Seacrest...OUT!

As American Idol limps through its fourth season, I have come to realize that many of my nine or so loyal readers have likely never taken the time to view this wonderful program firsthand, thus missing out on a once-in-a-May-sweeps chance to see who will be crowned the next pop star chosen by you, the American public, followed by a quick tumble into obscurity. This fine piece of Fox programming has given us three young pop stars – Kelly Clarkson, Ruben Studdard, Fantasia Barino – none of whom have a song I can name off the top of my head. Oh wait, I forgot, I don’t listen to shitty Top 40 radio – my mistake! At any rate, aside from producing Idols (which I could have sworn were prohibited by the Ten Commandments…but I digress), Idol has also produced some fine by-products, including NBC’s A Clay Aiken Christmas (which included guest stars Barry Manilow, Will and Grace's Megan Mullally, and gospel star Yolanda Adams), the hit musical/film From Justin to Kelly, William “Snaggle Toothed American Idol Reject” Hung (who Us Weekly informs us has gone from “Hung” to “Chunk” thanks to some recent weight gain), the budding music career of Ozzie Smith’s son, the Diana DeGarmo home page (http://www.diana-degarmo.net/), and tens of thousands of losers that believe in their own minds that they are musically talented that are good enough to make asses out of themselves on national TV as they emit horrible sounds that are comparable to what a yak might sound like were it caught in a bear trap.

For those of you who haven’t seen the show, the following is a brief description of the main cast of characters:

Ryan Seacrest; Host: On Jeopardy, it would go like this – Answer: This spiky-haired, blonde-highlighted, perma-grinning metrosexual that serves as a model for the vast population of vapid Los Angeles males annoys us weekly as the host of Fox’s American Idol and radio’s American Top 40. Question: Alex, who is Ryan Seacrest? Correct, select again.

Simon Cowell; Judge: British prick who insults everyone and keeps show from being a total loss.

Randy Jackson; Judge, Token Black: Think of someone who talks in hip-hop lingo to a fault and brings nothing to the table. Now make sure they are black and have a love for absolutely horrible music. This is Randy.

Paula Abdul; Judge, Token Woman: In the winter of ’92, I was at Disney World with my mom and brother Greg, during which time he got Abdul’s song “Straight Up” stuck in his head. I watched him vainly attempt to make it stop for three days to no avail – pure hilarity.

(I know, I know – I realize by writing about this show that I come off as being extremely lame or extremely gay – however, I am providing you a service, so I suggest you quit looking this gift horse in the mouth and continue reading).

To sum it all up in a nice package, the show typically plays out in three stages:

1. Tens of thousands of “hopefuls” pack venues like the Louisiana Superdome and Cleveland Browns stadium, hoping for their shot in front of the judges. Episodes during this time feature contestants as either raw talent who get passed through to the next round (about 5% of the aired footage), or delusional losers with no talent who often times become enraged and psychopathic, causing the judges to fear for their lives. Easily the best period of any season.

2. Semi-finalists are assembled in groups of eight, during which time they all sing a song from a similar genre in front of smallish audience – on average, seven of the eight tank and one manages to perform decently as you, the American public, take over the voting responsibilities. During this phase of the season, the following canned judge responses can often be heard:

Randy: “Yo, man (regardless of whether it’s a guy or girl singing), what’s up. Yo, you did your thing dog, and, I don’t know, I just didn’t feel it, I guess, well, it was just ayight.”

Paula: “I’m amazed at how far you’ve come – you are so brave and you’ve inspired me to be inspired to inspire others – you just had one or two octaves that you needed to hit, but I think the best is yet to come – outstanding job, you should be commended for your bravery.”

Simon: “That….may have been the absolute worst thing I’ve ever heard (crowd groans). If I stuck a hot compass needle up my dog’s anus and captured his wailing on tape, I think I could sell more records than with your voice…(crowd boos)…I’m sorry.”

Seacrest: OK America, text your message on your Cingular phone to IDOLS-4 to vote for Chartrice. We’ll be back after this word from excellent sponsors Coke and Ford.

Brutal.

3. Finalists are selected to sing in a giant auditorium that’s somehow packed to capacity every episode. Thousands of signs likely made by Fox staffers are wielded throughout the crowd with clever phrases like “All the way with Clay!” and “We Love Amber!” Celebrity judges such as Paul Anka or Smokey Robinson are dusted off to hear their songs butchered on national television and heap ridiculous compliments on the performers like "you are ear-delicious". Judges spew compliment after compliment. Idol is announced, but hey, they’re all winners.

So there you have it – you now know what you’ve been missing out on all these years. Who will capture America’s hearts to become Idol #4? Whose songs will be sandwiched between the latest Vanessa Carlton single and “I Guess That’s Why They Call it the Blues” by Elton John on Lite FM stations across America? Who will Ryan Seacrest prop up on his American Top 40 show that he hijacked from old codger Casey Kasem? Only time will tell, so stay tuned and text those votes using your Cingular Wireless phone!!

Seacrest…OUT!