As I laze around for yet another morning, I can't help but think of the movie Idle Hands, and how even though I never saw it, I remember the preview so well that if it comes up I sometimes say that I've seen it. And sometimes, I even believe it myself.
I love American Idol. This should not be considered a 'confession' or an 'admission;' rather, merely a confirmation that to be Sleepy is to be of refined tastes. Sure, the stakes feel a touch higher because the winners now have a proven track record of achieving immediate, remarkable success (or in the case of Mr. Studdard, a remarkably long belt). At the end of the day, though, whittling down the top 12 one by one is compelling television. Also, it makes for a great gambling opportunity for the creative or entrepreneurial. But I can't stand--or really, understand--the terrible performances. Yes, it's sad that these people have issues, but what really steams my clams is the whole 'evil Simon' routine. First, he's so annoyed, rolling his eyes at the fact that he has to be subjected to this. Then Randy and Paula attempt to stifle their own giggling, while everyone waits for that stinging barb from the incorrigible Brit--'You are the worst singer in the American Southwest.' And then his frustration grows and a mild argument breaks out either between Simon and the faux-contestant, or Simon and the other judges.
Well, guys, at this point we're in Season 7, and it's getting a little difficult to believe that Simon doesn't see it coming. Come on, FOX (wink). Grow up a bit.
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