked cause, after all, a transvestite won and half the population is going WTF, cause, after all, a transvestite won. One friend of mine commented on ESC as follows

Eurovision Song Contest… Can there be anything so unnecessary? Why does the winner always have to be "different" or "obtrusive" in other ways then with a good song or a good voice. Come on, is there no other way to spend that money. With the cash that goes into the Eurovision Song Contest, you could build a children's hospital in every one of those countries or do other more reasonable projects.

Well, while we're at it we might just as well cancel Christmas. With all the money that goes into Christmas, we could build a village of hospitals. And the same goes for the Football World Cup. Brazil, cut it out! You don't need to build any more stadiums that will go to total waste after the games, FIFA World Cup is hereby CANCELLED! Because a transvestite won the Eurovision Song Contest.

The World Cup is on You, Conchita! (photo ORF/Thomas Ramstorfer)

And yes, it is the same thing. Some people love to see a pack of guys chasing a little white ball, some people love to see a man dressed as a woman sing about a phoenix. What's the big deal? We all enjoy different things, but now it's not ok anymore? What are we, teenagers again?

Another friend of mine wasn't sure what to think. On one hand, she says, this could mean that Europe has become more tolerant, which is fantastic, or it can mean that whoever has the best costume wins. It is not that long ago that Finland won the contest with a band of monsters. This is a very good point. 

You know the phrase "Hell freezes over, Finland wins the Eurovision Song Contest"? There is one with Finland winning the football World Cup. Except we already won the Eurovision Song Contest.

Let's see who has won the Eurovision Song Contest over the last years. Last year it was Emmelie de Forest. A young Danish girl. She was barefoot on stage. The year before it was Loreen. A Swedish woman who was also barefoot on stage. I think it's rather a nice change that this year the winner wore shoes and wasn't from the Nordic countries. Before these barefooted girls it was Ell & Nikki that won the competition the first time ever for Azerbaijan. They both wore shoes. In 2010 it was another young woman, Lena from Germany. What's up with all these women? Why is the winner always a woman? Thank the good gracious for Alexander Rybak who won the year before with his violin. He was different, he won the competition with the most points ever. Before that, in 2008, another male won the contest, Russian Dima Bilan, and can you believe, he too wore no shoes! Thankfully, Marija Serifovic who won the year before wore both shoes and didn't rip open her shirt as did Dima. The year before, in 2006, Hell froze over when Finland won. Lordi made history as the first and only hard rock act to win the Eurovision Song Contest. Dressed as monsters, they rocked Europe making one important statement: it's ok to be a monster. Saying that they only won because of their masks is like saying I could go on that staged dresses as a lesbian squirrel with vampire teeth singing about squirrel lesbian love and win the competition. Europe would go nuts over my lesbian, flying nuts and name me the queen of squirrels. Or nuts.

The costume of Emmelie de Forest that won last year (Picture cp24.com)

Looking back almost ten years, who has won? Three of the winners have been barefoot, most have been women and only one monster band. I can agree that Lordi was different, but besides Lordi, I wouldn't say that the other winners have had obscure costumes. In fact, I could even go as far as to say the clothes that have been worn and the individuals wearing them have been quite normal. One lesbian, but that's it. Thus, I wouldn't say that the best costume wins. I would even dare say the best performance wins.

I heard Conchita for the first time yesterday. I had not heard the song, but I had seen pictures of her. I would have put my money on it as soon as I heard it and saw the strong performance. It is not just a man dressed in a golden gown, it is a good song performed with power and feeling. Does it help to be a transvestite? Perhaps. But it doesn't make the song less good or the performance any less powerful. 

This you are ok with? (Picture from the music video Wrecking Ball)

In fact, throughout time, music and musicians have often stood out. Remember Elvis? The King of Rock 'n Roll, the best selling artist of all time. In the 50's, Look magazine wrote that Elvis is "a wild troubadour who wails rock 'n roll tunes, flails erratically at a guitar and wriggles like a peep-show dancer". Pink Floyd made an album called The Wall. Michel Jackson sung about being black or white, The Prodigy about smacking your bitch up. Killing In The Name by Rage Against the Machine, Fuck The Police by N.W.A, artists like Marilyn Manson, punk rock for god's sake. It is all about controversy, about making a statement, about standing out, about one or all of these things. Now if you think a bearded man in a glittering gown is even half as striking as God Save The Queen by Sex Pistols or Justify My Love by Madonna, then be my guest. It doesn't change the fact that the performance was stunning and the song was good.

God save the queen

The fascist regime

They made you a moron

Potential H-bomb

Another friend of mine told me it's a shame when music or sports or other cultural aspects of our society gets entangled with politics. To some extent I agree. Should Russia have had the winter Olympics? Should Belarus have the ice hockey world championships? If the answer is no, then that's as good as saying that you can't have the games because of your crimes against humanity and political actions. If the answer is yes, it's as good as saying that you can have the games despite your crimes against humanity and political actions. Either way it's a statement. 

Punk rock didn't come to be because people were happy and wanted to sing love songs. It came to be to express (political) views and beliefs. Saying that politics and culture shouldn't mix is like saying God doesn't exist, because in the end it doesn't really matter if God exists or not. People will still go to church and culture and politics will still mingle. They are the same thing as much as they are opposites.

Politics aside, naturally I couldn't go through this post without stumbling on some really offensive comments. Vanja comments

Hitler come back 

I mean, what am I even supposed to comment on that? Have we not come any further? Really, who the fuck cares if you're a man dressed as a woman or a woman dressed as a man? Are you going to let yourself be provoked by a dress? Just enjoy the song, enjoy the competition, politics and music are intertwined, face it and move on. Some sing about bubblegum, some sing about politics, some sing about sex, some sing about all of these things. Let the phoenix fly its transgender, transvestite, homosexual flight with the lesbian squirrel on its back and be done with it. Because really, the more you hate, the more these freak shows will love!

I, for one, will enjoy that flight as long as it lasts and GO! half of Europe for being open minded!

#FuckCancer

A couple of months ago I wrote a post, #FuckCoke. This is not the same. This post fucks posts like that over, tears their soul out, throws it in a ditch, pours a spoonful of contempt over it and leaves it to rot. Warning given, continue at your own risk.

I have a colleague. I hope she won't mind me writing about her, but she keeps a blog (in Swedish) of her own where she writes about her struggles, so I'm going to assume she doesn't. She inspires me, which is why I want to share some of her story to remind us of a silly little thing called life.

Some time has passed since she found out she has leukemia. It is not the first time she gets these news. She has been sick before. I was at a happiness seminar at work when my boss tells me to come upstairs. Talk about life's irony. We learn she won't be coming back for a long time. Silence. Shock. Tears.

I know she's been writing her blog, but I can't bring myself to read it. I know that when I finally do, it won't be pretty and so I put it off like a coward. Like a scared little mouse I hide from the words that I know will snap around my neck like a mousetrap, suffocating me in despair. So I keep putting it off, pretending it's not there. Until yesterday.

Who Will Comfort Toffle? by Tove Jansson

I make the utter foolish mistake of reading her blog and it's like the light of day disappears, like the earth is emptied of life, leaving only anguish. I read her words that turn to a blurry smudge while tears fill my eyes. I feel guilty for my tears. How do I dare cry when she is the one in the hospital? I want to throw the computer out the window, scream to this cruel world that breeds sickness and hate and disease. Why are people who spread so much light beaten down time and time again? I curl up under my covers, feel helpless. It's so unfair.

It's so fucking unfair!

In one of her posts she talks about a story, Who Will Comfort Toffle. Toffle is piteous little creature alone in a dark and scary world. She says she feels like Toffle. Alone in her hospital bed at night she feels the heaviness of the dark, the weight of her fear. My heart twitches and wrenches while reading her words. I feel contempt toward the world, toward the entire universe. People are literally running through life and for what?

It is like we do not realize that life is right in front of us, in every heartbeat. In every moment. Do we only understand that when our heart is threatening no longer to beat? When the moment in front of us may be the very last. Is it the irony of life, the wickedness of our existence that we only learn to appreciate life once it threatens to leave us?

The world needs Jenni!

A couple of weeks ago I see my news feed on Facebook fill up with the same picture. I go to her timeline and I'm breathless. A sunflower with the words "Fuck Cancer" written on it, and over it "The world needs Jenni". I keep scrolling down but the pictures never seem to end, forming a virtual garden of sunflowers. Her friends, family and others that feel the need to show their appreciation of her, have taken pictures of themselves wearing a "Fuck Cancer" shirt. They have all changed their profile picture to this picture and tagged her in it to fill her profile with flowers.

Someone might say that this is the power of social media, but I disagree. This is the power of people who care. Of people who still give a shit about a silly little thing called life. Of people who stop to take time to give, not wanting anything in return. Except perhaps that God step down from heaven for a while to take one look at this beautiful person and stop this twisted game.

The Virtual Garden

I keep reading her blog. I can taste her sickness while my throat thickens. But then she does what she always does. She dazzles with her positive attitude, amazes with her spirit, puts us all to shame with her incredible fire. She answers her own question. Who will comfort Toffle? Everyone, she says.

Everyone. Always. All the time.

Whatever you were doing before you started reading this, whatever you were thinking, by now I'm guessing you're thinking one of two things. One, you think I'm an emotional wreck of a person and you can't believe you wasted all this time reading this sentimental crap. If this is the case I suggest you stop reading right now, I promise you it won't get any better. On the other hand, you might be thinking that your own struggles and problems are worthless crap compared to the struggles of a woman, fighting cancer for the third time. Fighting for her life. It's not. Everything that you feel is important in your life is. However, there are a few things to consider before closing the Internet and going back to glance at the newspaper while watching The Biggest Looser and tweeting about whatever is hot right now.

First, life is so fucking precious. Every day you wake up is a victory. Everyday should be memorable. Second, why are we in such a hurry all the time? The more we hurry, the faster the end will come. Instead, slow down and enjoy the moment. Third, every single thought of hate or anger is one less thought of love or compassion, so concentrate on the good, not the bad. And last, your life is now. Every second you use on unimportant crap is one less second lived, so use every second wisely. Care. Feel. Hope. Give. Love. Dream. Laugh.

She inspires me with her words, with her positivism, with her life. Even in her struggles she inspires me. With every vibrating muscle, every inch of my body I hope for her recovery. There is nothing I can do, except hope and believe that she's gonna be OK, because the world needs people that fill it with good. That Care. That Feel. That Hope. That Gives. That Loves. That Dreams. That Laughs.

The world does need Jenni.

#FuckCancer