American Idol: Dear God, No

How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways.

1. Let me throw out a little math here. Or it could be science, I don't know.
At any rate:
The outrageousness of a person's outfit/costume is inversely proportionate to the amount of talent he/she has. Therefore, if a person has dressed himself up like Apollo Creed, down to the supersized boxing gloves, that person emits a sound that is most like the sound a souffle makes when it de-poufs.

[Also, that guy said he was "going to knock it out like Apollo Creed." I sat on my couch, hoping with all my heart, that he would be pummeled by a Russian robot. Is that wrong?]

2. A sob story does not equal talent. (More with the math!)
Crack babies, immigration, unsupportive parents ... at the risk of sounding completely insensitive: waah waah waah. I am not interested in people's backgrounds; I am interested in people's singing abilities, or lack thereof. On the one hand, I like to listen to a good vocal performance, and on the other hand, I like to feel superior to the non-musical folks.

It's a singing competition, not a fiction workshop. I say "fiction" because, in my heart of hearts, I believe that some of these people have studied in the James Frey School of Biography Enhancement.

American Idol Sob Story
I lived a nomadic lifestyle when I was younger, because my dad kept changing jobs. I had to work hard to do well at school, and my sister and I were latch-key kids during our formative years. I have faced discrimination every day of my life. But somehow I have managed to rise above all of these things, and today I want to sing One Moment in Time, and I would like to dedicate it to Maria, my blind, crippled friend who has been with me for lo these thirty-one years.

Mei Flower Truth Extractor
My dad was in the Navy and we got transferred a lot. My parents made me work hard at school but it was pretty easy for me. My mom went back to work when I was eleven. I am a left-handed person living in a right-handed world. Maria is my teddy bear; my mom pulled her eyes out when I was a baby (so I wouldn't) and the seams on her knees are ripped.

See how that works? Of course, if I tried this on the show, I would then be obliged to sound as though a bee stung my larynx.

3. Loud does not equal good.
I cannot handle people who yell songs. It makes me want to fold my ears down into themselves.

4. Why why WHY is Ryan Seacrest there? He serves no useful purpose, and he is annoying besides. Though I will say that I laughed out loud when that Colombian girl said, "Do you like Latina girls?" and he said, "Yes," and then looked up like he was waiting for the lightning to strike. And then when she said, "You're short, I'm short," and he said, "Well, I'm AVERAGE," as though 5'3" is an average height for a man. Come on.

5. Paula's face looks weird.

Every season, I am bound and determined that I am not going to watch again. And then I am sucked into this vortex of pain and I cannot escape.

I will say this, though: as much as I hate American Idol, there is no one--NO ONE--who hates it more than Simon Cowell does. And maybe that's why I watch, because Simon and I, we suffer together. We roll our eyes and make nasty comments and, in general, hold ourselves above such crap. The only difference is, one of is a multibajillionaire, and one of us is just building up interest in the Bitter Bank.

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