ADVENTURES IN WRITING! Operating from Northern Indiana, this blog will cover aspects of culture with a bent on humor and the relentless belittling of the mainstream media, politics, and the syphilitic GOP (both major parties). News analysis happens. Put on your adult diapers, this gwine'-a'-be a bourgeois hoot. Some much needed hilarity for working class North Americans and international readers. I'm the part of this human world that bites back. Let's roll.
Friday, April 13, 2007
American Idol...
"A guy doesn't pay to be with a prostitute--he pays them to go-away."
--A wise adage, author unknown.
Cue "Axel-F": I don't know what it is (yo, what it is?) about this show, but while it basically-sucks...I kinda like aspects of it. What's that English guy's name--Simon? The Black guy--no idea who he is. But the English pansy is probably my favorite judge. He's just so brutally honest about how he thinks a performance of a contestant was, and has a comeback for everything. For fuck's sake, Oscar Wilde would be jealous of this Brit.
Someone on the show has to be a real judge, because Paula Abdul is so obviously inebriated and stupid to judge anything, while the Black guy likes almost everyone. Paula Abdul: I have always loathed her music, her choreography, and the fact that she can speak (OK, barely). She reminds me of what all the cheerleaders from High School must be like now: washed-up alkies, poodles for their rich husbands, yet atavistically demanding of some sort of "respect" in the situation they chose. Millions of human-beings who are better than her die every year, while she makes a mountain of cash...for what? Proof that the universe is fundamentally irrational...
Hey, it's not easy handing someone their asshole-casserole, it's a shit-job. Even the guy on the "Dirty Job" tv-show would balk and gag at it. But back to the Simony feller: he's gotta be the product of the English Public School system. For those of you who don't know, this is their legendary circuit of boarding schools that serve as a pederasty factory for schoolmasters, instructors, and upper-classmen throughout the UK. You know, future members of Parliament and the upper-crust of England. Tony Blair probably got his first buggering there, so you can understand him and his relationship with Bush a lot better now. Was I writing about American Idol? Sorry, I digress again.
The acts (non-sexual): it was mean to throw the scantily-clad chick off recently, she wasn't that bad (to look at). Most of the show's song selections are a strange-mix of James Bond themes (the worst-ones), salty rock n' roll from the 1960s-1970s, some jazz-standards, standards, standards and practices, tantric-sex, and 1% hip-hop (fine-by-me). I'm waiting for some smart-ass to sneak through the auditions with a cover of King Crimson's "21st Century Schizoid Man," or at least an unexpurgated version of "Darling Nikki" or the Hungarian suicide song, "Black Sunday." How about doing "Strange Fruit"? If you're gonna have the schmaltz, why no Cole Porter, Noel Coward, or Hoagie Carmichael? There have been a few moments that come close, but where's the original songs?! My challenge to American Idol: bring Diamanda Galas on as a guest-judge. Fuck you Fox, cancel the Simpsons.
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