An open letter to the Australian people: crown me as your Kitsch King

Friends, Australians, expatriates. Lend me your ears, and your eyes, though beware the smoke machine. I volunteer my services in securing our nation’s forthcoming greatest victory. I do this not for the platitudes, great though it may be, but out of a simple, deep-rooted patriotism.

I ask that you give me the privilege of being Australia’s debut champion in this year’s Eurovision Song Contest. This honour, bestowed on this fair southern land despite all arguments of logic, geography or a century of history, is our chance to grasp a rare kind of glory; one in which all that glitters is, indeed, gold.

Friends, I can help us gain that glory and bring this esteemed competition to Canberra for 2016. My voice cannot sing and is deaf in both pitch and tone, but that has not stopped past competitors. What this country needs is a unique visual feast, and it so happens that I am skilled in the great dance of our people. Behold! For I am arguably the finest performer of this physical ritual, aside from its creator: Mr Peter Garrett of Sydney.

Assuming the master declines to represent our land at this contest of contests, I plead that you select his natural apprentice. For I have spread the gospel of his dance; from suburban dinner parties to the karaoke bars of New York City.  Indeed, I vanquished a foe during the Great Oxford Street Dance Off of September, 2012. At least, I did according to what I can remember of that liquor-lathered evening.

So I humbly beseech thee, let me dance out the dreams of 23 million souls upon the Vienna stage. And I ask also that you comb the land for backup dancers, others skilled with the Gift of the Garrett. Sequins, plush marsupials, fireworks and artificial wind to accompany me would not go astray also.

Of course, I understand that you may not choose me to carry this heavy but beautiful burden upon my padded shoulders. But if not, I ask that I be the messenger who greets the distant continent with promises of points for the enemy’s teams. A simple smile and a “g’day Europe” with a harbour background behind me is within my range of skills.

Choose me, and we will taste victory in so short a span of competition! Alternatively, scribble your name to this petition so that my next choice, TISM, may take the mantle.

Glamorously yours,

Stephen Jeffery

P.S. I have a shirt decorated with swordfish if that helps my case. Please hire me.

P.P.S. Pls.