Friday, March 10, 2006

The Sacred Twelve

American Idolatry continues with it's usual fervor and hot sweaty palms. I really like that Ryan Seacrest. He is such a nice guy! And he is so required to handle the Awful Simon's nasty jabs, and do it with a smile and a good bit of showmanship. I don't think it's an act that those two hate each other's guts. I'm so glad I don't have to live inside Simon Scowl's skin!

Aside from the fact that pretty much everybody knows that American Idol(atry) is just a gleeful way to watch cruelty and torture on Live Tv--in a safe manner of course, since there isn't ever any blood and rarely any tears--people really seem to BELIEVE this stuff. And they don't seem to look behind the surface as to what a bizarre show this is.

For instance, nobody seems to think it the least HORRID that after you've dragged out the anticipation of the Hanging by making the person about to be voted off until the last possible minute just to build the fever pitch and feed the advertising revenues, that you then FORCE the LOSING PERSON to Sing the VERY SONG that got them booted off the Island to begin with.

You've woven this lovely hemp rope, and now we get to watch you hang yourself with it!

Scratch the veneer, my friends, and look upon what bloodthirsty, cruel and barely civilized beasts we are! And do it 3 nights a week for two hours each night!

Anyway, I'm just disgruntled. I really LIKED Gedeon, even if his Mom couldn't spell Gideon when she signed his birth certificate. He was interesting, could sing the birds out of the trees and had that very sweet smile. And....he was ODD. In the way that Taylor Hicks is Odd. Quirky and cool. You are drawn to that spark of unusual glowing meteorite inside them.

But America, subjected endlessly to subliminal programming and guided by a herd-of-sheep mentality, chose to vote out Gedeon and leave the wee lisping babe Kevin Covais in the running! Why? Is he really that cute? Is he really America's Darling? I thought for sure that Bucky would go. And Kevin. Bucky can sing, if you don't have to look at his teeth. Of course if he gets a recording gig, he can pay to have them capped. But I don't think you can have the 'cute' removed, and that is what would have to happen to make Kevin Covais the least bit palatable. You can dress 'em up in torn jeans, teach them some gang signs, and have them sing rap, but you can't take the 12 year old into a BAR! PEOPLE! The kid is not old enough to be up past his bedtime! He could never perform in an evening concert! PLEASE get your priorities straight on who you start voting off next.

Because no doubt about it, there are some seriously talented people who have been booted in order to keep the Kevin in the running.

Oh, and what made Ace decide he needed to hide his eyebrows? Because for the last couple of performances, after having explained to us his winter knitted ski-cap fetish, he's decided to take it's Beigeness out of his back pocket and start wearing it all the time now. It's STUPID. And Ugly. And doesn't do one thing to help his pretty boy looks in my opinion. I like his soaring, raven-wing eyebrows, why are the buried behind stretch wool?

On the home front, I'm working too much and ready to stuff my client in a velvet sack and toss him in the Yellow River, the way they used to do to Imperial Personages they were tired of and wished to depose. Yesterday he insisted that he had already taken his pills, and I told him he hadn't and that he had to take them while I was watching. He called me a NAG. He knows just how to dig his spiked tongue into the places it would hurt the most. I told him it was fine with me if he didn't want to take his meds, I have the number for the funeral parlor written right down by the phone. He thought about that for a second and then told me he decided he didn't want to take that chance and took his meds. But every day is like a WAR and I'm the losing country. Except I'm not. Because every day he loses a little bit more of who he ever was. I just hope at the end there is something left besides the nasty, digging, suppressive personality that he exhibits so much of.

My Dad used to sing a little song, and it went like this:

"Be Kind to my web-footed friend
The Duck may be somebody's mother!"
So I have to remember that this guy was and is someone's best memory of the greatest Dad. No matter how many names he calls me, or how many times he belittles me in general or tries to control my being. Because I can come home and change out of my martyr suit and live my happy life, and he cannot. He'll never get to live a happy life again. No matter how long he lives.

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