Cultural Divide Conquering

Pop X-idol dancing on shice Factor Top Model. i am going native big time I am watching the local version of Rock goes to the Olympics. Popularity is measured not only by octaves but by a personality count.

I am a becoming a Saddo and by each cruel week a culturally adept saddo, I can parlez, hablar, sprechen pronounced shprekken with the best of them.... I have become genuinely interested how Marie, Pablo and Heinz are holding their own against turgid opposition to become the nation's favourite and yes, having lost a pet lamb at six years old will get you that extra phone vote especially if you cry... damn it ...only if you cry.

Each 30 second documentary lists each would-be star as sympathetically as one can between the smiles and pleading 'please call' for me, 'vote for me', because if I cannot sing well, I smile, I am a single mother, I am a good dad, I fresh faced urchin who could rival a US star but I speak your language and I come from your region. Politics have gone wild, popularity by screeching is about to begin.

Singing starts and cultural cross over is reversed. This foreign extravaganza is a sign of how English has conquered the world better than the sword or pen, as local teenagers expand lungs and largely murder some English formerly good ballad, in front of a panel of 'has been', 'might still bees' and 'never wazzes', the 'Good, the Bad and the Urgh' judges sit in judgement espousing probable good, bad and 'do not care' critiques that I fail to understand but by the general boo-ing were equivalent to epitaphs.

X factor as a langauge learning curve - an educational tool - it has some purpose in my cultural-crossing madness. And I can murmur some trivia on Monday with work colleagues with a knowing nod.

And I seem to care as a telephone duly pockets my money. A television programme has assumed a point of unnatural importance in my life...Oh je as the locals say.