Okay, I Watched It

We came to scorn, but we stayed for the talent. Dawn and I have somehow ended up watching 2+ of the 3 American Idol episodes thus far, including last night, where, I am abashed to admit, I ended up giving a rat’s ass what happened. Damn.

There were cracks showing in my armor during the first episode last week, but then the second episode was all abuse, histrionics, and excremental singing, so I, with some relief, was ready to write it off.

But last night worked as the talent pool was cut from 200+something down to 32, and the cameras followed the participants through a brutal weekend of auditions, rehearsals, small group psychodramas, and surprisingly strong performances. There are a lot of very talented singers in America and the Darwinian pyramid these particular aspirants must climb yields nicely calibrated tension and release.

I also enjoyed the morality play as the cameras followed a small pack of rebel partiers on the town in Hollywood as the others rehearsed feverishly into the night. Only one, the feckless but talented Corey, made it through to the next round, the others were lost and the viewers were given the satisfaction of their comeuppance.

Here’s what Dawn had to say:

The big question was: Is Simon Still a Prick, A bigger Prick or Less of a Prick than last season. I guess it depends. He is only a prick if your singing totally sucks.

I think there is a lot of talent in the group they picked and I am cheering for Frenchie, Rick the Rocker and that doofus Cory.

I haven’t really become attached to any one person yet, but I would like to see those three keep going. It would be nice if someone who didn’t fit the mold of Simon’s “ideal” make it to the final round.

I think Randy keeps his mouth shut for a reason, he is a potlicker. Paula is just so sensitive and really seems to care about these kids. It’s sweet. Sad, but sweet. Simon has the right attitude: Either you have talent or you don’t. Many didn’t have an ounce, but some are amazing.

GO Frenchie. Shake that big old booty!!

Frenchie, a plus-size woman of great internal and external soul, wails like Aretha and Martha Wash, but never loses sight of the song.

Now I’m going to have to follow this – damn.