I guess Rosie O'Donnell beat me to the punch on this one, but, once again, despite telling Jamie "I will not watch this season of American Idol", I have seen three hours of the show already.
It may be the producer's knowledge that America loves to watch people fail, no matter who they are and as long as they quickly disappear from the screen (see: America's Funniest Home Videos). Or, it may be because of the saturation of American Idol into the zeitgeist, that American Idol is now attracting more applicants than ever of all stripes... And, perhaps after six seasons, no matter how grueling the humiliation the judges dish out, contestants are smart enough to just keep their mouths shut.
This season, American Idol's audition episodes seem to be showing nothing but mildly deranged, somewhat mentally challenged and functionally autistic contestants. Apparently it's not enough to just bring in the kids who think they can sing but have delusions of grandeur (which is how Idol reps classify their contestants). It seems that Crazy Mary from a few seasons ago really lit a fire under the producers to let through and broadcast the judges haranguing folks who the producers SHOULD have the common courtesy to excuse from the auditions. Instead, it's sort of the TV equivalent of laughing at the special ed kids in high school. Nice.
Of course, because the show lasts somewhere in the neighborhood of 87 weeks each season, the audience sort of forgets the folks who maybe should never have been paraded in front of the camera. But it's unlikely those folks forget, if they're ever even aware of how they were presented.
If someone put on a show where they pitched itself as: we promise to make fun of the mildly deranged, the somewhat mentally challenged and the functionally autistic, I would not tune in.
That's why I don't watch "Carlos Mencia" and "The Blue Collar Comedy Tour".
Anyway, I'm done. No more Idol.
The real tragedy of all of this is that longtime readers will know I love it when bad things happen to good people. Somehow this TV show is taking away my love of the schadenfreude. And that's just not fair.
I DVR "Friday Night Lights" on Wednesday nights, so I have but one live-TV option:
It's "Armed and Famous" for me on my Wednesday nights. Go Officer Estrada!
Shut up. That show is awesome. While you were watching your fiftieth contestant butcher a Celine Dion song (as if Celine Dion songs should be encouraged, anyway) and Simon's 1000th eyeroll, I saw LaToya Jackson assist in the delivery of a baby.
That, Leaguers, is TV magic.