Idol Hands Are the Devil's Playthings

The Common Man is angry today, but more at himself than anything else. Last year, The Common Man got into American Idol for the first time. It damn near caused him to drop out of grad school. After all, it requires two nights a week (three this week) to follow properly, and it's essentially televised karaoke. That did not, however, stop him from rooting on a bi-weekly basis for Taylor and Chris.

The Common Man swore, after the season ended, that he would never get sucked in again. Yet, here he is, on Wednesday night, sitting in front of the TV with The Uncommon Wife and The Evil Dog, watching the women largely crash and burn. There are dog-walking, blonde, bland white girls trying to sing Aretha. There are pouty women butchering an Aerosmith song that really wasn't that good to begin with. There are proud parents who can't figure out how to clap in rhythm. There are posers and pretty boys and, worst of all, There are women who actually choose to sing Celine Dion.

Then there are the judges. Randy is the kind of guy who waxes and plucks his eye-brows and cowboy boots. Simon is perpetually crafting insults that are obtuse and essentially meaningless. And, as The Uncommon Wife points out, Paula would give a standing ovation to the guy who bagged her groceries. Their comments are contradictory and confusing and essentially meaningless (what the hell does "a bit caberet" mean?). Randy actually told a girl that a song was "too urban" for her. Essentially that her skin wasn't dark enough to sing that song. Granted, she was singing Erika Badu, but she sang it well. Meanwhile, nobody's told Randy Jackson that he's too black to play with Journey. And yes, The Common Man did earlier criticize a white girl for singing Aretha. But a) her voice couldn't carry it and b) The Common Man is a hypocrit. So there.

Anyway, The Common Man formally endorses these people for American Idol: