"American Idol" is a Hateful Freak Show

Remember freak shows? For a quarter, voyeurs from small towns would eagerly gawk at the bearded lady, the World's Fattest Man, midgets, Siamese twins and Zippy the Pinhead.

"Oh wow, lookit that, Ma!"

"Not so loud, Timmy. It can hear you. Pass the popcorn."

But we've moved on from those barbaric times. We're civilized. Who goes to nasty old circuses now? That's so twentieth century. Besides, why stare at physical deformities when it's more fun to peel off a loser's emotional scabs in front of everybody? Now that's entertainment!

Today, the freak show comes to you.

Hey, isn't American Idolon tonight?

Oh My Goodness, Chikezie just got kicked off! Simon was mean, Paula was a fruit loop, and Randy was--uh, actually, I don't know what Randy does.

Who cares? There's isn't a single performer on American Idol that's worth me shelling out my hard-earned money for a concert ticket or a DVD. They ain't worth me spending five minutes in front of the TV. Don't talk to me about lottery winners like Kelly Clarkson, Ruben Studdard, Fantasia Barrino, Carrie Underwood, Taylor Hicks, and Jordin Sparks. The odds are good that none of 'em will be around five years from now.

Oh, don't be fooled into thinking it's just a big and loud talent contest where bad singers disfigure good R&B/Rock 'n' Roll songs and induce migraines. No, it's a sleazy, lowbrow carnival where pop music's Axis of Evil gleefully crushes the dreams of anyone foolish enough to step inside.

Is it really surprising that contemporary record labels are undergoing a meltdown right now? No, it's not just illegal downloads that are the villains either. American Idol is a twisted reflection of everything the CEOs of music companies are doing wrong these days. "If REM had to make it now," Michael Stipe said, "we would have failed. That's how much the industry has changed. And it's not for the better." As it is, I think it?s ironic that Jennifer Hudson, an Oscar winner for Dreamgirls, was an American Idol reject "We're expecting more than a cruise ship performance from you." Way to go, Simon!

And how could you forget William Hung? (No, he's not a porno actor) Ick.

Is American Idol any worse than those daytime TV shows where you can watch the obese lesbian ex-nun having a incestuous relationship with her HIV+ step-brother who's in jail for stabbing their blind grandmother to death?

Sure it is. At least Jerry doesn't ask his victims to sing for their supper.

"Sweet Jesus, ain't she terrible? Sounds like somebody's torturing a cat, huh? Pass the popcorn."

And, of course, the noisy carnage drowns out a national dialogue on topics like Iraq or rising gas prices or the sudden uselessness of the FDA. We're more interested in hearing about what Sanjaya's doing now. As Neal Postman wrote in Amusing Ourselves To Death, "Our politics, religion, news, athletics, education and commerce have been transformed into adjuncts of show business, largely without protest or even much popular notice. The result is that we are a people on the verge of amusing ourselves to death."

Hey, whatever happened to Clay what's-his-name? "Spamalot"? Are you kidding?