Buck Valor here, reporting from the intersection of High Art and Low Stakes. Today’s episode of 'Performing Conscience' brings us to Riga, where the association 'Jews for Peace' is politely asking Latvijas Sabiedriskais Medijs—that’s LSM for those of us who don’t speak Bureaucratic Latvian—to please stop the music. Specifically, the Israeli music.

Because, as we all know, nothing halts a multi-generational, high-intensity urban conflict quite like being denied three minutes of glittery stage time in a Swedish arena. It’s the ultimate diplomatic sanction: the loss of the '12 points' from the Latvian jury.

Let’s look at the theater of it all. We have a public broadcaster trying to hide behind the 'non-political' veneer of the European Broadcasting Union, a group whose primary function is ensuring that the strobe lights don’t fail during a Serbian power ballad. On the other side, we have activists who genuinely believe that Eurovision—an event where people dressed as interstellar neon wolves compete for a glass trophy—is the appropriate leverage point for international law.

The irony is thick enough to choke a back-up dancer. Eurovision has spent decades pretending it isn’t a political cage match, even as countries trade votes like Cold War spies. Now, LSM is being asked to take a moral stand. But let’s be real: a broadcaster’s 'moral stand' is usually just a calculation of which demographic is more likely to change the channel.

If Latvia pulls out, or demands Israel be booted, what happens? Does the shelling stop? Do the hostages come home? No. But some mid-level executive at a media house gets to feel a brief, warm glow of 'doing something' before returning to the more pressing business of selling ad slots for dish detergent.

We’ve reached a point where we treat the song contest like the UN Security Council, mostly because the actual Security Council is about as effective as a Eurovision judge from the 1970s. So, keep an eye on the headlines. We’re waiting to see if LSM will choose the sequins or the statement. Personally, I’m betting on whichever option keeps the PR department from having to answer the phones for a week. Stay cynical, folks.