Idle Outrage

As the rest of the young, American intelligentsia, I have been decrying the rise of reality TV as little more than media-enabled, vulgar voyeurism. Not only is it often trashy, but it cuts jobs for writers (a guild with which my sympathies lie, for obvious reasons), eliminates the creativity found in sitcom/drama plots, significantly lowers the overall wit and intelligence of dialogue on the programming, and—as is becoming increasingly apparent as more revelations surface about the myriad ways in which producers meddle to create artificial drama and boost ratings—isn't as "real" as it's cracked up to be.

That being said, I do have two general exceptions to this rule: American Idol and So You Think You Can Dance. [Early readers of my blog will remember my SYTYCD quest. Johnny-come-latelies can check out parts I, II, III, IV, and V. Part VI, which will hopefully be the final (and long overdue) installment will come eventually—I promise!] In spite of my Idol allowance, I initially declined Danny's invitations to view this season with him because I knew watching Idol would detract from catching up with my blog. I was successful for a while, but while he was enjoying the shows from the office computer, I had to keep coming in to ask him things, which gave me inadvertent peeks at some of the performers. A number of them (like Gina Glocksen) impressed me so much that I sat down to see their entire auditions, and was thus sucked in, hopelessly lost beyond the Idol event horizon. So it was to my great exasperation that I went through all the trouble to establish principles, to make exceptions to these principles, only to be greatly disappointed by the results.

The only (east) Asian guy, Paul Kim, can really sing! But he was among the first to get cut in the final 24. When they kicked him off, I literally screamed. (If you don't believe me, just ask Danny. My cries of woe were so natural that I didn't even noticed I had responded in such a vociferous manner, until I saw Danny cupping his left ear to prevent further damage to his cochlea.) Someone please explain to me how that Indian guy and the fat guy with the afro were not eliminated first. I'm serious! It can't be a racism thing, right? Because that Indian dude is still on the show, and he cannot sing. [I'm still a little confused about how he made it into the final 24 in the first place. Was he seriously the 24th best contestant out of tens of thousands who auditioned? Did he sleep with someone? Because if you're an AI producer and you bumped booties with him, you should know that he's under age.] If only there were some way for me to right this wrong, to turn back this wave of gross injustice, to undo what amounts to criminal malfeasance on the part of the voting public!!! If only, America. If only.

So now I'm stuck here in China, with no real way to vote that doesn't involve a crippling high phone bill for calls that are ostensibly toll free. I have all this righteous indignation over the travesty that is unfolding before my eyes, and no agency to re-fold it in a different way. My only hope is that I can influence a few of you to tune in next week and cast your votes for justice. Until then, I will be here, idle with rage.

Below: four Idol contestants eliminated last week. Clockwise from top left: Paul Kim, Amy Krebs, Nicole Tranquillo, and Rudy Cardenas. No love lost for the jazz hands, Rudy.