Paula Abdul is joining Simon Cowell on The X Factor!!! Why the hell do we even need American Idol anymore? This new show might even be entertaining.

Kudos to Simon for bringing back Paula. Shrewd awesomeness. What a nice little birthday present for TopIdol. (Yes. Today is that day. And I’m starting my new job. Big big day.)

What do you think of this casting? Will you definitely be watching The X Factor, even though it will likely be chock full of dreadful ballads? Color me Spandeau Ballet. I’m actually looking forward to this karaoke chaos.

COMPLETELY UNRELATED. But I think this happened when Osama Bin Laden was getting his ass handed to him. Kismet.

Spread the word. Do it.

Crystal Bowersox (aka Ellen Barkin's younger sister?)

Is this it? Is this…the end? Well, although I doubt any of us will ever want to watch it again, it was nice spending Season 9 of American Idol with all of you. Tonight, almost every other former Idol contestant is in the house not because they’re naming Crystal Bowersox or Lee DeWyze as the new American Idol, but because its Simon Cowell’s last night on the show. So this isn’t about crowning the next singing superstar (HA!), its about ensuring Simon Cowell is sent off with a proper tongue bath & circle jerk. And then Lee DeWyze will win because even though Crystal blew him out of the water last night, we all know by now a woman can’t win this damn thing.

There was only a 2% difference between winner and loser this year. Seacrest obviously deferred to the percentage, seeing as the total vote tallies are likely fairly pathetic compared to past seasons. Crystal and Lee are also wearing school uniforms, which will obviously be part of a cringe-inducing final two theme in the vein of boxing (season 7) or guyliner-vs.-guy-next-door (season 8, but was that even a theme?). Tonight, we will be treated to performances from Idols new (Kris Allen) and Idols past (a Kelly Clarkson — Fantasia duet is obviously the most anticipated). Carrie Underwood will once again be lavished with undeserved praise. Oh. And a bunch of people our parents age are gonna rock out like its AARP Idol. Bret Michaels is tonight’s “surprise” musical act — he’s gonna sing with a hole in his heart and an iffy brain stem. He can do it. (Side note, Bret Michaels may now be tied with Henry Rollins for appearing on the most random TV shows, although the latter did appear on Unsolved Mysteries so you really can’t top that one. Sorry, Bret.)

Ah…the school theme is realized. Orianthi is playing Alice Cooper’s School’s Out while the TOP 12 sing. Siobhan Magnus uses this chance to show midriff. I am reminded Lacey Brown is one of those very dull girls who thinks dumping Kool-Aid on her hair will make her interesting. And then a bunch of other people come out, who may be…?

OMG. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, Casey James. Casey introduces Alice Cooper (aka Scott MacIntyre’s buddy!). I want to see Alice Cooper and Aaron Kelly hug. It might just make all the sense in the world right now. All of this was so very weird, yet so very American Idol.

KRIS ALLEN
The Truth

Performing his latest single The Truth, last year’s winner and his equally attractive band (I really hope the bassist does not get confused with Constantine Maroulis tonight. Poor guy.) get to be the first of tonight’s musical guests. It’s not the best I’ve heard the song done, and its not the best Kris Allen song, but hey, this guy could have likely wiped the floor with this season’s batch of middling contenders. And it really is incredible to see how far he’s come as a performer in only one year. Look at him work the stage. (Hey, I am admittedly a Kris Allen FAN. Not a TARD. I do not obsess over how Jive is marketing him or whether or not he gets to appear on American Idol more than once a season.

SIMON COWELL TRIBUTE MONTAGE

Wow. Look at Simon from 9 years ago. Is it age? New haircut? Both? Oh PAULA PAULA PAULA ABDUL. I love you so much. Oh Kara DioGuardi, why do you always make me look at least one of your shoulders? I don’t like you, or your botoxed shoulders.

Let’s face it. For all the times you’ve wanted to smack the guy, the show is Simon Cowell. It’s why it was such a phenomenon. Seacrest is merely a talking head. American Idol WAS Simon Cowell and Paula Abdul.

SIOBHAN MAGNUS & AARON KELLY &…THE BEE GEES
How Deep is Your Love

In the “we have to stick them with someone” category of tonight’s show, Siobhan and Aaron duet to a Muzak version of How Deep is Your Love before the Bee Gees join them. I am pissed I see Barry Gibb’s chest hair but NO FUNKY GOLD MEDALLION. I want to hear him talk about these CRAZY CRAZY TIMES. Bastard. I can’t hear Aaron much because Siobhan is drowning him out. Siobhan Magnus, I’ve decided something tonight. I really kind of hate your voice. Next please.

MICHAEL LYNCHE & MICHAEL MCDONALD
Taking it to the Streets

Oh jesus. Taylor Hicks Michael McDonald and Big Mike. This is worse than the 102.5 KEZK, the easy listening station my mother listens to if driving somewhere in the morning. They are paired with one another because they are both cheesy and named Michael. Big Mike is wearing his wallet chain. Michael McDonald sounds like he’s about to hock up a Danny Gokey hairball. Michael McDonald, I think you may have been good at one time but you sing Ain’t No Mountain High Enough and that enough for me to write him off. (Don’t you remember that irritating Verizon commercial from early last decade?)

DANE COOK IS NOT FUNNY

Dane Cook roasting Simon Cowell while strumming a guitar. Dane Cook might have a big dick or something, because that might be the only thing to explain his rise to stardom. The bit is dreadfully unfunny, until some favorite “bad auditions” of seasons past come out. The I am your brother guy, that Mary chick (I think), Tatiana del Toro, some others, and…NORMAN GENTLE!!! NOOOOO! Just as Nick Mitchel (aka Norman) is about to speak, this Ian Bernardo (?) guy keeps going and as soon as Norman gets the mic, we’re on another commercial. I’ve also already forgotten Dane Cook was there.

TOP 6 GIRLS & CHRISTINA AGULIERA
Beautiful/Stronger

Oh how cute. All the loser girls get to sing Beautiful / Stronger Christina Aguliera medley. The wardrobe department cut the budget this year, which explains why Paige Miles and Katie Stevens were stuffed into two of Adam Lambert’s jock straps. Siobhan Magnus almost falls in her stilettos. I giggle. Crystal Bowersox made me almost like the lyric she sang — but Beautiful is such a shit song. Katie Stevens gets to introduce Christina, a once-fledgling pop princess, now an almost has-been before the age of 30. Xtina is desperately trying to be edgy by attempting to look like a Eva Peron-Princess Leia-Betty Draper love child foregoing pants because Lady Gaga does not like pants.

Fast-forwarding so I can see a little HALL & OATES! What did Ricky Gervais do to deserve going on American Idol? Oh, I see. He’s friends with Simon Cowell. I can live with this, can’t you? Can Ricky Gervais just do the rest of the show?

TOP 6 BOYS & HALL & OATES

Lee DeWyze kicks I Can’t Go For That wearing another schoolboy blazer, this time with a purple heart or medal of honor or something. Awwww. Now here’s a sight for sore eyes! Timmy Urban! It’s the most ferocious boys in the bunch. They will take your lunch money and then kick you in the shins.

Awwww! Casey James and Tim Urban kick off Maneater. This is so much better than the girls. So much better. Casey even gets to solo with a little goat vibrato on the chorus! Oh Hall & Oates. I was first introduced to you by my mother, obviously, but I love you so. Long live Philadelphia Soul, dammit! And how sweet. You let all the boys do the ooooh-oooh-oohhhs on You Make My Dreams Come True. That diva Aguliera made the other girls skidaddle almost as soon as she took the stage.

Clearly this show was produced for the menopausal set. Activia and Boniva really missed the boat not buying ad space during tonight’s Finale.

CRYSTAL BOWESOX & ALANIS MORISSETTE
Ironic / You Oughta Know

I must admit. Crystal Bowersox and Alanis Morissette is a rather inspired pairing. And look at Alannis. Damn, she’s beautiful. Kara DioGuardi is totally gonna try and suck her blood after tonight’s show. The Botox is hiding it right now, but she is seething. Absolutely seething at the site of 1995′s Canadian Goddess in all of her stunning glory. Oh yes, Kara DioGuardi. Alanis Morissette is a real-life singer/songwriter. She was permitted to have a career as both! And she’s aging better than you. Suck it, Kara. Go cry in your Open Toed Shoes. There are just No Boundaries as what you will do for eternal youth, but don’t you dare try drinking Alanis Morissette’s blood.

CARRIE UNDERWOOD
Undo It

This piece of shit was written by Carrie Underwood and Kara DioGuardi. It’s utterly forgettable and sounds like Before He Cheats. Carrie moves her non mic-holding arm a bit more than when she was on American Idol, but it still looks a bit as if she lost mobility in a stroke. I know she’s one of the biggest country superstars of the last decade, but…she’s not one of my favorites.

NOW LEE & CRYSTAL GET THEIR FORD AUTOMOBILES

Kris Allen has the honor of presenting Crystal Bowersox and Lee DeWyze with their Fords. He says they have no idea they will be getting a new car. Come on, Kris. Everyone knows this! Oh, I see. They think they’re on their way to a photo shoot. This is all very Tyra Banks!

I’m happy. I’m just glad to be here, you know?

Huh, DeWyze? Where did that come from? I mean, it sounded so…weird. Perhaps there is truth to what that idiot said on that idiotic message board about you being slightly retarded? I kid, I kid. Just don’t give him any pet rabbits.

Kris Allen tells them the custom Ford graphic designs they made earlier this season have come back to haunt them. Yeah. They took those designs and made them their own little cars. How much do you wanna bet they just cobbled a bunch of shit together that day because they were in a hurry? Because that’s what I would have done. And that’s what you would have done.

The final Ford Commercial to My Wish is an equivalent to one of those clip show episodes of a sitcom, therefore, it does not require any commentary.

CASEY JAMES & BRET MICHAELS
Every Rose Has a Thorn

Awwwww…what sweet blond ambition. Our beloved goat and Bret Michaels, hair metal’s biggest fighter! He’s back on stage after being twice hospitalized in the past month and winning that Celebrity Apprentice shit. Please be careful, Bret Michaels. Casey James and Bret Michaels are now the stars of tonight’s show. Really? Bret Michaels’ first performance after a blood clot on his brain stem and discovering he has a hole in his heart (Hey, you just don’t know what some of those Rock of Love girls are carrying…) is on American Idol. With Casey James, the best-ever guitarist in the history of the show. Casey James, YOU WIN.

LEE DEWYZE & CHICAGO
If You Leave Me Now/song with numbers

Oh I get it. Because he’s from Chicago. No Peter Cetera? This looks as if your ne’er do well cousin Fred got shit-faced and decided to sing with the Old Dudes with Horns band in the 3pm slot at the local St. Peter’s Festival. Oh please oh please. Don’t let him do the chorus. Don’t. No. THE KITTY CATS ARE STILL ALIVE BUT NOW THEY ARE IN HEAT. NOOOOOO. THE POOR LITTLE KITTY CAT IN HEAT. SOMEBODY DO SOMETHING. WHY ARE YOU LETTING THAT KITTY CAT BE VIOLATED BY ALL THOSE OTHER CATS. STOP THE SCREAMING. IF YOU LEAVE THIS STAGE NOW, I PROMISE I WILL BE A NICE PERSON.

Oh yes. Just as I thought. We will find out everybody has been dead this whole time. Are you watching this? If I am wrong and everybody is not dead, at least one or two of tonight’s performers will need a hip replacement tomorrow. Please say its not Bret Michaels.

To erase all of that, I need to watch the greatest cinematic use of If You Leave Me Now from my all-time favorite movies, Three Kings.

Some douchebag in a burgundy velvet sportjacket named Matt is holding down the fort in Lee’s hometown of Mt. Prospect, IL. I really don’t care. I want to see more PAULA ABDUL. I WANT IT TO BE THE OLD DAYS WITH CLASSIC PERCOCET PAULA AND SIMON COWELL BANTER. Kara DioGuardi, go away. I want more Paula Abdul, dammit! More Simon-approved fluff…yada yada yada….can’t wait until I can blog about X-Factor, which will be much bigger than American Idol. More people will need to read recaps because more people will be watching. Is it Fall 2011 yet?

Seacrest muses with Simon about his favorite Idol performances — Fantasia’s Summertime, Kelly Clarkson’s A Moment Like This and Adam Lambert’s Mad World. All the batshit crazy Glamberts lighting candles because their lord & savior is on vocal rest right now just creamed their granny panties and ran to their computers to furiously type comments on blog posts everywhere on how this means Adam Lambert is the greatest American Idol contestant of all time.

GENERAL LARRY PLATT & WILLIAM HUNG
Pants on the Ground

Arguably the only watercooler moment of American Idol Season 9, Pants on the Ground just isn’t as good this time around. Even with all the dancers shimmying down to their boxer shorts. Bringing an Ed Hardy-clad William Hung (Trivia: Hung is an avid poker player and regularly makes the rounds in some decent-sized live tournaments) down to the stage, however, makes this one of the more inspired pairings of the evening.

More Simon Cowell tribute montage. But this time, with a lot more Paula!

After 8 years of sitting in between two men with bigger boobs than me, I had enough.

Oh Paula. Can’t we just say this is a tribute to you, too? Because we never got to say a proper goodbye. Paula Abdul and Simon Cowell ARE American Idol. And here she is! She’s on stage! She tells Kara how beautiful she looks tonight with palpable hatred. Kara responds emphatically, of course, that she looks amazing. MORE PAULA ABDUL. Even if she makes a lame joke about having Simon’s baby, its okay. Because its PAULA. And I’ve missed her. She even brings up MC SKAT CAT!!!

Please oh please oh please say Paula Abdul will join Simon Cowell on X-Factor.

American Idol’s not gonna be the same without you, but as I can tell you, it will go on.

She’s choking back tears. I am almost moved. More Simon Cowell montage shit…to Frank Sinatra’s My Way. Does he have his Frank Sinatra handkerchief?

THE IDOL GROUP SING TO END ALL GROUP SINGS
Together We Are One

Kelly Clarkson. Ruben Studdard. Fantasia. Carrie Underwood. Jordin Sparks. Taylor Hicks. (I really did like his voice.) Kris Allen. Where are you, David Cook? Huh? Everyone is now flanked by all other living former Idol contestants who could make tonight’s show. They are all in white. It is pathetic (they even let Constantine Maroulis and Blake Lewis do the big number), yet I am mesmerized. They are essentially thanking Simon Cowell for everything they’ve become. Oh please. But they’re singing to Paula, too. And for a moment, just one moment, my icy heart almost melts at the site of two somewhat-proud divorced parents during the first dance at their kid’s wedding or something.

Ok. It really didn’t melt, and the song was absolute shite, but whatever, it was nice to see some familiar faces. Matt Giraud, I had no fucking idea how much I missed you. Ace Young, you still look pretty. Kris Allen, the only thing worse than sticking baby in the corner is sticking you next to Jordin Sparks.

So is this Simon Cowell circle jerk over yet? Can we name the winner now? No. He’s gotta give a speech!

It’s great to have this little one back.

Damn straight. Simon hates you, Kara DioGuardi. He hates you. He loves Paula.

THE TOP 12 & JANET JACKSON
Trust In Me / Nasty

Janet Jackson is dressed like how one imagine’s Rhianna’s mother must dress if she was borne into the House Atreides. I am falling asleep. Janet Jackson’s song is putting me to sleep. Why is she singing almost exactly like her deceased brother Michael now? I mean, I guess it might work. I’m getting tired. Janet Jackson, can you pop out an adorned nipple or something? Ah, ok. We’ve moved onto something a bit more uptempo and Janet’s bodacious booty could pop out, as could an adorned nipple. Did Paula choreograph this one, too? I have the overwhelming urge to see Fantasia and Janet Jackson on stage, yet I still feel as if its Michael Jackson singing.

I also hope no one in the audience had a seizure. They had those lasers going on full speed again. Hey, is this show over yet? Seacrest just tells me tonight is about Crystal and Lee? Is it? I’ve already forgotten who they were at this point, and we’re just now doing the look-where-they-came-from-omg-he’s-a-paint-salesman-she’s-a-single-mom montage.

Together they took a journey to become something extraordinary.

Anyhow…I have no energy to touch that one. But they did take a journey to sing A Little Help From My Friends with Joe Cocker, a pairing which fits both of them quite well. Lee didn’t get the memo Crystal was doing the introduction of Cocker, whose role may or may not be performed tonight by Sir Anthony Hopkins.

It was almost kind of sweet, I think. I’m sitting on my sofa in oppressive heat as my Goat Love t-shirt sticks to me. I really just want this to be over, even it will be kind of sad to have no American Idol to recap next week.

The moment is here. Lee DeWyze might finally toss his cookies on stage. Please oh please oh please throw up, Lee. Please.

YOU WIN, FRAUEN. YOU WIN!!

Oh yes. Oh yes. It has been proven. The only way you can win American Idol is if you have a penis. A white one, though. Can’t be one that’s kind of tan or anything. Know something, Crystal Bowersox is gonna be just fine. It’s official, folks. Meet your new Paint Salesman Idol.

Kind of anti-climactic after the Simon Cowell Circle Jerk / Geriatric Bonnaroo, isn’t it? Dude doesn’t even get confetti. Oh wait. There are the pyrotechnics. And here comes the confetti! Now just close your eyes and listen to him sing.

Teach me / I know I’m not a hopeless case

Again. I just don’t have the energy to touch that one. But Casey James still got to sing with Bret Michaels. And Crystal Bowersox & Alanis Morissette. The show’s biggest moments, ironically, were at the hands of the second and third runners up.

Whatever. I still say everyone was dead the whole time. Now let’s discuss why women are incapable of voting for other women on worthless reality TV shows. So go wash down your Boniva with a glass of Franzia White Zinfandel while you play The Boxer for the 1031st time, Lee DeWyze fans, I hope you’re in the mood to buy his album in bulk come November.

As for me, well, I’ll still be around recapping some other shit TV (and really good TV come July). I hope you’ll still visit. Is our time together really done for the year?

Spread the word. Do it.

But Crystal doesn’t have a penis. Nor is she commercial. If only Crystal Bowersox had a commercial penis, she would have totally won this thing! (Hey, don’t cry for Crystal, she’s gonna be just fine.)

While DialIdol does not factor in the millions of text votes cast by American Idol fans, one can perhaps safely assume Lee DeWyze had a lot more crazy-ass power texters in his corner. He’s a white schlub with a penis. That’s all you need to know.

Those hard-core American Idol fans over at Idol Forums think Lee should win because he might be an inspiration to slightly retarded kids everywhere.

I’m not trying to knock the guy, I’m just genuinely curious. I know he went to Forest View Alternative School, which is “a program to meet the learning needs of highly at-risk special education students”.

He seems a little slow at times. I went to the parade with my two nieces and noticed his mannerisms were eerily similar to my cousin’s who has down syndrome. He kind of slurs his words at times too.. like when he said, “I’m gonna twy ta win the thing alwiiight”. That would be very cool if a special ed student won American Idol. It would be very inspiration to a lot of kids!

I don’t really need to punctuate that with anything, do I? But now I just keep thinking of Valley of the Dolls. Remember when Jennifer North married Tony Polar and could never understand why his overbearing sister was always around? And then she discovers Tony had a congenital brain condition causing him to have seizures and be mildly retarded? Anyway… (ETA: It was deleted. Bastards.)

MTV’s Jim Cantiello in Los Angeles (Hanging out with Lyndsey Parker, too!) for the finale, but still managed to get his Idol in 60 Seconds in early. Crystal is drunk! YAY!

Entertainment Weekly’s Adam B. Vary was also on the scene last night at the Nokia…

The courtyard outside the Nokia was also lousy with Idol alumni. Look, there’s season 8′s Scott MacIntyre doing some press! There’s his season mates Anoop Desai and Matt Giraud posing together for an iPhone photo! There’s season 6′s Chris Richardson chatting and hugging some fans! There’s season 4′s Constantine Maroulis politely waving off some fans! And there’s season 5′s Kevin Covais…talking to his friends who are all somehow smaller than he is! (For the record, the crowd appeared by far to be most excited about spotting Anoop, although that may have something to do with his jaunty bow tie with white and orange stripes.)

(Constantine Maroulis was there? They really did invite everyone back for Simon’s big sendoff. Guess its a good way to fill those empty seats, though. Did you hear? American Idol didn’t even score 20 million viewers last night.)

Entertainment Weekly’s King of all things Idol, Michael Slezak, gives the night to Crystal Bowersox, but because he knows how these things work, doesn’t that that means she has it in the bag.

The larger question that’s looming over the Idoloonie nation, however, is whether Crystal’s triumph in the Tuesday-night performance finale will be enough to win the season 9 war. As I said in the latest episode of Idolatry (embedded at the end of this recap), it doesn’t matter that much whether it’s Crystal or Lee getting that confetti shower at the Nokia on Wednesday. Because unlike some of their Idol predecessors, these two cats seem to have developed the kind of fan bases that will buy their post-Idol debuts based on the quality of the music, not on the basis of a ”winner” or ”runner-up” title.

MJ has compiled a list of rumors — many of which are now confirmed — for tonight’s American Idol (and Simon Cowell) Finale Show. I do love me some Hall & Oates. But does Lee DeWyze really fit the whole Philadelphia Soul vibe? Crystal Bowersox will be Getting By With a Little Help from Her Friends and Joe Cocker.  Solo performers confirmed for tonight’s show:

• Kris Allen (Performing his latest single, The Truth)
• Christina Aguilera (You’re not Lady Gaga. Get over it.)
• Enrique Iglesias (He totally peaked with Escape. I hope Idol doesn’t make him cover his mole.)
• Carrie Underwood (Ugh. Not again.)

Gawker’s Richard Lawson made me love him more. Why oh why aren’t he and I watching American Idol together?

OK, see, now I think it’s gonna be Phil. I think he’s too beloved to lose. People have seen into his soul patch and they like what they saw — a soft squishy thing, a hint of shag carpeting, some barely used dumbbells sitting in a mildewed corner, mysterious socks lying under the couch. They have seen into Phil’s basement boy’s room essence and, compared to Crystal’s — which is spikier, harder to traverse — it looks a little like heaven. Like the kind of thing they want to be. Like, well, a beautiful day.

Spread the word. Do it.

Tonight, I’m just a wee bit sad. No, not because I simply adore American Idol. And not because I simply adored this season. I’m just a wee bit sad because I simply adore tearing this show a new asshole on a weekly basis. I simply adore that a few of you actually take the time to read this shit blog. Where will you go? Will I ever see you again if we don’t have American Idol to talk about? I WANT US TO STILL BE FRIENDS!!!

Crystal won the all-important coin toss for tonight’s performance order and smartly chose to go second. So Lee DeWyze will be going first. I would have used the clever nickname I thought of for him last week, but I’ve already forgotten it. Sads. This year is a bit different in that the contestants were actually able to choose their possible coronation song. Because no one wants another No Boundaries. Bowersox has chosen something about a mountain and DeWheezey has selected something called Beautiful Day, which I want to believe is not the U2 hit made even more memorable in my favorite Super Bowl halftime show of all time. After all, both songs need to have the patented brand of syrupy schmaltz that is the Idol coronation song.

Wait…is it…? You mean they’re doing covers. COVERS? Wow. Kara DioGuardi. You killed the Idol coronation song. It might have been the only good thing you’ve done with your life. So Crystal Bowersox is doing Patty Griffin’s Up on the Mountain and Lee DeWyze is doing…U2′s Beautiful Day?

Lee DeWyze
Contestant’s Choice — The Boxer

As a child, Lee DeWyze wanted to be a baseball player. Then he picked up a guitar and fell in love with it, because after every kid finds out its nearly impossible to be a professional ball player, they then resort to their fallback plan. And that’s becoming a rock star. I also recall hearing this same exact story back in 2008 when David Cook was on the show. All the other little boys with similar dreams grew up to do other things. One of them is likely sitting next to you at a bar right now, or maybe he left your toilet seat up. He probably also sold you a can of paint.

How long can Lee stay in tune? How long will his line of spittle stretch like an orthodontic rubber band during the li-li-li-la-la-li-li-lis? He seemed to stay on tune a bit more than usual, but his first time around with this song was a lot better. He seemed more hungry during that performance and frankly, this one fell a bit flat. He phoned it in, perhaps because of nerves of perhaps because he thinks America will swoon and pick up their phones whenever they hear him do the Simon & Garfunkel classic. Sorry, Ellen, I disagree.

Awwww, look who got fresh Botox for Finale Week? And why is she not wearing her full skin suit? We can see part of her alien lizard scales. This would only be good if I could see her deep throat a hamster, a la Diana in the original V.

So he was connected to the song? Huh? Yeah. Simon sums it up better than Limited Vocab and Shit-For-Brains. He did need more passion and excitement.

Crystal Bowersox
Contestant’s Choice — Me & Bobby McGee

Yay! Crystal Bowersox’s biker dad! Yay! Crystal Bowersox has known who she is as an artist since her early teens! Yay! Crystal Bowersox brought her favorite bong back for the big night.

I don’t really have to listen closely to this performance to come to the conclusion Round 1 will go to Ms. Bowersox. She’s singing Janis Joplin’s Me & Bobby McGee. She can’t screw it up. She could sing this in her sleep and it would still be better than most of what we’ve seen this season. When Lee inevitably wins, Crystal will be just fine. I’m also issuing a $100 bet right now that within the next few weeks, rumors of her being cast as Janis Joplin in the Janis Joplin biopic that has never come to fruition (the last I heard was Pink) will start popping up.

I bet Randy says she’s in that damned wheelhouse again. Come on…come on…say it, Randy! Say it! Damn him! Although it does seem you can’t start things out slow on Finale night. At least in Randy’s eyes. Ellen sums it up quite perfectly. Go Ellen. Can’t you say things like that more often? Every time Kara DioGuardi says the word artist, I want to cut myself. Simon basically says she’s sucked for the past month, but now they have a competition on their hands. Yawn.

Lee DeWyze
Executive Producer’s Choice — Everybody Hurts

Executive Producer’s Choice just has really lame ring to it. OH JESUS FUCK. What was that first note? What is this…? WILL SOMEONE SAVE THE KITTY CATS? I can hear them dying but all I can see is this guy with a guitar on my TV. Wait there is a choir of like 1000 people behind him. Surely they don’t need that many people to do whatever it is that they’re doing, why aren’t they saving the kitty cats? The kitty cats are obviously trapped or hurt or scared and WOULD SOMEONE JUST SAVE THE KITTY CATS? I am not watching Animal Planet. I’m watching American Idol. I have no desire to listen to the audio from a kitty cat snuff film.

The choir just raised their hands. OMG THEY WERE SACRIFICING THE KITTY CATS TO THEIR GODS. HELP THE KITTY CATS. EVERYKITTY HURTS…Limited vocab Randy just said it started off pitchy (JUST PITCHY?) but then he got it back on track and became the Lee that he knows and loves. Sure, the final quarter was in key, but likely because he could shout the bridge. Oh Ellen, no.

I felt that you went off a couple of times, but I don’t really care about that, it’s really about the performance.

Ok, well she recovered…kind of. OH KILL ME NOW.

Lee, what makes you great as a performer is that you’re emotionally accessible. And that I can feel every word you’re saying and you’re telling a story. It wasn’t a perfect vocal, but I loved that about you.

Emotionally accessible? Granted, rocks show more emotion than Kara DioGuardi’s damned forehead so maybe that’s why her perception is off. Simon thinks it was a brilliant song choice for him.

I understand, you’re nervous.

The judges who are getting paid millions of dollars to judge a singing competition have just informed us singing means nothing. They’re not even pretending anymore.

Crystal Bowersox
Executive Producer’s Choice — Black Velvet

Come on. Crystal Bowersox deserves more than this trite piece of shit from one-hit wonder Alannah Myles. How many times has this song been performed on American Idol? (I know someone has the stats, so please give them up.) This song has aged about as well as the movie Cocktail.

Bowersox puts a bit of a bluesy torch song spin on it, but she must know its absolute shit? She just doesn’t look comfortable up there sewn into that ruched-to-all-hell-wannabe-diva black dress. And while she deftly handles such a shitty song choice, she almost overdoes it vocally when going in for the Siobhan Magnus (remember her?) glory notes. The judges will love it.

And the judges do. Lee DeWyze might be fucked. After all, it is a girl’s year, remember?

I’m almost allergic to that song. I’ve heard it so many times in auditions where people have absolutely murdered it.

Oh yes, Simon. Oh yes. So does this mean Crystal Bowersox can ably handle any shitty song you give to her? That’s a pretty tall order. Have you heard some of the releases from American Idol finalists? Anyhoo, Crystal makes a couple of jokes to endear herself to the audience once more. Whomever said she’s not media friendly sucks. She throws out the words little boy, diabetes and the lord at the right time, and also makes jokes at an opportune time.

I am so bored, so very, very bored. I’m so profoundly bored. Dear Lee DeWyze, this is your life now. Did your little boy fantasies of being a rock star include all those signs made with Sharpies and poster board?

Lee DeWyze
Coronation Song — Beautiful Day

It is the U2 song. Oh, Simon Cowell. Don’t you remember what happened the last time you got Bono to clear a song for a contestant? He lost. Anyway, someone was obviously taking advantage of Bono’s current infirm state when they got them to clear Beautiful Day for Lee DeWyze? The crusading rock star must be on some heavy painkillers right now, huh?

In all actuality, its Lee’s strongest performance of the evening, but the song doesn’t veer far enough from the original to make it distinct enough, which is almost necessary when you’re doing an incredibly popular song that is relatively recent in the grand scheme of things. Beautiful Day is one of those songs that always been uplifting in a sense, yet not entirely cloying, even though it is a most typical I-am-Bono-I-wear-sunglasses-&-want-to-save-the-world anthem. It’s corny, yes, but it just works. Perhaps again it is because, no matter how many times I’ve heard it, I will always associate it with the 2002 Super Bowl. (Yes, I know. The album was released in 2000.) It was the first song in U2′s emotionally-charged set that featured no frothy stage antics, just every name of those who died on 9/11 projected behind them during Where the Streets Have No Names. Save for Bruce Springsteen’s The Rising, which still gives me chills every time I hear it, Beautiful Day is a song so indelibly associated with a time where the United States was still reeling from the confusion and tragedy of the 9/11, that its hopeful message seems almost cheapened in any other context — especially on a show called American Idol.

Sure, U2′s Walk On is probably more associated with 9/11 than Beautiful Day, but that’s otherwise one of U2′s weaker songs.

(In case you don’t remember, or you missed it the first time around, here’s the greatest Super Bowl halftime show in the history of Super Bowl halftime shows.)

Regardless of what it makes you think of, Beautiful Day may be just too iconic an anthem for any American Idol contestant to take on. Even with an orchestra backing them. Hell, I still think Adam Lambert’s version of One from last season’s finale was one of his weakest performances. Again, perhaps it may just be U2 is one of the few huge acts still performing and releasing new material that any of their work may just be too recognizable for a karaoke contest. It’s U2. I mean, when you want to hear With or Without You, who do you want to hear singing it? U2, or some schmuck you sells you paint? All of this being said, I would love to see a U2 night on American Idol. Perhaps I’m a sadist. And a night of Bruce Springsteen songs? Oh yes. I am a sadist, granted, I would love to see what Crystal Bowersox might be able to do with Atlantic City.

You know something? It says a lot about how dull this show is when I just spent about the last 20 minute waxing faux-philosophical about U2, Bruce Springsteen and 9/11.

The judges give mixed reviews. Kara says he has the most commercial voice of anyone in this year’s competition. When Kara says commercial, its much like when she says artist (but what about those who do not believe you can be a true artist if you’re commercial? Yikes. I am so bored.) and I feel the need to cut myself. Simon reminds us that its his last Idol to judge and that Lee worked in a paint store. Did you know that Lee DeWyze used to sell paint?

Crystal Bowersox
Coronation Song — Up on a Mountain

Doing what she does best — but where is the bong stand? I am also in love with Crystal’s necklace. (Is she still wearing Lilly Scott’s feather? AWESOME!) I don’t know if there is any need to critique Ms. Bowersox’s performance, even with those backup singers hovering all around. Song choice? Perfect. Originally recorded by a respected artist (Patty Griffin) yet not a mainstream pop song known by the entire fraking world. It showcased every one of her strengths. Crystal Bowersox is the real fucking deal. And perhaps that’s why I’m still so damn bored. Because Crystal Bowersox IS great. She’s just always been better than this shit show.

JESUS FRAKING CHRIST IDIOT AUDIENCE PERSON. This is not a Danny Gokey show. This is Crystal Bowersox. Put your hands down, ya asshat!

Sure, Ellen can’t compare her to any contemporary artist, but why the hell is she giving some of the best critiques this evening? She’s almost having a moment. Which pisses Kara DioGuardi off because she is still so desperately — emphatically — trying to have one. Uh oh. Tears. Then…kissing ass to Simon? Crystal Bowersox is press savvy, ain’t she? Has Idol already stolen her soul?

And since this is the final critique I am ever going to give…That was outstanding.

So in the end, the judges threw Lee under that bus that still has Casey James bloody blond hairs caught in the tire treads. After all, it was a girl’s year.

Wait…we’re not done? Will Young? The original-original Idol singing live? To a Season 9 montage? Oh ANGELA MARTIN! COME BACK! Yeah. I bet Kara DioGuardi has done nothing to help you with recording that single now, has she?

Oh great Flying Spaghetti Monster, shoot me now.

So who’s gonna win? No one. We will find out everyone was really dead the entire time and this was some sort of limbo where they had to work out issues they had while they were alive. And Kara DioGuardi is that smoke monster or whatever the hell it was. I didn’t really watch that show.

Spread the word. Do it.

CONTESTANT’S CHOICE

Casey James
It’s ok (It’s alright with me)

Naturally, Casey James is going first because nary a producer or judge wants him to break up the pre-ordained Crystal-Lee finale. Casey chose this song because he loves it, and its similar to the kind of music he writes. Perhaps turning in several quality performances during his hometown visit has helped relaxed Casey. He’s happy. He’s comfortable. He sings it well. It’s lazy-day music. It doesn’t go anywhere, but it doesn’t seem to do anything but lounge in a porch swing. And sometimes, that’s okay. Not every song has to be about falsetto fellatio and climactic hoohahs. Sometimes simple works best. Sometimes it doesn’t. Sure, maybe he should have taken it up a notch, but perhaps he knows the deck is stacked against him and just wants to go out on his own terms. I’m not quite sure what else he could do at this point, since it’s already apparent how this is going to play out…

Randy says it was just alright — you know, like the song title — and he needed to be groundbreaking and original since this is such a big night. Everyone else agrees, of course. This was written beforehand. They have teleprompters. Now its just a matter of saying it emphatically.

It’s hard to pick a song nobody knows.

I really hate this condescending twat. Shit-For-Brains should just shut up. Casey just can’t ever get credit for doing something slightly different, can he? Whether its a slight rearrangement or a slightly unknown song, he is chastised for being unoriginal. No matter what the guy does, the bus is still gunning for him.

Crystal Bowersox
Come To My Window

One of her favorite singers, Melissa Etheridge is an excellent choice for Bowersox. She’s even got her bong mic stand out tonight. Starting off with a harmonica, the first lyric is a bit off and sadly, time restraints do nothing for the arrangement, as she is forced into the bridge almost right away. She sounds lovely in parts, but I kept waiting for it to go somewhere. Crystal has moments of vocal brilliance, but then some parts just fall flat. While the harmonica at the beginning was kind of a nice touch, it may have effected her performance. She always seemed as if she was racing towards the end, when she hopped on the harmonica once again. Except she got lost somewhere in between.

The judges praise her vocal, but say the performance did nothing for her. Shit-For-Brains DioGuardi, sadly, explains it best. (I HATE YOU WOMAN.) Simon says more than I’ve heard him say in weeks. The lukewarm reaction to Crystal’s performance is understandable — it was one of her weakest, most lifeless performances, which often happens when you’re finally able to take on a singer or song you’ve always admired and a lot is riding on it. It’s difficult to shake the feeling, however, that the judges are just saving up their praise for DeWheezy.

Lee DeWyze
Simple Man

The chosen one (sorry, dear Bowersox. They’re putting all their eggs in Lee’s basket now. Had you actually sat through one of these shit shows before, you would have learned how fickle those asshats can be.) is doing Lynard Skynard. Like Casey, the hometown visit seems to have done wonders for DeWheezy. Its a solid rendition, still doesn’t leave the bar at around midnight on a Saturday night and the last note sends his guttural goodness into the sewer.

But hey, its better to be playing to a packed bar at midnight on a Saturday than to an empty room with only a few remaining drunkards slurring their words at 2:30 am on a Wednesday night. So Lee DeWheezy, I give you props. Nicely played. Now go get me another rum & coke.

And cue the I could see you making an album like that. Oh. And the he’s in it to win it. At least with Ellen DeGeneres, you don’t know what animal or vegetable or mineral she will compare you to. Uber-twat Kara fawns over Lee, telling him he showed them everything he’s got. She says this with such a husky, emphatic urgency that makes me want to slap her. The bitch just tries too hard to make herself look relevant. It isn’t really fair, however, since her glowing assessment of Lee’s performance — you chose a song that had meaning for you, blah blah emphatic blah — is a bit of a slap in the face to Crystal and Casey, who both chose songs that meant something to them. By artists that meant something to them. And if you’re even just a solid, garden-variety bar singer, you likely know how to do Skynard pretty damn well at this point.

Commercial break…I have never seen a Shrek movie, but I am so going to McDonald’s to buy the glass on the far right. For obvious reasons. Obviously.

A picture says 1000 words… (or does the saying go a picture says 100x more than Randy Jackson’s vocabulary?)

JUDGE’S CHOICE

Casey James
Daughters

Randy and Kara spout some crap about how they think Casey should be like John Mayer. Yeah. This is a shitty ass song. Indulgent doesn’t even begin to describe this crap. It also makes the swaybots sway. Why don’t you just chop his head off? Killing someone is easier when you just do it quickly.

The song is loathsome, but Casey gives it his all, a little goat vibrato there, a little goat vibrato here. I like his voice. Shoot me. But know what I really like? I like it when Casey James plays guitar. This performance would be a lot better, if it wasn’t such a loathsome fucking song that frankly, gives me the creeps. It’s John Mayer, for chrissake.

The judges praise him this time around, well, not so much him as themselves, because it was they who chose the song. And Randy and Kara love talking about themselves and their sage wisdom. Simon takes them to task for their selection, just as he did last season when they gave Kris Allen that Ryan Tedder garbage. He complains there wasn’t enough of a climax and Kara starts emphatically talking about how it doesn’t need a climax because its all about emotion. Hey, I dig emotion. But I hate John Mayer. And Kara DioGuardi, the only thing I would hate more than being stuck in a room with you is being stuck in a room with you and Julia Roberts. Your rampant narcissism and commitment to being so damned emphatic about every damn thing you say makes me want to shank someone. Hell, you make me want to shank my couch.

Crystal Bowersox
Maybe I’m Amazed

Ellen selected Paul McCartney’s classic for Ms. Bowersox and its a much better choice than what those dingbats surrounding her chose for Casey James. Notice how the judges’ choice works? Randy & Kara get to choose for the person they want to go home immediately. Nice judge (aka Paula/Ellen) gets to choose for the contestant they want to be in the finals, but not win. And Simon gets to choose for the ordained winner.

Crystal sounds lovely, and Rickey Minor & Debra Byrd did not make her change the gender orientation of the song (maybe I’m a man / maybe you’re the only woman who could ever help me). Speaking of men, Crystal goes balls out on the vocals. Balls out. I picture a choir behind her, but Crystal doesn’t need a choir to make her sound better. She also did beautifully without her guitar. Gee, Randy. She must be in it to win it, right? Ellen, nice job on song selection. Kara, shut up about song rearrangement. You can’t even arrange your meds properly in that pillbox marked with the days of the week. Four words, bitch — OPEN TOES. (Funny, rearranging songs was never a make-it-or-break-it factor until David Cook, was it?)

Lee DeWyze
Hallelujah

Another song in desperate need of a mercy killing on American Idol, Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah. Naturally, Simon has chosen this for the erstwhile paint salesman from the Chicago burbs. Simon owns the rights to this song. You hear that sound? That’s another zero or two being added to one of Simon’s bank accounts. But Simon says he chose the song for Lee because he LIKES Lee AS A PERSON and how its never been done like how Lee is gonna do it on the Idol stage. (Yeah…slam Jason Castro why dontcha. He’s kind of the one who made it an Idol standard. And didn’t little Timmy Urban just sing this already this season?) He also says he’s basically handing Lee his moment on a silver platter.

A fraking backup singer choir? Are you kidding me? Oh. Did you hear how he ruined that first refrain with his last hallelujah? Why didn’t you put the backup singers in robes for chrissake? At least we know they were there to drown out DeWheezy’s patented off-key wheeziness, but hey, stick him in all white and call it a moment. The judges cream all over themselves. They also use this time to drive the point home how Lee is what this show is all about. How Lee was just a guy selling paint searching for his big break. How Lee laid down the gauntlet. How Lee has improved so much in this competition. Kara DioGuardi is out of control emphatically demanding HER moment — she really does become more insufferable every time she opens her mouth. Simon basically handed him the title. Randy and Ellen reiterated everything the somewhat more pertinent judges said. It’s manipulative. It’s predicable. It’s pathetic.

You know what? I’m gonna listen to it again. Perhaps I missed something while furiously typing away on my laptop. Perhaps it was sheer brilliance. Perhaps Lee DeWyze is one of the brightest undiscovered talents the world has ever known. (And hey, Lee does, at times, lead one to believe he may possess certain qualities most desirable American Idol winner — i.e., someone who might finally tell his batshit crazy fans to shut the frak up and leave him alone and…a guitar? Hmmm…it wasn’t bad. It was relatively in tune, but…I did not cream myself. So um…

Every moment of tonight’s show reiterated the fact that American Idol sucks. Sure, it’s always sucked donkey balls, but now it sucks rotten corpse maggot-infested donkey balls. What was the point in even allowing Casey James to sing tonight, or for that matter, even Crystal Bowersox? While part of me relishes the pimping of Lee DeWyze as Idol finally accepting a girl can never win this damn thing because women of a certain age are the only ones who vote hard and vote often, the other part of me feels bad for our beloved goat and Saint Bowersox. Because I’m the type who roots for the girls with guitars and all the undergoats in all the world.

But I’m still bored.

Spread the word. Do it.

I GOTTA LEAVE / get down girl / go head get down

It’s the episode you’ve all been waiting for! Season 9′s Top 4 contestants sing some mostly terrible songs from movies mostly released before DVDs ever existed. American Idol is analog, baby! If your playlists mirror your favorite easy listening station and your movies look best on VHS, this is THE place to be for Songs of the Cinema!

Ryan Seacrest says only one of the four remaining contestants will realize their dream of becoming the American Idol. Is this so, Ryan? Can you not read the misery tattooed on all their faces? The only one who really WANTS to be an American Idol is Michael Lynche. Its why he waves with both hands when walking out onto the stage. Waving to a throng of strangers with two hands is international sign language for I want to be the American Idol.

Jamie Foxx is here but I don’t know how much of a mentor he’s going to be, mainly because Harry Connick, Jr. killed it last week and they showed a clip of Foxx mentoring last year’s contestants. (Miss you, last season. Miss you. I still can’t believe I just wrote that.) Foxx’s idea of mentoring involves distributing t-shirts reading either contestant or artist contingent upon the strength of their rehearsals.

Lee DeWyze
Kiss From a Rose

While Lee DeWyze may win this entire thing, it does not discount the fact he should be taken outside and shot for choosing Seal’s Kiss from the Rose, once sang on the show by Greasy Constantine Maroulis. Seriously, dude. A tired love theme from 1995′s Batman Forever? Obviously Jamie Foxx just wants this season to be dead & buried, too, as he admittedly does a replay of his “yelling in his face” schtick originated for Danny Gokey all those moons ago. During DeWheezy’s rehearsal with Foxx, he is woefully out of tune.

And during his performance, he is unable to sing in tune. It’s just bad. Bad. And even though he has a guitar, he did not make it is own. It’s the same damn song. Once Lee gets into the bridge, he seems to jumping from key to key, but also at least a half-count ahead of the band.

You’re a rocker, chose some other kind of song. Choose Blaze of Glory by Bon Jovi.

Blaze of Glory. From 1991, was it? Oh Randy, just time to pack it in. But at least Randy and every other judge thinks he was complete shit. Ellen musters up some sort of complimentary phrase reassuring him just how great they [the judges] think he is. Shit-For-Brains’ mouth opens and words come out. Simon is the harshest, mainly because he he just really, really wants his time on the show to be a distant memory. He calls Lee karaoke and says he deserved the contestant t-shirt rather than the artist one bestowed upon the paint salesman.

Whoa. Hold up a minute. They still make an album of seasonal highlights from the Top 10. No way. Uh…why? I thought this was finally viewed as unnecessary, not only because they are never any good, but because of some multimillion dollar deal with iTunes?

Michael Lynche
Will You Be There

Big Mike is doing Michael Jackson, which might be a safe move, since people are still sad about Michael Jackson’s death. (Isn’t that what kept Paige Miles around at one point? How do I remember her name?) He’s singing a song about a whale. Big Mike prattles on and on to Ryan about how there’s so much pressure on him to make the Top 3, since he made that his goal last year and he wants to make his family and his city (St. Petersburg, FL) proud. Basically, Big Mike is gonna be ripshit if he doesn’t get a parade in his honor where he can wave at lots of people with both hands.

Jamie Foxx senses Big Mike needs to remember that he does, in fact, deserve to be there. Big Mike just needs to relax! Jamie suggest dancing and sparring. None of this works. Big Mike refuses to take the contestant t-shirt Jamie wishes to give him and says he will still kill it, despite the fact their run-through did not go very well. Jamie thinks Big Mike just needs to let go, which is the honest-to-goodness truth. But what are the chances Big Mike is actually gonna “let go” at this point in the game.

Big Mike appears on the stairs, trailed by a pack of backup singers-cum-wannabe-choir-singers. Naturally, he is wearing his wallet chain. It is as dull and lifeless and vocally perfunctory as everything else Big Mike has ever done. No matter how much he mugs for the camera or holds those runs, all of Big Mike’s performances are the same. Perfunctory.

Why can’t Kara DioGuardi get goosebumps while wearing long sleeves? The crowd barely illicits a response when she speaks. She tries so hard. Simon is clueless about the song and has no idea what Free Willy is. He says at least Big Mike’s heart was in it. Yeah, Simon, I don’t give a shit anymore either. I can’t even write anything halfway amusing tonight, the show is just that pathetic. I’m just wondering whether or not one would listen to I’ll Be There after Will You Be There, because it would sort of be like a Michael Jackson Q&A thingy, except he can’t be there anymore because he’s dead.

Lee DeWyze & Crystal Bowersox
Falling Slowly

Because no one is capable of being original this evening, Crystal and Lee have decided to make a duet out of the Oscar-winning Falling Slowly, which disappoints me because a) no one is capable of being original and / or was unable to get any decent song cleared and b) Kris Allen’s performance of Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova’s insanely-beautiful love song is one of my all-time favorite Idol performances — and it is likely what catapulted him into the Top 2 over Danny Gokey. (Lest we also forget how I totally called it as the ideal song choice for Allen days before the show?)

Interestingly enough, Crystal’s presence keeps Lee a bit more on tune, but then he gets all shouty and Crystal’s lips are moving but I can barely hear her. Lee makes Crystal sound almost pedestrian on the few moments I can hear her, and the poor thing is trying to keep up during the crescendo, as Lee almost seems to shout louder and faster. All of it is quite disconcerting, but Crystal is quite nice on the chorus when her strong voice finally powers through. Lee has been described as having a “gravely” voice and at times it gives the hope of being somewhat interesting, yet it inevitably descends to that nameless bar’s backstage five minutes before the bartender turns up the lights for last call. He is not deft enough to capture the nuanced heartache so memorably conveyed by Hansard in the original, and comes nowhere near Allen’s moving rendition from last season. It’s difficult not to wonder what could have been if Bowersox had done it on her own.

Will the judges um, ever say HIS name? Not Randy. He creams himself over what could be a hit right now. (Scroll down to the end to see what Randy said about the same song last year.) Ellen calls them the new Captain and Tennille, because she is responsible for the quirky one-liners and quirky one-liners alone. Poor Ellen DeGeneres. She’s so much better than this crap. Shit-For-Brains says it was her favorite moment of the season and Simon calls it a great song. (BTW, no one mentions the guy who won last year, but did you really expect them to?)

Casey James
Mrs. Robinson

My second-favorite goat is even wearing a turquoise-ish leather jacket! In what should be viewed as the most strategically-brilliant song choice of the night, Our Beloved Goat sings a classic song about banging older chicks. (Anyone else hoping the cougar vote gets fiercely behind Casey this evening, just to spite the seemingly unstoppable shouty out-of-tune Lee DeWyze?) Casey’s tiny guitar version has a country slant and is a bit sleepy (and kind of reminds me of Jason Castro), but at least he attempted something new with it, which is more than I can say for anyone else I’ve seen this evening. It’s also kind of likable. The song makes me feel as if I’m lying lazily upon my family’s old pontoon boat as it passes through a no-wake zone in the Lake of the Ozarks and I have a piece of straw in my mouth or something. Now I’m wondering where I came up with such post-modern Mark Twain shit.

Of course, Casey’s song choice gives ample opportunity to bust out more KARA IS A COUGAR jokes, which she obviously was encouraging with this evening’s subdued blazer-and-white-button-down look with the hair pulled back. Kara is clearly dressed as a stripper dressing like a teacher for their center stage show at the Golden Banana. She totally got the idea from watching Varsity Blues. Naturally, Randy brings this up and eventually gets around to saying it was cool but didn’t do much for him. Ellen makes a joke about him needing a bigger guitar. Kara tells him he’s fighting to stay in the competition and blah blah blah and oh yeah, Mrs. Robinson is about HER. Once she tells Simon what the song and movie (THE GRADUATE , SIMON? Is movie illiteracy in your script this evening?) is about (groan) and another willy joke is thrown in (shoot me now), Simon then proceeds to tell Casey it was lazy and he needed to do more on a night such as tonight, but he sure as hell doesn’t understand many of tonight’s song choices. Yes, yes. Let’s throw our Goat Man under the bus. How is what he did…I mean…have you HEARD everyone else…? At least it was different.

Crystal Bowersox
I’m Alright

Definitely the most INTERESTING of tonight’s song selections, Crystal chooses the Caddyshack classic originally sung by the King of All Soundtracks Kenny Loggins. Crystal will obviously be the best this evening, as she is the strongest of anyone up there — and has been for weeks or months or something. But most of all, Crystal chose something FUN when everyone else has been beyond dull (Lee, Big Mike) or too subdued (Casey). She might not even need to bring a dancing gopher out on stage.

Crystal isn’t stupid, as she astutely notes Caddyshack is a really funny movie and no one is having fun tonight. I might have paraphrased, but that’s how it went down. As per usual, she’s gracious with this week’s mentor and they, in return adore her because she makes their job a bit easier.

Accompanied by a hand drummer, with two backup singers ALMOST ideally subdued far, far away (They got louder towards the end, damn them!) and her trusty bong mic stand, Crystal is like a perfect day on the country club golf course. But I hate golf so fuck it with the metaphor. Crystal’s arrangement is fun and a bit inventive, and its always refreshing to see her use an accompanying musician in a way that highlights their strengths rather than solely illuminating her vocal performance. She’s clearly a team player. The judges tell Crystal she’s a great artist, all that jazz. Yawn. Simon tells her she’s back in the game. Really, dude. When was she out of it?

I already have a photo of Crystal, so here is one of her men friends. Her boyfriend wears patriotic pants and dances like the Caddyshack gopher. This is good enough for me. And Crystal does a little gopher dance, too. This is also good enough for me.

(I hate Glee. I hate Glee and that beyond irritating Lea Michele idiot’s Restylyne lips. For chrissake, you’re playing a Tracy Flick wannabe high school student. Don’t jack up your lips with cosmetic injections. I hate Glee. Carry on.)

Casey James & Michael Lynche
Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman?

This song sucked when Bryan Adams did it (in 1994…) and I still hated it when Matt Giraud performed it last season. Should a Bryan Adams song from a shit movie called Don Juan de Marco really even be considered in an (allegedly) illustrious Songs of the Cinema night anywhere? Ever? Me thinks not. But what are you gonna do? No one ever accused American Idol of having any taste.

Casey and Big Mike both have their guitars. Casey starts off with a big of goat vibrato and it almost seems a bit odd when Big Mike comes in, but he does a nice little job and I’m actually beginning to uh, dig their duet. I still don’t like the song, but Casey’s lead guitar work is solid. They even seem to be having a good time! I know Crystal now has some safe crush or something on Lee but whatever, this was pretty much a preferable duet for whatever reason. I have no clue. Maybe I’m just lulled into submission at this point of the show. Did you notice everyone had guitars tonight at one time or another? Or both? Or maybe I just feel like being nice because both of these dudes are being thrown from the bus and some audience member’s tard sign requesting a prom date is the funniest thing I’ve seen all night — until I see THE CREEPY MAN IN SUIT LICKING FINGERS.

Randy says he likes it, but basically says Casey’s guitar work is great and it was not good vocally until Big Mike came in all sexy.

As a matter of fact, yes I have loved a woman.

Ok, Ellen. That wasn’t judging. But that was funny. Everyone agrees with Simon in that the duets were better than the solo performances. Whatever. And Jamie Foxx, you were more fun last year, even if you amused me with your faux-enthusiasm with Seacrest announced Fantasia, Daughtry and Bon Jovi would be performing on tomorrow night’s results show.

Next time they ask you to mentor, Jamie Foxx, print up some t-shirts that read I suck. Because everything sucked. The end.

Just kidding. While I’m definitely no Kristard, I’m a fan of Kris Allen. And since everything tonight sucked, I felt the need to post something. (SUCK IT, RANDY JACKSON.)

Kris Allen – Falling Slowly (American Idol [HQ] en Yahoo! Video

Spread the word. Do it.

It’s also Cinco de Mayo. And 5 contestants remain. This better mean Kara DioGuardi attempts counting. Alas. There just has to be a group medley of Sinatra songs, but since Siobhan Mangus went home last week, it gives the remaining 4 guys to start things off with Lady is a Tramp to introduce Crystal, the contestant to which all group sing shit shows are centered upon. But since there are so few left, the others get to actually do a bit of soloing.

Everyone wore tuxedos, some with ties, some without. They were dressed for a football game with Tommy Wiseau. Big Mike wore another tiny hat. They came. They “sang.” The entire Rat Pack rolled over in their respective graves.

Next week, Jamie Foxx is returning as a mentor for Movie Theme Week. Tarantino wouldn’t have anything to do with this crop of kiddies, and Idol was able to get Harry this year, so Jamie Foxx gets bumped to Movie Song Week. Ooooh…isn’t it time for the contestants to sing TWO songs? Will they be performing duets again this season?

THE GREATEST IDOL FORD COMMERCIAL EVER MADE

Picture it: A Parisian cafe. A man (Lee DeWyze) spies a woman (Crystal Bowersox) as she examines her glove. Tres bien! The man almost trips over a large black man wearing a beret (They edited out the Kangol logo) making googly eyes at his two tiny dogs (what, no poodles?). A teenager-in-scarf (Aaron Kelly) rides by on a bike, nearly knocking out the man-in-love. After his near-collision with the teenager, our hero then almost collides with the waiter (Casey James) as he carries a tray of three cappuccinos, which must all be for the woman, as she is the only one sitting in the cafe. She stands as the man finally approaches her, or perhaps she just wants her three frothy beverages. They look longingly at each other once more before the man walks over. Oh burn. He walks right past her. The man was just staring at his lime green Ford Fiesta this entire time. He wipes a smudge from the Fiesta logo on the rear, tells it he will made mad passionate love to it when he arrives back at his arondissement, as our heroine looks sad. But the waiter is still there, and he did not spill those three cappuccinos the woman ordered. And he smiles her. The man drives off in his little green car. The bow-tied waiter and the woman begin to talk about life, liberty and equality. The effervescent large black man who is not Andre Leon Talley strolls off with his two pugs. The teenager riding his bike to ecole was hit by the man driving the little green car and died at the scene.

Ok. I totally made the very last part up. However, this minute-long, existential gem shot on a deserted sound stage gem aptly explained the dynamics of the final 5 contestants like nothing we’ve ever seen. The lovely heroine waiting at the cafe for her prince/record contract. The confident hero. The inconsequential happy-go-lucky large black man. The inconsequential teenager just making his way through it all on his bike. And then the waiter. The mere waiter who gets the girl, but is not the hero because he is a lowly cafe waiter with a Metro pass and does not drive off in the car. This explains everything.

More filler ensues, namely just another excuse to play The Black Eyed Peas’ I Gotta Feeling. What the Idols did pre-Idol is compared with what they are doing now. It’s fairly lame, except frauen are now squeeing after seeing Lee DeWheezy roll out of bed to the sound of his alarm clock. I’m just THRILLED we are shown my old buddies — the judges’ rehearsal stand-ins. OH FAKE RANDY I LOVE YOU. FAKE KARA YOU ARE THE BEST. I MISS YOU ALL.

Obviously, Fake Randy is beloved by all because we are allowed to see him speak. Seacrest even tells Randy to watch his back. Uh, yeah. Because Fake Randy is so much better than REAL RANDY. This is the obvious precursor to Seacrest quizzing the contestants on whatever the hell is is Seacrest talks about. He lingers on Big Mike the longest, leading me to STILL attest it is Lynche who is going home tonight.

Lee DeWheezy goes first. He talks about getting criticized on the show, which is amusing, because it is difficult to recall a time when he was criticized. Naturally, he kind of looks like he’s kind of going to vomit. Simon blows sunshine up his ass and tells him he could win the entire thing, because frankly, the once-beloved Bowersox is too good and too smart to play their reindeer games. The powers that be now believe she is the Harrison Bergeron of American Idol.

Lady Gaga is performing Alejandro in a big black lace veil surrounded by black flowers. Naturally, she leads in with a little piano-fied Bad Romance. Lady Gaga just pocketed $250.000 for putting on some of her Saturday afternoon casual wear and bringing some of her favorite gays to the stage. Somewhere Madonna is crying and 1000 Glamberts are unable to recognize the difference between Lady Gaga’s downtown performance art meets un-ironic camp meets raw natural talent meets costuming that could poke an eye out and their lord & savior, Adam Lambert.

I fraking love this song. Please don’t judge me. I also love that a winged statue of Jesus is shooting fire. The entire Jesus contraption reminds me of this Venus rain lamp which hung in my grandmother’s living room. It fascinated me as a young child, as I could not understand why someone would deliberately hang such a thing in their home.

The next bit of filler is beautiful, as we delve deeper into Harry Connick, Jr.’s time with the contestants. Can we just have Harry be the judge and host of this whole damn thing? Maybe have Debbie the Stage Manager and Fake Randy come out and play a bit, but seriously, if we just let Harry handle this crapfest, it could become a beautiful, beautiful thing. Harry talks on the phone to the exquisite Bybee James! He tells her that her son thought he was Chris Isaak. He says he is dressed like a…

HALF-GOAT. I have no words. This is the most beautiful piece of American Idol filler ever created. This just needs to be the entire show.

The word pitchy does not exist, judges. We need to stop saying that…He’s [Casey] singing out of tune. That’s how we say it. I gotta bone to pick with these judges about that stuff.

He then proceeds to call Big Mike what I think was a fucking asshole. It was bleeped out. I just want to watch Harry Connick, Jr. do this all night. I actually just want to transcribe this entire bit because its beautiful. Its smart. Its sarcastic. Its honest. Its sweet. Its funny. Harry skewers everyone involved with the show and still manages to come off as a charming & sincere rube. I think I am falling in love.

The whole I got a baby thing. Just drop it. Big Mike, drop it for real.

Harry Connick, Jr., you make me want to hump your leg. For the first time all season, American Idol was GOOD. Because you were doing most of the talking. And you were the best fraking mentor that’s ever been on this shit show. I just feel bad you had to coach such a mediocre group, because now I can’t stop picturing you asking Matt Giraud about his mole or telling Adam Lambert to take it down an octave or 10. I’m imagining you telling David Cook’s to wipe away his smug grin. I picture you making a clad-in-yellow Brooke White burst into tears and I picture you pissed off, smoking from Jason Castro’s one-hitter as he eats a burrito over your piano.

Ok. I’ll stop now. Harry just performed And I Love Her. He was perfect. You could also see the disgust in his eyes as the swaybots did their thing. Following his performance, and after a comical dig at Ellen DeGeneres, he introduces the contestants as they perform a few of HIS songs. Holy shit, Idol. You’re forcing us to endure another GROUP SING. And I don’t even care. Because this is the greatest episode of the entire season. Who the hell cares who goes home? Harry Connick, Jr. called Casey a half-goat and told Big Mike (and Crystal, by way of editing) to can it with the baby shit.

Speaking of our beloved Idol goat, Casey James ain’t sounding too bad tonight. Neither did DeWheezy. But these are vocal tracks. Still doesn’t stop Tiny Hat Man! Big Mike solos as if he just drank a GNC protein shake full of whey and melissma. Following the performance, Seacrest has Harry tell his story about when he met Frank Sinatra. He even slips in a joke about spousal abuse. The crowd laughs nervously. Oh stop being so damn politically correct. Basically, Harry performed for Sinatra but Sinatra wasn’t really in the mood for it. When they met after his self-described dismal showing, Old Blue Eyes simply told Jill Goodacre that she was beautiful, kissed her on the lips and walked away.

This is the only evening in the history of this shit show where all I want is more filler. More Harry Connick, Jr. More Gaga. I don’t care who goes home. I just want Harry to talk about goats and how the judges don’t know shit. I just want him to make fun of the contestants more and teach them real things about composition and bad notes, you know, those things that might be helpful if they ever have actual careers in music. And I just know If we keep Harry around just a little longer, he will tell Kara DioGuardi to go to hell, I know it!

Finally down to business. Crystal on one side. Big Mike and Aaron on the other. Casey gets sent to Crystal’s side. Seacrest pulls the whole if you had to choose bit with Lee. He just hates his life right now and wants to throw up. He shoots daggers at Seacrest, shakes his head and simply says No. Surprisingly, Seacrest doesn’t push it. He saw the look of hatred in DeWheezy’s eyes. Seacrest is afraid. It is time to look at the teleprompter once more.

CRYSTAL AND GOATY JAMES ARE SAFE!!! The Bottom 2 are Big Mike and Little Aaron! TOLD YOU SO.

Awwww…and Little Aaron is sent home. Not before Big Mike whispers a few words of encouragement in his ears. Hey, I know a lot of people hated Aaron, but he’s a sweet little boy. I couldn’t even hate on the kid. I hate on almost everybody. Did you ever think this kid would make it to #5? Hell no. I think he’s even pretty happy with his Idol journey. Sure, he looks a little sad now, but he knew he wasn’t gonna win the whole damn thing. For a tiny 17-year-old from nowhere Pennsylvania, he’s a pretty grounded kid. Now he can go back to high school and work on photography, his other great love. And maybe fly on more airplanes. Maybe he’ll get a little country album deal out of the whole damn thing. I just can’t hate on Little Aaron. Sorry. Can’t do it.

But most importantly…

Casey is safe. Go buy a t-shirt. (And then thank Goatlove himself for setting up the little shop. Because Goatlove is an actual person. And then thank Unravel101 for hooking me up with this nifty little design.)

Oh, and Harry Connick, Jr. I miss you already. How about you talk to your agent and see if he can get you a multiepisode arc in Season 4 of Mad Men. Its filming right now. You. Don Draper. Wearing suits and appropriately-sized hats for your handsome appropriately-sized heads. Make it happen, Harry, make it happen.

Spread the word. Do it.

Tonight is Frank Sinatra night on American Idol. Harry Connick, Jr. even came over to help, as Old Blue Eyes has been dead since 1998. It might be an alright show, except for the fact its American Idol and this year’s contestants may very well have no soul and have chosen the most stereotypical Sinatra songs of all time — outside of New York, New York and My Way, the latter of which Siobhan Magnus had planned on wrecking had she made it to the Top 5.

Seacrest is wrong about one thing. Sinatra’s popularity DID wane during his illustrious career. His Oscar-winning role (Best Supporting Actor) in From Here to Eternity was largely viewed as a comeback for the singer. But you know what hasn’t waned? Harry Connick, Jr.’s looks. The man ages magically. (Wait. He’s only 42. Oh well, he’s still aging beautifully.)

(But if you’re wondering why Harry Connick, Jr. is appearing on American Idol, its because his most-recent album, Your Songs, was made with Satan’s Grandpa himself, Clive Davis.) I have owned only one Harry Connick, Jr. album. Blue Light, Red Light. Buy it. I listened to that CD every night (although sometimes, I did play a little Metallica) as I lie in bed during my entire eighth and ninth grades. I also own several Sinatra albums and have since…childhood.

(Of course Sinatra + Connick isn’t necessarily sweet, sweet melodic kismet when American Idol is factored into the equation.)

Harry, one of New Orleans’ most favorite sons, created the entire arrangements and composition for each contestant. They’re even gonna be backed by members of his own band. And Harry! On piano! Before we kick off tonight’s show — 10 minutes in — with Aaron Kelly’s Fly Me to the Moon, I almost want to believe that Harry Connick, Jr. is going to bring something to life in the final five contestants, and I will realize their enormous talents only with his help. Then I think back to something my mother has often told me. Something about not being able to polish a turd, was it?

Nancy and Tina Sinatra brought Simon one of Frank’s monogrammed hankies. Oh, if those hankies could talk…do you think that hankie wiped vomit off Dean Martin’s chin at the Sands? Because that would be sick. (In a good way.)

Aaron Kelly
Fly Me to the Moon

Since little Aaron is singing another song about the magic of being in love, let’s hope he tells Kara DioGuardi that its all about his childhood dream of becoming an astronaut. Just seeing a few seconds of Harry with Aaron Kelly may ensure he is my favorite mentor ever. He’s trying to teach them things about real music stuff! And he’s charming! And funny! I forgot how much I used to love Harry Connick, Jr.

Aaron got a step 1 spray-on tan and combed his hair back. He’s wearing a tie. He sort of really looks like bizarro world tween Edward Norton now. Or maybe he’s auditioning for some remake of Newsies? Season 9′s little puppy dog that could is predictable in his puppy-like offering of the classic, and some of his natural country twang pops out here and there. He’s not necessarily bombastic, but it’s very bobbysoxer. Very innocent. Smooth? Cool like Frank? Not so much. Atrocious, not really. But I’m a bit confused why Randy and Ellen think it was THAT good. Kara tells him it wasn’t as good as last week, but he was good, and about the same height as Frank Sinatra. Simon is still smiling and marveling at his hankie and believes Aaron will stick around because people like him.

Are the judges complimenting little puppy dog Aaron to ensure he goes home this week? Will they pull more of the same on Michael Lynche? And is the #2 performance spot for Casey James Idol’s way of attempting to send him home, because guess what? Lee DeWheezy sings in the pimp spot tonight — although such placement did nothing for Siobhan Magnus last week. Perhaps its just difficult to decide who sucks the most as the list gets shorter.

Casey James
Blue Skies

This week will be the first time Casey takes the Idol stage without a guitar. (And since Harry said he wrote and composed the arrangements, perhaps Casey it explains why Casey “messaged” such things yesterday afternoon.) It seems Casey has been listening to Harry for his entire life. He likes that Casey is using the song as a device to create a bluesy vibe, because that’s what he feels, and sometimes, its not all about the lyrics.

Casey’s hair is slicked back in a pony tail tonight, and he, too, has classed things up a bit with an vest and button-down. This may be a smart move on Casey’s part, as he doesn’t look unlike Brad Pitt circa 1995. Some of the notes are a little iffy, and often, he sounds as if he’s speaking the lyrics. The goat vibrato comes roaring in during a few parts. It was a bit all over the place, but the final note sounded more than decent. Come on…vocals aren’t this dude’s strongest suit, ya know? He needs the guitar. Britney and Madonna need autotune, but they still get work. But truth be told, the performance started off rather nicely, only to derail completely once he hit the bridge.

Randy and Ellen hated it. Ellen makes another joke about there being issues with the piano. Kara tells him she’s glad she heard him hold a few notes for the first time ever, but that he sounded like a lamb in his vibrato. First off, bitch. It’s a goat. Second, I hate you more when you agree with me, so go back to being the ignorant pig you are. (Of course, you’ll do this by the next singer so I’m not worried.) Just before Simon is about to speak, I notice Casey’s exquisite mother sitting behind him. Momma is enraged, throwing an elegant lady fit in her shimmering houndstooth minidress, twinkling gilded creme eye shadow and sassy brass chandelier earrings. Simon isn’t as mean as everyone else because he’s still glowing over his Sinatra hankie. Harry thinks he sounded better in rehearsal and that its really hard to hear up there. Because Harry Connick, Jr. is a nice guy. (I hear he also loves New Orleans.)

I sort of feel bad for Casey for whatever reason. If I was a tard, I would send him a Goat Love t-shirt. And Anthony Hopkins is there?!

This is funny, considering I just said Casey should try and play up the whole Brad Pitt circa 1995 thing, which reminded me of how I skipped school to see Legends of the Fall. A most terrible movie, yes, but obviously I thought of the stroke-addled Anthony Hopkins on his porch with his shotgun and boom! He’s in the audience. And I begin to wonder why tonight’s Idol has done nothing to take me back to my teenage years, and whether or not it is a subconscious result to the college-aged girl behind the counter of Pavement Coffee House/Cafe calling me ma’am this evening when I stopped in with the intention of buying a sandwich. I had to leave. She asked, are you ready to order, ma’am, or something to that effect. I said no. I was shocked. Only Central American immigrants have ever called me ma’am.

Crystal Bowersox
Summer Wind

Harry Connick, Jr. continues his brigade of being the greatest-ever Idol mentor upon meeting with Crystal Bowersox. Tonight, Crystal also must perform without the safety of an instrument — and in an evening gown. She looks quite lovely. The horn section is loud, sure, but its a horn section. Although Crystal isn’t quite used to singing in this style, her performance is subtly restrained, yet still turns on the torch singer charm.

Randy called it sleepy. Ellen thinks she mumbled. Shit-For-Brains says she kind of liked it because Crystal has strong phrasing. Simon calls it indulgent. Huh? Summer Wind is not one of the most showy of Sinatra’s songs, but Crystal was easily the strongest performer of the night. Granted, she’s the usually the strongest performer of the evening, but each judge threw out the stereotypical critiques from the Idol wheelhouse with rapid-fire succession and hey, we’re coming into crunch time. Last week begun the gradual stoppage of blowing smoke up Crystal’s ass, which is rather bizarre when she’s delivered two very fine performances. But this is American Idol, and frankly, psychological fuckery & manipulation/de-pimpage of the one they proclaimed the front runner all season long, that sort of thing, well, it always begins around now. Or is it just because she’s been the best all season long, is she to be judged differently — and now Lee DeWheezy is being primed as the coming-up-from-behind guy…

Crystal disagrees with the judges. And she says so. (Crystal likely regrets going on this ridiculous show every single day.)

To me its a sweet love story, and you don’t sing it very big like that.

This is one of those times when you should talk back to the judges.

I don’t think I should sing really big notes just because I’m on American Idol.

GO CRYSTAL! (Again, more proof that she had never before watched this shit show before auditioning.)

Michael Lynche
The Way You Look Tonight

One of the biggest examples of a beautiful love song that’s been played out for years is The Way You Look Tonight. This song, and Etta James’ At Last, are now in the god-awful category of hammy wedding songs, just because so many people use them. Granted, I totally admit to whooping after Kris Allen’s performance of this same song last season. But I was THERE, dammit. (I was caught up in the moment and not sure what I should do because I was standing in that goddamn PIT, and I had no idea what I was supposed to do, and there were scary women surrounding me on one side — one of which looked like she was going to cut me because I didn’t like Danny Gokey.)

And if there’s anyone soulless and hammy, its Michael Lynche. Technically, he is a solid singer. He’s also a very large man in a very little hat. Big Mike sings this song exactly the way you knew he was going to sing this song. Big Mike is never pitchy. He is just always…Big Mike.

Randy loses his shit, because Randy has his finger on the pulse of what is relevant and current in today’s music world. Sure, sure. It was…good? Big Mike is never bad. He’s just…boring. He’s the cuddly large black dude. He’s been typecast forever. Ellen makes a joke about Harry’s organ, because this is part of her friendly, non-threatening lesbian schtick. (I don’t really care what the judges are saying at this point, as long as the cameras keep showing Casey James’ gorgeous, delicate flower of a goat momma.) Simon tells him he’s the best of the night. Again, what does the best really mean this season?

Tonight’s episode is all sorts of boring, except for when Harry Connick, Jr. is talking. I’m more excited Casey James is the new VFTW pick, as a vote for Casey is a vote for those who love goats. GOAT FOR THE WORST, HATERS!

Lee DeWyze
That’s Life

Yo, DeWheezy, you basically just had the greatest moment of your life, you know that? A former Victoria’s Secret model named Jill Goodacre told her husband, Harry Connick, Jr., that you’re hot. And he just called you a never version of himself (he’s a nice guy, of course). It is all downhill from here, dude. You have no idea what you’re in for once you hit that Idol tour.

This might have been Lee’s best performance to date, as he was less pitchy than usual. Ellen thinks if this was the last night of competition, he would have won it all. Shit-For-Brains got the glint in her eyes and took a deep breath. Now she wants to bang him. Casey James is dead to her. Crystal de-pimpage has begun…Lee is “picking up steam.” Yeah, yeah, yeah. We know the drill. Perhaps I should commend Idol, however, they’ve just thrown in the towel. A female winner is impossible on a show decided upon by menopausal matrons speed-texting in the midst of a hot flash. Essentially, they tell DeWheezy he will win the whole damn thing. He still looks like he’s gonna vomit.

I’m gonna go take a bath, listen to some Harry Connick, Jr., and reflect upon my lost youth, as well as another lost hour of my (still relatively) young life. But I might throw a few votes Casey James’ way, mainly because if sticks around, my Goat Love t-shirt will be slightly cooler than it already is. The judges clearly want Aaron and Casey to go home, and they’re now humping Lee over Crystal and priming Big Mike for a #3 finish so it does not appear as if their save was all for naught. Different season. Same show. Same old shit.

However, tonight’s GOLD star does not go to Harry. It goes to my golden angel of houndstooth heaven. Come Fly With Me, baby.

Spread the word. Do it.

Alas. Shit happens. And sadly, tonight’s pimp spot goes to this season’s resident screecher, Siobhan Magnus. But I guess if you’re doing a night where Shania Twain provides the songbook & mentoring duties, its going to have to be when there’s only six contestants left, as you might only be able to name six Shania Twain songs if asked. Although I will admit a couple of things — I totally owned The Woman In Me and I watched the Biography on Shania Twain a couple of years back and after those two hours, I had a new found respect and admiration for the determined Canadian gal who got to where she is by actually working very, very, very hard and supporting her siblings along the way.

Shania is gorgeous. Still is. So it pains me that she appears to be trying for a Jackie Collins sort of look. And hey, I love Jackie and worship her sister Joan Collins, but you know, Shania…I thought the ridiculous crushed velvet and sequins were left firmly where they belong in 1998.

Lee DeWyze
Still The One

Lee gets an automatic 50-point deduction for choosing Twain’s worst song. Still The One is the staple of every horrible wedding you’ve ever been to. It’s the staple first dance of anyone who gets married and lacks a personality or soul. It’s a grating song, so its not like soulless people getting married ruined it, a la Etta James’ At Last, but Still The One screams David’s Bridal bridesmaid gowns awash in pukey soulless-lavender pathos as their wearers get teary eyed because not only are their dresses and updos too tight, but their friend is getting married and they are not. So they toss back yet another white zinfindel in that nondescript function hall somewhere off Highway K in St. Charles, MO.

If you’re still reading and I haven’t offended you because I described your wedding reception, let’s check out the rest. Lee DeWyze is David Cook lite with an odd, Danny Gokey twist. Perhaps its the looks or the register? While Lee entertains me every week because he always looks miserable and as if he is about to blow chunks, there has been nary a shred of evidence leading one to believe this guy could be a huge star. Lee’s performances are nearly always pitchy. When he goes for that gutteral sound, it almost seems a bit forced, and he tends to spin out of control into goat vibrato territory before recovering. It’s not terrible, as in some ways, its an improvement over a horrible song, but does it reach out and grab you?

David Cook may not be much different from any generic pop-rock singer out there, only time will tell. But its odd when I listen to Lee and think to myself, what would this sound like if David Cook sang it? Randy kicks things off by telling Lee Still The One is one of his all-time favorite songs. Why oh why does this not surprise me? In Randy’s world, an obscure artist is Lisa Lisa (and the Cult Jam). Randy also gets to say pitchy, and then tell Lee that he made it his own. Ellen digs him and tells him he couldn’t look cuter because this just enhances her friendly-lesbian cred across the U. S. of A. Kara DioGuardi tries to create a moment for herself by referencing just how far we’ve come, and once again, Simon simply dials it him by offering him any opinion of real substance.

Michael Lynche
It Only Hurts When I’m Breathing

Big Mike is a technically-gifted performer, so its difficult not to just wish he would do something genius. But he’s also a bit of a cheeseball, a friendly chap, no doubt, but somewhat hammy and given his Idol performances, a bit lackluster when it comes to displaying any definitive sign of originality. Shania sort of tells him the same thing, but…in her nice little Shania way, of course.

I’m not familiar with the song, but it fits Big Mike quite well. It fits nicely with his R&B tendencies, and I don’t totally hate it. But there’s just always something missing? And that something missing cannot be cured by a nearly spot-on falsetto. (Yo. Who is Shania’s blond friend?) Randy, naturally, because he likes putting people in boxes, thinks Lynche has found his vibe or something. Big Mike reminds Ellen of Luther Vandross, causing me to wonder whether or not anyone ever tells a white guy he reminds them of Luther Vandross…of course, I was thinking he was a big Vandrosstic during his performance. Kara utters out some scripted shit about Shania connecting with the music, still trying for her moment. Simon thinks he was wet. And girlish or something. Simon associates wet with girly. I could go there, but…

Shania cried a little big when Big Mike sang. It is interesting to note Lynche’s vocals seem to have garnered enthusiasm from several of this year’s mentors, including Twain and Adam Lambert.

Casey James
Don’t

Another song I’m not quite familiar with, but Casey admits he didn’t show anyone anything new last week. I don’t know if this is different per se, and it gets a little goat-like here and there, but it may be the most distinct and genuinely moving performance thus far. I feels a bit heartfelt, in fact. It was…good! Give Casey James more songs about breakups. And then release some of that body from his flaxen locks o’ Texas.

Randy says he has something new in his wheelhouse. Randy got that word from his word-of-the-day desktop calendar last fall. Randy thinks it was his best performance so far.

Artists don’t hide the good, the bad, the ugly. They show it all.

Kara. Shut up. Quit trying to make fetch happen! Jesus christ, can you imagine spending an evening in a contained space with Tyra Banks and Kara DioGuardi? That just crossed my mind for whatever reason, anyway…Simon agrees with Randy about it being Casey’s best performance. He even tells Casey to go down and kiss Shania. That’s my boy, Simon. Turn the knife a little deeper in the back of the bitch sitting next to you. PAULA SITS THERE DAMMIT.

Crystal Bowersox
No One Needs To Know

Crystal has been a fan of Shania since childhood, which is really not shocking, given Shania’s astounding success and songwriting/guitar-strumming prowess. Obviously, Crystal had Shania sign her guitar, most likely with one of those XXXXXXXL Sharpies over Miley Cyrus’ signature. Its safe to assume Crystal has a very diverse musical taste, given that she’s an actual musician. Of course, only two of the remaining contestants have not played instruments on the show, so I guess the others might be kind of musician-like, too.

Crystal is wearing a mini-dress, which leads me to believe Idol is trying to sex Crystal up. Seacrest is kind of douchey and references Shania’s big shiny white teeth to Crystal when she speaks highly about her glowing aura. I would like to believe Seacrest is a douche, but I think he just might say things without thinking. We also learn Crystal has a boyfriend she wants to man-up and give her a ring one day. Oh honey, as long as you don’t wear David’s Bridal.

Shania is big on getting the contestants to think about how the song applies to their lives. This makes me like Shania a little bit more, as this is the single most important element in any sort of performance.

Crystal’s take one of Shania’s fluffiest of hits is cutesy in its own little Crystal Bowersox way. Flanked by four musicians, she also benefits from not having the atrocious backup singers. The judges think she’s good, but…its not their favorite performance. Crystal talks over Kara, which I would typically advocate, but it kind of rubs me kind of the wrong way because she describes her other performances as being big and that this one was not. Bigger isn’t always bigger. Sure, I wholeheartedly agree with her, but you know…hell, I don’t know. Are they tearing her down a bit to “shake up” the competition? Simon says she has a lack of conviction this week and talks about a coffee shop. Yeah. I think that’s what they’re trying to do, make Crystal seem semi-vulnerable. Yawn. Damn. My lack of Tivo made it impossible for me to get a decent shot of her boyfriend’s t-shirt which may be one of the most subtly witty and endearing calls to action I have ever witnessed in the Idol studio audience.

Aaron Kelly
It’s In The Way

The longer Aaron survives in the competition, the more everyone hates him. This makes me feel bad for Aaron for whatever reason, because no matter how trite his song choices may be, or how amusing it his to watch him circle the microphone around his mouth while singing, I still can’t hate on this kid. It would be like kicking a defenseless puppy dog. Aaron delivers a decent vocal on a very-Aaron song. He is adept at phrasing and all that good stuff.

Randy says wheelhouse again. That desktop calendar is really expanding his horizons. Ellen talks about how its going to be really hard this week, you know, to send anyone home. Because everyone assumes Aaron will be going home, and hey, sixth place wouldn’t be a bad finish for the now-17-year-old kid. He also changed the words in the song so they wouldn’t say make love because he was dedicating it to his mom. AWWWWWW…The judges universally praise him, as to lull his fans into a false sense of security so we all wave him adieu tomorrow evening.

Siobhan Magnus
Any Man of Mine

Taking one of Shania’s biggest hits, Siobhan starts off decent, granted she’s wearing a shredded up Laura Ashley bedspread, it kind of works. Towards the middle, however, after she did some lap around the audience, Siobhan basically drives off a cliff. The arrangement is terrible and she starts going in and out of pitch. Oh. And the last 20 seconds were pure screeching. At one point, she sounded exactly like Adam Lambert, and I likely noticed this because I was typing in another window. What the hell, Siobhan? That could have been an almost-enjoyable song and then you had to screech in a song which was never meant for such vocal theatrics, regardless of how you arrange it. What was the point? Because you could? And then when she recovers, still looking like a crazed medieval beast who just pillaged your serfdom and feasted on your babies, she launches into yet MORE vocal gymnastics. I half expect her head to spin around as she spews projectile green vomit upon the backup singers, the judges and Seacrest.

Randy thinks its awesome. Because Randy would think such a cacophony of village ravaging is as awesome as Journey, Gladys Knight and Mariah all rolled up into one. Especially because she’s dressed all punk-country.

Way to pull the Shania Twain into the station.

Ellen, that was stupid. But I kind of smiled. I have no idea why, but I did.

GUESS WHO’S BACK???

Kara, why can’t the spirits from the Indian burial ground underneath your house trap you in the static of my TV forever?

Oh, Siobhan, I am trying so damn hard to like you. I want to, I really, really do. Can’t you just stop screeching? Hey, at least Simon mentioned it. Someone needed to, because really, sweetheart. It was that bad.

Bottom 3? Might be tough this week, but I’m gonna go out on a limb and say:

Lee DeWyze
Michael Lynche
Aaron Kelly

Going home? Aaron or Big Mike. Neither one of them were bad, but only 6 contestants remain. Of course, Casey James’ wavy hair could signal the end of days for him, too — keeping up with the tradition of Idol’s resident long-haired skeeve Constantine Maroulis. Hey, I said he should have laid off on scrunching his natural curls.

Spread the word. Do it.

Casey James
Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow

Casey begins and I pause the DVR because sometimes the sound goes all funky. Wait. Or is this that Geico ad with Peter Frampton?

This week’s mentor, Alicia Keys, likes Casey. That’s about all I remember from the mentoring session. Let’s start with the positive — Casey James is likely the best guitarist to ever vie for the Idol crown. But his vocals? Uh…Dude. He sounded like Peter Frampton using a voice box at times. Casey James was Casey James, the guy playing guitar and yelling into the mic at the bar down the street. Its unimaginative. Its unoriginal. Its utterly forgettable.

The judges tell him to step it up. Because Kara DioGuardi can never let anything go, she feels the need to invoke his Jealous Guy performance from two weeks ago. Shut your trap, Shit-For-Brains. You have never had a crew of faux-guitar wielding fans cheering you on from the audience? Yeah, I thought so. You don’t even have fans. Zip it. Simon wasn’t into it, either. When Ryan asks Casey if he expected such a critique, he smiled and said, of course. Casey is learning so much from Tim Urban, the Little Engine that Could.

Casey is also still a lot taller than Seacrest.

During the commercial break, Randy Jackson and Kara DioGuardi tell us how to be more green. I feel the sudden urge to club a few hundred baby seals and fill up the Grand Canyon with used cooking oil and deep fry 10 Billion turkeys.

Lee DeWyze
The Boxer

The Simon & Garfunkel classic is a sentimental one for me, so really dude, don’t screw it up. Oh wait. That’s a lot to ask, this is American Idol. Lee gets a bit shouty in several parts, instantly taking me back to that Hinder shit he did during the semifinals. Dude. Don’t scream the li-li-lis. It wasn’t even close to Simon. Or Garfunkel’s third cousin, but it was good in it’s own little way. The orchestra wasn’t bad. The Swaybots should be shot. Lee’s vocal works with it, appropriately gritty in most parts, but stage presence-DeWyze (groan), this guy just needs to step it up. He is coming around, but there is still something slightly awkward, something shy about him which is not translating in the endearing awkward and shy kind of way. Its too timid. It’s hard not to get the impression that he’s holding back and still might blow chunks on stage if the conditions are favorable for puking.

Lee could win this whole damn thing, as it will likely be Crystal Bowersox and him in the finale, but while watching him, it was difficult not to wonder how David Cook would do it. And its difficult not to think of Lee DeWyze as an American Idol guitar-driven-power-pop-rock retread.

Did somebody say MURDER??

Seacrest IS right. A true American Idol IS in the house. It’s CAPTAIN SULLY! Don’t even tell me you wouldn’t hump that man’s leg if you had the chance. Because I would. And so would you. Don’t even fraking deny it.

Tim Urban
Better Days

Once again, the mentor must tell Tim Urban to feel the words. Sorry, Alicia, they don’t teach you that in homeschool. It’s an excellent song choice for Tim Urban, as the Goo Goo Dolls’ John Rzeznik isn’t necessarily the strongest of singers. At times, Timmy is a little pitchy, but the song is entirely in his range. The song itself is utterly forgettable and there are no standout moments. Timmy may be in danger of going home with a third-place performance slot and many people being aghast at his staying power.

Randy thinks the Goo Goo Dolls is a great band with an amazing singer. Shocking, ain’t it? Ellen describes him as the Soup of the Day — sometimes she likes him, sometimes she doesn’t. The judges feel an overall malaise for Timmeh. Essentially, they really, really want him to go home.

Aaron Kelly
I Believe I Can Fly

Another contestant many have believe has worn out his welcome is Aaron Kelly, who has a particular knack of selecting songs done at least 6000 times on the show. One of the most trecly ballads of all time, originally sung by a man who just wanted to piss on you, one wonders what this wholesome, sweet, alternative universe teenage Edward Norton lookalike can do with it that hasn’t been done before.

Vocally, Aaron’s I Believe I Can Fly is solid. Once he breaks through his timidness, he is spot on for at least 95% of the song. Randy is right about the arrangement — it sucked. But I Believe I Can Fly always sucks, so, you know…Simon is absolutely correct in his assessment that this is nothing anyone would want to hear on the radio, but that the vocals were good. He should basically just say it was good on American Idol.

Aaron has sung this song since he was five. Oh, to peek into his iTunes library.

Siobhan Magnus
When You Believe

Oh, Siobhan. I really want to like you. Your quirky Aspberger’s way would likely endear me to you if I happened to wander into that glassblowing place you work at on Cape Cod, or if I met you while waiting in line for a port-a-potty at Burning Man. But then you sing, and you make me hate you. Because you screech. And you trade in your alleged quirkiness and originality as soon as you hit the stage. For chrissake, you’re singing a dull Whitney Houston & Mariah Carey duet from a fraking Disney cartoon. Just because you look like a goddamned cockatoo carcus stuck in the grill of a Mack truck does not mean you are an edgy ingenue. A reader once quoted Fight Club in regards to you, and its a most spot-on assessment.

You are not special. You are not a beautiful or unique snowflake. You’re the same decaying organic matter as everything else.

Can’t we just get Captain Sully to stand up there and smile? Because I would vote for that shit. Siobhan’s vocals are fine, belting out those big notes left and right. Yawn. There is no soul. There is no emotions. And I want to fall asleep. Edward Gorey called and he wants his tattoo back. I don’t care how different your friends look from the rest of the people in the audience, you bore me to tears.

Sadly this is one of those performances where Kara DioGuardi says everything I was thinking. I hate her more on those rare occasions (like once an episode) where she makes complete sense and I actually want to high five her. Simon basically tells her those “leaves” make her look one of those Avatards who are probably already in line waiting to buy the Blu-Ray disc. After being met with essentially an across-the-board meh critique from the judges, Siobhan starts talking about how the song means so much to her and she wasn’t going to let Whitney and Mariah scare her away from doing it. Yeah, ok. Buh-bye now.

You are not special. You are not a beautiful or unique snowflake. You’re the same decaying organic matter as everything else.

Michael Lynche
Hero

Michael Lynche is singing Nickelback. Nickelback. Yup, Nickelback. The band that makes Hoobastank look cutting edge. Big Mike thinks this song speaks to everyone, oh, and that it was also on some list of 200 songs he made in case he ever made it to American Idol. Alicia Keys, although exquisitely gorgeous with quite possibly the most beautiful skin of anyone I’ve ever seen, is sadly, a rather useless mentor. It would almost be beneficial to see longer cuts from their mentoring session?

Big Mike points at the audience a lot. Sure, his arrangement is different from the original. And he has sweaty pits. The last note is sudden, as the song never really built into much of anything. It would climb up into something, and then fall. It’s almost as if the majority of it is the chorus, but it doesn’t really get there. Was it good? It didn’t really do it for me, but it was refreshing to see this guy do something other than the cheesy lullabies.

Kara almost made sense again, however, she then went into Shit-For-Brains mode.

You don’t have the tone for that voice.

Huh? Guess it wasn’t Studio 57 enough for her. She then ends her critique with a very twat-like Sorry…ooops? Thank flying spaghetti monster. It feels so much better when I hate Kara DioGuardi.

(Commercial break. Jennifer Hudson is beautiful. Absolfuckinglutely gorgeous. That is all. Oh. And Glee should die. Thank you.)

Crystal Bowersox
People Get Ready

Crystal is the best, no doubt about it. But its a little irksome to see her in the pimp spot yet again, even if she is finally losing the safety net of her guitar. During her time with Keys, she tells her she’s just so thankful for everything in her life right now. I assume Ryan Seacrest is already claiming credit for this admission.

Crystal, who has traded in her guitar for deep cleavage and is obviously self-conscious about it, or perhaps its the lack of a guitar, as she has a difficult time not fussing with her neckline, or moving her other hand in time with the song. Yes, she is vocally perfect — she’s the most consistent performer of the bunch — until she seemingly breaks down as the song comes to a close. Literally breaks down…in tears…is Ms. Bowersox tiring of Idol? Of being the star of every Ryan Seacrest’s self-affirming Stuart Smalley stories? Did she just really like not showing cleavage? It is honestly beginning to look like this girl had no idea what she signed up for — she should have some excellent stories to tell when she’s finally out of her contract, whenever that could be. Looks like the poor thing realized she sold her soul to feed her kid.

But how cool is her mic stand? Siobhan should learn from Ms. Bowersox about the ways one can show they’re a bonafide, quasi-original snowflake in much more subtle ways.

I assume the judges will praise the frak out of her performance, but my DVR cut off, and nary an Ellen or a Randy had mentioned the crying. But hey, no one can argue it wasn’t the greatest amount of actual emotion we’ve seen infused into a performance this season.

Tonight’s performances are already forgotten, but here’s my stab at tomorrow’s Bottom 3:

Will be: Casey James, Tim Urban, Aaron Kelly
Should be: Casey James, Tim Urban, Siobhan Magnus

(Obviously, Timmy CANNOT go home. So go vote or something.)

Spread the word. Do it.