Recently in American Idol Category

Feeling desperate? Suffer from blindness? Deafness? Lacking any senses in particular? Well, if you have a few extra bucks, this might be just what you need to spice up your life: a date with American Idol's Constantine Maroulis, the living incarnation of baklava (and just as sticky!). It's an opportunity too wonderful/smarmy to pass up! Just imagine yourself at dinner, staring into those beady little eyes of his, two dreamy bags puffing out underneath like magnificent pillows of gorgeousness. He runs his hand through his greasy, unwashed hair and then caresses your face, leaving an oily smear of grandeur along your cheek. While you reach for your napkin, you notice his shirt is unbuttoned to the navel, revealing a hirsute series of flab rolls piled atop each other like a werewolf version of the Michelin Man. It's damn near impossible to look away from this hairy ode to jiggles, but then there's that smile. That beautiful, mousy smile. Who needs an upper lip when you've got a chin that resembles a perfectly sculpted anus? He has the total package.

And all you have to do is pay over $2,000 for the experience. Yes, this dream date is being auctioned off as part of the charity fundraiser (emphasis on charity), Rock Against Diabetes. The winner will get to accompany Constantine to the event, which will be hosted by -- you guessed it -- Dick Donato (a.k.a. Evel Dick of Big Brother 8). Constantine and Dick on the same date? And you out $2,000? Sounds like the best night ever!

If for some reason this sounds appetizing to you, then a) you may be suffering from a brain tumor, and b) feel free to get more information here. My suggestion: donate to the cause, forgo the douchebag has-beens.

• Date with Constantine Maroulis currently being auctioned for $2,000 [Reality Blurred]

Last night, I complained that the fix was in for David Archuleta to win American Idol, but how wrong I was. In an instant (precisely one instant after my Tivo cut off, grrr), this entire season was redeemed when relative underdog David Cook swooped in and took the victory. I let out a celebratory "YES!" and for the first time in several seasons, I was pleased with the Idol coronation.

All season long, I resisted jumping on the Cook bandwagon. I lamented his unfortunate hair stylings (still do), cited a lack of authenticity, and generally mocked his emo trappings. But ultimately, in the finale, he won me over, and heck, better late than never. On Tuesday night, he stepped up and made his claim to the stage, and clearly, America responded.

Photo via rickey.org

I don't know why, but for some reason the people behind American Idol want David Archuleta to win. Maybe they're hoping his presence will boost ticket sales for the summer tour. Maybe they're trying to gain a larger share of the adult contemporary market. Or maybe they're just plain loco. But the simple truth remains that lil' Davey, while technically a great vocalist, is certainly no star.

And yet on tonight's final performance show, the judges gave him near unanimous praise. Huh? Were they hearing the same sounds? Maybe the acoustics in the new Nokia Theater venue screwed with their ears because as far as I could tell from my cozy seat in the Hollywood Hills, David Archuleta was a veritable snooze-fest. Whereas David Cook seemed to command the stage unlike ever before, David Archuleta seemed to get swallowed up in it. As you can imagine, I was astounded when Simon said all three rounds went to the boy wonder. Let the headscratching commence.

Sent from a secret operative just seconds ago...

Well, the last chance we had at any real drama for this season of American Idol went out the window Wednesday night when Syesha was unceremoniously bumped from the Final Two. I'm sure no one was more surprised than she. After all, with that nagging sense of entitlement she's had all season, she probably thought she'd actually wrapped this thing up back in week one. I'm shocked she didn't tell Ryan last night, "YOU MEAN THERE'S ANOTHER WEEK? I THOUGHT I ALREADY WON! You're silly, Ryan."

Alas, Syesha now must enter her post-Idol life as a coulda-been contender, but even if we never hear from her again, we'll always know that she is — and always will be — a STAR!

Pictures of her trip home after the jump...

Raise your hand if you were a little underwhelmed by last night's penultimate performance show of American Idol. Yeah, me too. If anything, this final trio of singers underscored what we've feared for some weeks now: this season's crop, while overall more talented than last year's bunch, has absolutely no personality whatsoever. Syesha has tried her darndest to inject some life into the proceedings, and I'm sure if you ask her, she'd be shocked to learn she's anything less than magnetic, but no matter how many times she tells herself in the mirror "I'm a STAR!" even she can't spice up this increasingly bland go-around.

Maybe Fox has given up on these kids. That would explain why the producers didn't even bother showing more than three or four seconds of each Idol's homecoming (either that or they're saving the bits for tonight's results show). From what we could tell, David Archuleta had a swell time meeting the Salt Lake City mayor and carnie-esque mustache (seriously? You're an elected official? Are you trying to make SLC look even crazier?). David Cook meanwhile spent his time hangin' with the anchors of his local Fox affiliate. Amusingly, during their broadcast he got a text from Simon regarding the song he'd be singing. I personally loved how after Cook announced it, the female anchor just sat back and said, "REALLY." For a moment I thought she'd cross her arms and snap, "We'll see about THAT, Cowell." Of course, had it been Sue Simmons, she'd probably just have grabbed David's cell phone, thrown it off the stage, and yelled "What the FUCK are you doing?"

Then there was poor Syesha, who, as far as we could tell, spent all her time trapped in a limo. That's where she was when Randy's song selection came through. That's right: David Archuleta was at a pep rally in front of thousands of people, David Cook was broadcasting to millions, and Syesha... was alone in a dark car. Perhaps the producers were sending her a message.

Of course, while last night's episode may have been on the forgettable side, it still might have all been worth it to watch David Archuleta try (and fail) to harness Chris Brown's urban soul with the vanilla-tastic rendition of "With You." That's what Idol is all about: amazing flame-outs. Too bad it won't eject him from the comp...

"ARRGH!!! All my unrealized dreams will continue through you, my son! THROUGH YOU!!!!"

It's official: Jeff Archuleta (a.k.a. the crazy psycho stage dad of overly earnest American Idol contestant David Archuleta) has been banned from rehearsals at the venerable Fox reality behemoth. This comes after weeks of speculation that the man is a total control freak who previously required a security detail during similarly awful behavior on CBS's Star Search. Apparently the straw that broke the camel's back was when Archuleta Sr. insisted that his son include a lyric of Sean Kingston's "Beautiful Girls" during last week's performance of "Stand By Me." While the move was a nice touch on stage, it only meant grief for Fox, which then had to dole out increased royalties for the song. Oops. The plus side is that the Fox people don't have to stare at Jeff Archuletta's stupid hats all day long. The down side, however, is that poor David is now probably receiving twice the number of lashings — verbal and otherwise. It's okay though. Michael Jackson turned out pretty well, right?

For more information, check out the article here.

P.S. Could the photo above be any more perfect to sum up the bizarre Archuleta relationship? One word to the photographer: Pulitzer.

Photo via Rickey.org

So of course the one week I step away from American Idol all the controversy hits. Paula judged two songs after only hearing one! She's crazy! Oh well. It would have been fun to have blogged about that, but honestly, if given the choice between missing a classic Paula moment or listening to an hour of Neil Diamond, I'd choose the former.

Of course, Paulagate 2008 wasn't the only problem hitting Idol. News reports have emerged citing the show's massive erosion in the teen demographic. The producers have obviously gone on the defensive, saying that it's just natural audience erosion after seven years, but I think the blame should fall squarely on Nigel Lythgoe et al. for cramming this season chockful' of golden oldies. I mean, do they really expect the twelve year old girls to flock to Neil Diamond and Andrew Lloyd Weber?

This week was no exception; although, it did provide a bit of wiggle room in the "cool" department. The Idols had to take on songs from the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame catalogue, and while this did offer a huge variety, it again felt like anything but contemporary. Still, it was nice to see some Bob Marley in the mix, even if it wasn't necessarily the best execution ever.

I can't tell you how excited I was for Mariah Carey week on American Idol. It wasn't because I'm a particularly huge Mariah fan or anything — although I do like her. No, it was because the promise of hearing some youthful songs was downright intoxicating. The musical themes this season have been particularly old fashioned, and when the singers get the chance to do something exciting and contemporary, they often settle for a bland ballad. No wonder the ratings are down. Such a shame that this crop, which has been considerably more talented and charismatic than last year's bunch, can't resurrect the great Idol machine.

At least the show took a step in the right direction by finally excising the horseless Kristy Lee Cook. It's kind of too bad, actually. The poor girl came on strong(er) in recent weeks, and honestly, she was shaping up to be a surprising underdog. Considering how much of a punch line she had been in the semifinals and the Beatles weeks, I thought for sure I'd be praising her ouster. Instead, I felt kind of sad. I'd grown to like Kristy, even if her attempts at humor made Ryan look like the second coming of Will Ferrell. She showed a lot of promise in the past few performances, but the truth is that as the numbers dwindled, she failed to find a certain hook that would keep her in the running. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: she should have showed more skin. While Ruben Studdard wailed goodbye like a dying walrus, we watched Kristy rise to Idol fame, and I once again was reminded of how hot she was when she first appeared on TV. What happened, Kristy? Where did that go? Hopefully not to the glue factory with her horse. OH I KEED. I'm sure her horse is fine... and resentful. It's probably sitting in its new, awful stable, thinking to itself, "Bitch, you sold me so you could enter a competition that you didn't win? THANKS. Now I'm gonna turn into Elmer's because you can't pull some personality out of your ass."

There was seriously way too much Idol this week. A two and a half hour telethon was simply uncalled for. Did they really need to clog up our DVRs with such a bloated event that despite starting at 7:30 and despite being mostly pre-taped, still went ten minutes long? The answer is no. I'm personally not shocked that ratings for Idol Gives Back plunged nearly ten million viewers from last year. After America sat through a big, long, ponderous event with essentially no payoff in 2007, there was very little to lure us back for a second helping this time around. Honestly, the most exciting part of the whole extravaganza was when Sheila E. knocked over her cymbals. I'm thinking that next year, they've gotta include some results action in the activities because otherwise, there's very little incentive for us to watch — unless, of course, we plan on indulging in another horrendous comic skit from Robin Williams.

Hello. Celine Dion here.

Celine Dion really is hilarious. I respect what she's doing in this video (charity and whatnot), but I can't help simultaneously laughing at her voice, which sounds something like a Québécois version of one of those computerized Mac voices. Each time I hear her say "the most... heartbreaking... staTISTic," I let out a small chortle.

Gosh, there was so much American Idol this week, and very little of it was actually any good. Quite frankly, I'm a bit exhausted from it all, and I haven't even seen the results show yet (although, I know who was ejected). I'm gonna work on a little wrap up this morning, but while you wait for it — and I know you are ALL waiting for it eagerly — check out this other Idol piece I just wrote for Dipdive. Heck, I'll even give you the first paragraph here:

When American Idol aired its second annual charity special, Idol Gives Back, earlier this week, the producers seemed to go out of their way to cram as many celebrity cameos as humanly possible into the mammoth show. Yet despite an accommodating two-and-a-half hour running time, there were at least three people who still were left out of the fun. That’s right, Barack Obama, Hillary Clinton, and John McCain were nowhere to be seen, instead relegated to the proverbial sidelines that was Thursday’s results show. It sort of seemed like a bizarre snub. Surely these three Presidential candidates had enough clout to warrant a place on the main stage, but I guess Fox felt other celebrities were more valuable for fundraising needs. And honestly, I kind of agree. I mean, out of all the stars that took the stage, who would you turn away?

Continue reading 'AMERICAN IDOL' TO POLITICAL CANDIDATES: And You Are?? ».

Last night, wee Ramiele Malubay was tearfully ejected from the American Idol universe, bringing an end to my ability to call her Rambutan week in and week out. It's a joke that I think only me and my friend Jash ever laughed at, but laugh we did, and now America's little Filipino is gone — off to a rousing five year circuit of gay bars and parade floats. It was her time to go. While she was great in the semi-finals, the big stage swallowed her up, and she never quite brought the confidence or originality that her early performances promised. It's all for the best though. Rambutan was starting to get a bit too precious for my tastes -- what with her oversized t-shirts, her constant hugging, her clutched hands over her heart, and her big doe-eyes. She left at just the right time.

Of course, there's never a results show without Rambutan shedding enough tears to fill a small bathtub, and so it should be no surprise that when it finally came time for her ouster, the waterworks were more excessive than even the heartiest Danny Noriega farewell could summon. Poor Rambutan cowered for ages in the arms of Kristy Lee Cook, who just barely made the cut once again. It should be noted that Kristy took a step in the right direction last night by wearing a top that was halfway youthful. However, whatever progress she made was undermined by her pitiful attempt at humor. You know what I'm talking about: that lame "Kristy's Chair" gag she had. In case you missed it while you were fast forwarding, Kristy ambled onto the stage with a little note that said "Kristy's Chair" or "Kristy's Seat." It was intended to reflect her penchant for always landing in the bottom three, but instead, it just seemed strange. I mean, I really didn't get the joke. What was she going to do with that note? Put it on the stool? Because THAT's funny...

Photo via Rickey.org

When I found out that last night's theme on American Idol was "Songs From Your Birth Year," I was kind of excited. It looked like maybe, just maybe, we might scratch the '90s. I know that's crazy talk -- having a show featuring young people, aimed at young people, and watched by young people, actually performing songs less than thirty years old -- but it's kind of what I'd like to hear. Granted, I respect the challenge of taking an old song and making it contemporary, but at a certain point, you've gotta wonder how many of these poor kids are gonna be judged by their singing and not their ability to rearrange a tune. And yes, I realize that modernizing something doesn't require a whole new take, just a fresh performance, but still... it's getting excessive. I like the funky reinterpretations of Michael Jackson as much as anyone, but ever since Blake Lewis graced the stage, I feel like the singers are going out of their way to outdo each other with the musical shenanigans.

Then again, it's nice to see these kids challenging themselves. The alternative is clocking in a boring, subpar performance like my dear little Rambutan (a.k.a. Ramiele). Back in the semifinals, she was on a roll, but ever since graduating to the big stage, she's lost her pint-sized magic. She tried to get it back by belting out the Heart classic, "Alone," but the sad truth is that this will always be Carrie Underwood's Idol song. The other sad truth is that Rambutan simply couldn't pull it off. I don't know what's happened to her voice, but it's been weeks since she hit a proper note. The upside with a traditional rendition of a song is that when it connects, it connects. However, if you don't, well, it's a total failure. There are no points for creativity to be had. Rambutan, I hope you get one more chance to redeem yourself, but I fear it'll be back to the karaoke bars and sushi restaurants for you soon enough.

With the all too early exit of Amanda Overmyer from American Idol, I couldn't help but get downright introspective. What sort of a world is this where smokey-voiced, sartorially challenged singers can't find a mass market in America anymore? It's not, right I tell you. It's not!

Seriously, I was bummed that Amanda got the heave-ho last night. She was never destined to win the competition, but I loved her growly voice, her attitude, and, dare I crib a word from Paula, her authenticity. Plus, she was a nice change from the morose ballads of David Archuletta and Rambutan. Oh well.

Since the reality of another Kristy Lee Cook performance is all too harsh for people who are fans of "music" and "in tune singing," I provide you with this distraction to help you through the day. It's my latest contribution for Dipdive, and it dares to ask, "What Can Candidates Learn from American Idol?" OOOOH.

Check out all the goodness here.

Watching last night's episode of American Idol, it occurred to me that we've yet to see any of these contestants sing anything that's less than eighteen years old. Think about it: the semi-finals forced the singers to stick to the '60s, '70s, and ultimately the '90s, and now we've been stuck with two, count 'em, two weeks of Beatles tunes. It was cool last week, but this time around, it was all kind of lame. The arrangements were worse, the singing was uninspired, and the entire conceit was simply tired. I'm ready to see this show head into a more current direction —  if only to see what David Archuletta must do when faced with a non-adult-contemporary tune.

Earlier tonight, I decided I would merely fast forward through tonight's American Idol results show, and yet, as is always the case, I sunk nearly forty minutes into the damn thing, fast forwarding only occasionally when group numbers and phone calls and McPheever got too much for me to handle. Oh Idol. You're such a cruel beast.

To quote David Archuleta: "Oh man!"

Talk about a surprise ending. We waited nearly two hours for David Archuleta to take the American Idol stage, and just when we were expecting a moving, melodious, or at the very least, competent performance, the semi-pubescent phenom up and bombed the hell out of his The Beatles tune. First he forgot the lyrics, then he lost his confidence, then he forgot more lyrics, and then he just stopped hitting proper notes altogether. He was sharp, he was flat, and most of all, he was awful. The sadistic side of me wanted to enjoy this fall from grace, but it was so incredibly awkward that I instead simply wanted to cut to commercial halfway through the song. I actually empathized with the little guy. No, I haven't had any nationally televised musical performances go sour, but I have endured the terrible experience of botching a movie pitch once, and nothing's worse than that sinking feeling in your stomach when you know you've lost the room. It feels like the walls are closing in on you. Literally. You get hot, you hear your voice talking, and you can't believe it's even coming out of your mouth. Even worse, you don't even know what IS coming out of your mouth. You want to just throw your hands up and say, "Okay, let's just end this," but you can't; so you push forward and hope that somehow you can find a way out of this mortifying situation. Of course, David's nightmare performance was viewed by thirty million people; so I guess it's probably just a taaaad worse.