American Idol - may the pigeons bless your statue

I catch myself watching that show with some rather silly fascination.

They do the initial screening process at huge stadiums. With thousands of wannabes. Yet they send in a LARGE number of clowns for the second stage of auditions. The only conceivable reason being to caricature, ridicule and generally entertain the public, who derive some morbid pleasure from watching people making fools out of themselves.

But, I swear, some are absolute MORONS. It's a wonder they find their way out the front door in the morning. And talk about disillusioned. "I'm gonna be the next American Idol!!!". Yeah right. That would be the day I have a 100 million dollars in my account and permanent, free, all-entry access to the Playboy mansion. Some of them are are head-slappingly bad. Yeah yeah, I know it's all a show - Randy Jackson is the intermediate, Paula Abdul softens the blows and Simon is there just so viewers are on their edge of their seats to see if he can get any ruder. And it IS fun, sometimes, to watch these folks truly believe they are IT and that the judges have made a terrible mistake by rejecting them.

There was this really good looking girl. Two things struck me about her - she was just 17, and she already had a 8-month old son! Of course, my first thoughts went out to the guy who shagged her (she mustve been 15/16 when she got pregnant?). But she actually believed that the judges, and eventually America, would see her as an idol! I mean, how stupid do you have to be to believe that?? And she had her mother handling the baby and consoling her...man...only in America..*slaps forehead*. By the way, she couldn't sing either.

Another one came in a miniskirt, shook her thingie a bit and sang a little. The judges told her that just shakin' it with a below average voice is not good enough. She comes out and talks to the camera saying indignantly "I don't know why THEY didn't like it. Boys at parties LOVE it!".

No shit.

I wonder why so-horny-their-brains-might-pop teenage boys would agree with you and say you sing great, if you didn't really have a fabulous voice, huh? Im sure it had nothing to with them wanting to jump your bones till they're practically fossilised; or with you bumpin' n grindin' your candy-ass till their men down below were ready to repopulate the friggin planet if necessary.

No, no. I'm sure it was your voice.

But, for all that, some really good voices do turn up. Voices that can make you drop whatever you're doing to just listen. Voices that can raise the hairs on the back of your neck. For all the right reasons, too. I don't really care if they become the next idol or whatever, but somehow I seem to get a bigger kick out of listening to ordinary people with extraordinary voices. The singer in the Tube station is good enough for me. My friend who sings with all her heart is all I ask. Once any of this lot become famous, they seem to lose their talent, use all electronic stuff to simulate seconds and harmonics, or become/declare themselves gay.

I remember a conversation in the TV room.
somebody: hey, Britney Spears is on.
Adi: (looking elsewhere, drawling) Is she naked?
Somebody: uh, no...
Adi: Then there's no point. If she ain't naked, I ain't watching.

Heh heh.

The worst effect? I find myself singing, rather loudly and rather moronically, trying to prove I can sing better than most of those jokers, and that I'm probably good enough to be on that show. Who's listening? Nobody, that's who.
Damn. They've suckered me into the Great American Dream too, haven't they??

Damn.