It was a bloodbath. A travesty. A real shocker. The booting of Michael Johns. Hot Idol, R.I.P.
Dev-ah-station.
And didja see when Ryan mentioned how they let the loser live last year – in the spirit of charity and Idol giving back and all? And he had that hopeful look for a second? And then…And then he whipped the rug out from under him? N-a-s-t-y.
Now that’s good tv.
But really…was it?
Coulda been. Shoulda been. But wasn’t. Not for me. ‘Cuz I suddenly find myself not giving a rat’s ass. Even about the contestants I thought I liked. Am I emotionally invested in any of these cats? Not a one; nay nay nay.
At this point I’m sick of Earnest Archuleta and his lip-licking ways. And Brooke with her knowing nods and sad smiles. I’ve grown to like Carly, furrowed brow and all. And of course the Crossword Combover is my new fave. But at the end of the day, do I care? Syesha the weak, Kristy Lee Snore, Stoner Boy Dread….
As a wise young virgin once said: “that’s it?”
Seems to be. The publicity machine is spinning its wheels (see: return of idols of yesteryear). They’ve raised a fortune for charity (good for them). And for themselves (that’s showbiz). All the power to all the people. But between the butchering of the Beatles and this evening’s hideous Ode to Jesus, it’s all become a little insufferable. I even found myself stalling for time before turning on and tuning in.
Where are the Elton John days? Stevie Wonder weeks? I thought Barry Manilow would be an annual thing. Wha happened? Sing, sing, sing: doesn’t anybody promote themselves anymore?
Is it just me? Has anybody else lost that lovin’ feeling for this no-longer-must-see tv? I really believed I was in it for the long haul. But I’m not so sure. Don’t get me wrong – I’ll still PVR. I’ll still watch. I’ll still have the post mortem chats – for all of 2 minutes. It’ll be fun while it lasts.
I never thought I’d say this, but….American Idol, I’m just not that into you.
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