He's famous for getting up people's noses, and some are annoyed at his bid for Eurovision glory, but will the turkey from Ballybrack translate to a European audience, asks Brian Boyd.

Electronic voting may have many merits, but those opposed to the measure argue that it does away with a vital component of democratic expression - the right to spoil one's vote. While no precise figures are available, it is generally agreed that the puppet character Dustin the Turkey is the beneficiary of most of this country's spoilt votes in that his name is frequently pencilled in by voters disenchanted by what is officially available to them. This trend began at the 1997 presidential election when it was reported that Dustin "polled" several thousand votes, and to this day returning officers report that his name is still frequently added to the ballot paper.

This by-now familiar form of protest vote has seemingly being mirrored by those charged with drawing up the shortlist for Eurosong, the winner of which will represent Ireland at this year's Eurovision to be held in Belgrade in May. Perhaps disenchanted by what was on offer from the many entrants, the music industry-peopled panel has deemed Dustin's entry, Irlande Douze Points, to be a valid contender for the honour/poisoned chalice of participating in the irredeemably kitsch song competition.

With the public deciding (by phone vote on February 23rd) which of the six Irish entrants will go through to the Eurovision, it is highly probable that the ever-popular turkey-vulture amalgam will be winging his way to Belgrade, there to mix it with whistling farmers dressed in national costume and doe-eyed poppets earnestly pleading for "peace, love and harmony".

Dustin's mere presence in the shortlist of six has aroused considerable media interest abroad, with many commentators expressing the belief that because this country has performed rather dismally at the last few Eurovisions (after almost winning every year during the 1990s), this is a collective protest vote against a competition that these days seems to place more value on which other country you have borders and friendly relations with as opposed to the actual musical worth of the song entered.

It's all very reminiscent of a recent remark by TV host Graham Norton, who, commenting on the success of the comedy show Father Ted, noted that "to most British people it was a surreal comedy about rural Irish life, but to Irish people it was like watching a documentary". To many, the prospect of a fowl-mouthed (sorry) puppet representing the country in Eurovision reads like a discarded Father Ted script - and is perhaps more unbelievable than the prospect of Fr Ted Crilly and Fr Dougal Maguire entering Eurovision with a song called My Lovely Horse.

Dustin's selection for the shortlist provoked anger among musicians associated with the event. Shay Healy wondered "how any bunch of grown-ups could come up with this as a solution" while Phil Coulter opined that obviously Eurovision "was going down the tubes".

IT IS UNDOUBTEDLY a radical move, similar to one which the British threatened to pull off last year when it was suggested that either Morrissey or Jarvis Cocker should represent the country at Eurovision. In the end, both singers were "unavailable" and the organisers went for an orthodox entrant instead. One would have wondered why, if Ireland was to get radical on its Eurovision entrant, acts such as Ronnie Drew or Gavin Friday weren't in contention. Tactically, Dustin's inclusion is both clever and stupid. Clever because it has already generated a ton of publicity (and profile does help when it comes to the public phone vote on Eurovision night) and also because the move seems to chime with recent developments in Eurovision where the novelty act now prospers. Two years ago the contest was won by Lordi, a pantomime heavy rock band from Finland. If nothing else, Dustin's inclusion will get people talking about something other than Ireland's alarming slump in form over the last few years. The writer of Ireland's entry last year, John Waters, picks up on this when he says "It's a fun and kitsch competition - if Dustin wins it's a victory and if he comes last it's a victory".

Certainly, Dustin's rather unprepossessing appearance (that of a real turkey who has overdosed on plastic surgery) will distinguish him from all the other shiny, happy contestants on the night, and if the Europe-wide voting public decide to act as many voters in this country have done over the past few years, Dustin could well figure in the final shake-up.

What is very stupid about Dustin's inclusion is that his humour, and his notoriety, mean nothing outside this country. How will Serbian, Swedish and Spanish viewers even begin to decipher his musical message? What may seem a hilarious act in this country could well draw a blank among voters - and there are plenty of voters who still value a "nice song" over comedic appeal. However, it is believed that Dustin has gone out of his way to broaden his lyrical range on Irlande Douze Points. Although the song can't be publicly aired before the Eurosong contest, the lyrics will include references to Bono, Terry Wogan and Riverdance - all familiar names in Eurovision land.

What has yet to be pointed out is that, unlike the other five entrants he will be up against in the National Song Contest, Dustin has already sold hundreds of thousands of records as a musical act. Albums such as Faith Of Our Feathers and Bling When You're Minging have regularly outstripped acts such as Oasis and Celine Dion in the Irish charts, and he has dueted with Bob Geldof and Chris de Burgh among others. His forays into the musical world come from the time when he used to warble tunelessly on the RTÉ children's show The Den.

HE ARRIVED IN The Den in the early 1990s in the form of a prize that the then-resident puppet characters, Zig and Zag, had won in a golf tournament. Similar to Zig and Zag, he had the knack of telling jokes that appealed both to adults and children. Dustin is a builder by profession, although of the cowboy variety, and is a proud resident of Ballybrack in south Co Dublin. In many ways, he is a contemporary version of the professional Dub - someone who views all those who live anywhere beyond Lucan as "culchies" and who has a very earthy and irreverent turn of phrase.

Somewhat overshadowed in the early days, his big break came when Zig and Zag moved to London to work on Channel 4's Big Breakfast show. He fleshed out, so to speak, his character and established himself as a loveably rude character. If a real person were to say what Dustin says, The Den would be taken off the air, but somehow his puppet persona gives him a lot more latitude. What always distinguished Dustin is that, in the world of unctuous children's television presenters, he would gleefully and wickedly insult the viewing audience.

If Dustin does make it to Eurovision, there will undoubtedly be attempts to "unmask" him. Little is known about the person who plays Dustin - and he prefers to keep it that way. It is known that in real life he is a brother to one of the people who play Zig and Zag/Podge and Rodge. Sources say that Dustin keeps his identity private for two reasons. First, he couldn't be bothered with publicity and has never invited it. Second, he feels that a large part of the appeal of the Dustin character lies in him remaining anonymous - and something of the magic would disappear if people could pinpoint a thirtysomething bloke as "Dustin".

Zig, Zag, Podge, Rodge and Dustin all prefer to keep well away from whatever limelight is attached to their characters. The only interviews they ever do are over the phone and are always done in character. Following the success of The Podge and Rodge Show, some tabloid newspapers attempted to doorstep the two people who play Podge and Rodge, but there seems to be little interest among the public as to who they really are. It is not as if there is some big secret behind Dustin's identity - there would just seem to be little to be gained from "exposing" the person who plays him. People who have worked with Dustin describe the man who plays him as "likeable, clever and very unstarry".

Back in character, Dustin says it is patriotism and socio-economic concerns that have pushed him towards Eurovision. "There is a direct link between the recent downturn in the economy and our poor showing in the Eurovision in the last number of years," he says. "I'm doing this for Ireland."

SUCH HIS IS (very well-hidden) sensitivity to the concerns of his fellow citizens, that he actually considering removing himself from the shortlist after a heated debate about his inclusion on RTÉ radio's Liveline. Musician Frank McNamara said on the show that by selecting Dustin, RTÉ were "giving two fingers" to the country's songwriters and that the whole affair was "absolutely disgraceful".

"For nearly a full second I was considering pulling out," says Dustin, who, in a gesture that is truly in keeping with the Eurovision spirit, has now extended "the wing of friendship" to McNamara.

Whatever one's feelings, though, about Dustin's suitability for the Eurovision, there's no denying that a puppet "singing" about Bono and Riverdance is not that remarkable in the context of previous Eurovision songs such as "La-La-La", "A-Ba-Ni-Bi" and "Diggi-Loo Diggi-Ley". For a competition that has only once thrown up a good band (Abba) in its 51-year history, it has nevertheless provided a few memorable moments over the years (whether intentional or not), but the current system of voting on geographical and historical lines has rendered the whole event something of a sham.

With that in mind, and to clumsily paraphrase three famous Eurovision songs: Congratulations to the Puppet Without a String for putting a bit of Boom Bang-A-Bang back into Eurovision.

TheDustinFile

Who is he?

Ireland's, and perhaps now Europe's, most famous turkey

Why is he in the news?

On February 23rd, Dustin bids to become the first-ever puppet to represent a country at the Eurovision Song Contest.

Look out for:

Headlines about feathers being ruffled, any play on fowl/foul and the obligatory joke about whether his backing band will be The Cranberries

Can he win?

Leaked lyrics from Dustin's song include: "Shake your feathers and pop your beak, shake it to the west and to the east, wave Euro-hands and Euro-feet, wave them in the air to the turkey beat." By Eurovision standards, this qualifies him as a genius.

What next?

Podge and Rodge enter the Miss Ireland heats, cuing up jokes about them "entering Miss World"