My,my,my, sometimes Thomas Bartlett’s day job seems more like work than the ultimate dream job. Watching American Idol has to fall into the work category.

This may be an explanation for his out -of-character, sexist dish of the Daddy's girl, over-ripe Barbie/McPhee's forgettable performance of her first dreadful first single. (What could Clive Davis had actually been thinking? He knows how to tailor a song to an artist better than anyone in the music biz!)

While Daddy's girl's mama's amply displayed cleavage role-modeled a hyper-sexualized home environment, Bartlett’s pornification of the dutiful daughter was a cheap shot. He wrote: " Tuesday night's show climaxed when each singer debuted his or her new single. McPhee's "My Destiny" was a piece of prom night schlock that stayed limp when it needed a money shot".

What McPhee needed was a pre-performance soul check to see if real feeling was a possibility from within the prison of her dazzling cheerleader smile. Not a penis based critique of the Idol most willing.

How he could resist taking American Idol voters to task for honoring the minstrel show, frat-boy karaoke antics of Taylor Hicks also was surprising.

Really Thomas, you must learn how to say “No!” to the demands of the Salon editors. American Idol simply is not worthy of your sensitivities as an artist, a musician or a writer.

The real story last night was not that more votes were cast in American Idol’s s/m communal ritual of shame and debasement than for any US Presidential candidate. It was the willingness of desperate fading artists e.g. Prince, to participate in this public bashing of talentless people who willingly and publicly allowed themselves to become the whipping post of a nation's collective anxiety and shared powerlessness in return for even less than 15 minutes of fame.

Rome had to be more fun.

jim fouratt

David Marchese did, for what it's worth.

But getting to the meat of the matter (pun intended), I've never understood the bile so many spew towards American Idol. I've been a loyal watcher since season one. I went to see the tour live that first year, and will probably go again this year. And yes, I'm over 30, I have a job and a husband and no, I'm not a fan of Britney Spears.

I watch the show for precisely the reasons given about the good of Wednesday's finale: I love watching real people try to live out a dream. There's no cutthroat hate like Survivor or Amazing Race, no backstabbing like on the Apprentice. And yes, I know it's staged (and I'm aware pro wrestling's fake, too). I know most of the contestants are fame-whore hacks. I also know that others have put a lot of time and energy into doing what they love, and they get to do that on a national stage. They fame-whore or crash-and-burn or rise to the occasion for my amusement. And I get to cheer them on every step of the way.

Musically, like everything else in life the wheat separates from the chaff. I bought both of Kelly Clarkson's albums; Rueben's now out hawking used cars. All the vitrol that this isn't "real music?" Bo Bice's single is happily co-existing with Arcade Fire on my player, and the world hasn't yet come to an end.

Taking two nights out of my week to bask in someone else's unbridled joy isn't all that bad. I still show up for anti-war protests, I still write my congressmen, I still volunteer with my church at the homeless family shelter. My hatred of Bush's policies doesn't stop just because Taylor Hicks is having a near epileptic fit on my TV. Most of the 63 million people who voted for American Idol are a few thousand 14-year-old girls with a strong grasp of the redial function on their phones, not people who would otherwise be turning out to the polls if they weren't being brainwashed by a TV show.

In closing, I take my humble leave with this: Elliott was robbed.

damn... I made a big mistake for attributing the Idol article in the Audio File to Thomas Bartlett.... I stand corrected! Thank you. His assistant was frothing at the mouth... I still stand on everything else I wrote ... It did not make sense that Thomas would write in such a manner. Moreover, I should say the David does know how to write.. he just needs to be a little more thoughtful in his choice of words.

kisskiss to everybody

jim fouratt

That song from The Wizard of Oz is called "Over the Rainbow"; contrary to conventional assumption, "somewhere" is not in the title.