RIP, Carly Smithson. This Dion-like diva, arguably the best vocalist of American Idol Season 8, was eliminated from the show last Thursday in a most unmerciful fashion, and I’m still getting over it. Whether it was her Irish roots, her “disgracing” of Jesus Christ (superstar!), her tattoos or her boyfriend’s tattoos that ultimately did her in, America will never know. But what I know is that Idol’s credibility may be irreparably damaged as a result, and we, the viewing audience, need to do something about it…like, now. Enough is enough!
Latinos, I’m not talking about you anymore. Though I may have questioned your talents a few weeks ago, you all shone like budding estrellas during Mariah Carey week. Jason Castro, did you really manage to turn “I Don’t Wanna Cry” into a tearfully sincere, gravel-voiced ballad? Seriously, how’d you do that? After that and your chilled-out rendition of “Over the Rainbow,” I’m not mad if you take a week off to butcher a song from Cats—that musical sucks anyway.
And Syesha Mercado—you are like Carly minus the foreign accent, the ink and the sacrilege, so there’s really no excuse when you work the crap out of a song like “Vanishing” and a Broadway ditty like “One Rock ‘n’ Roll Too Many” only to have Randy Jackson say, “I don’t know, dog, it was just aight for me tonight.” None!
And David chuleta—er, Archuleta—I may not love you as much as the screaming tweens do, but when you’re not forgetting your lyrics or grasping for a complete sentence in response to a simple question, you’re doing your thing (or your dad’s thing…who really knows?). Your winning the show is kind of inevitable at this point (or is it, Mr. Cook?!?), and I’ve come to terms with that.
Nope, I’m talking about Miss Brooke White. Entertainment Weekly’s PopWatch blog hilariously compares her to Bambi, and that’s because she’s pretty much made it her job to fawn and pout her way to the finals. Well, I’m determined to stop that. Neil Diamond is tonight’s Idol mentor, which is either genuinely or ironically awesome, or just confusing, depending on your age bracket. For me it’s the second, and the sweetest vindication would be to see White attempt the beer-soaked party anthem “Sweet Caroline” (don’t even think about it, Jason), only to be forced to sing it again when AI viewers, seeking justice for Carly’s premature exit, knock her out of the competition and make the world right again. A girl can dream.
-Monica
