What he said.

Many thanks to the good folks at ViewMyLife.com for the terrific discussion tonight with David and me.

More to come, good people. More to come.

Shocked, I am, indeed!

Paula Abdul gets confused on ‘Idol’

This actually happened sometime back in 2004 and has been a steady-state, status quo of kookery ever since.

No idea why it took CNN so long to pick up on it.

The Anti-Defamation League blasts Ben Stein and the other cretins behind “Expelled.”

The film Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed misappropriates the Holocaust and its imagery as a part of its political effort to discredit the scientific community which rejects so-called intelligent design theory.

Hitler did not need Darwin to devise his heinous plan to exterminate the Jewish people and Darwin and evolutionary theory cannot explain Hitler’s genocidal madness.

Using the Holocaust in order to tarnish those who promote the theory of evolution is outrageous and trivializes the complex factors that led to the mass extermination of European Jewry.

God might have resurrected Jesus, but I doubt even He could bring back Ben Stein’s integrity or career.

(found, of course, via PZ Myers)

Update: Over at National Review Online, John Derbyshire - who, when not talking about homosexuals, displays an ability to be rational - also takes Stein to task for the “science leads to killing people” nonsense (see my post below).

He then asks:

And there are NRO readers who are on board with this dreck? I need a drink.

Better get a keg, John - I’m willing to bet that most of the far right is on board with this dreck.

…you get up talking lies.

That’s right, he actually said:

“Science leads you to killing people.”

14:59:99.

*ding!*

Now go away, Ben, you senile, old, blathering fool.

This past weekend, we watched “The Astronaut Farmer,” starring Billy Bob Thornton and Virginia Madsen’s chest. It was harmless enough, a feel-good tale of chasing your dreams despite the fact that you’re very obviously insane and probably a danger to those around you.

Two items of note:

1. Virginia Madsen is still hot, and I’m as enamored of her today as I was when she first graced my brain (and nether regions) while watching “Electric Dreams” (which was soon supplanted by the shower scene in “Creator”).

2. What was up with the MLK Jr. assassination conspiracy crap tucked into a throwaway line in a men’s room? Billy Bob’s crazy farmer, after being told by his lawyer that there’s no threat against him from the government, says something like “I don’t know. I hear they’re pretty good at assassinating people with dreams.”

   Pardon me, but WTF? Maybe I’m interpreting that incorrectly.

   Next time let’s just have Alicia Keys jump out and sing a song about how the white man created gangsta rap to keep a poor, black brother down.

   Hell, she can do a duet with Jeremiah Wright while she’s at it.

That said, sure, rent it. Whatever. It’s not going to wow you, might make you smile here and there, and - yes, Santa Claus, there is Virginia.

…of Larry King’s hard-hitting journalism:

Exclusive: Sources tell TVNewser that CNN and Larry King have agreed to a contract extension, which will keep the anchor with the network through 2010, beyond his 77th birthday.

His brain, which apparently died sometime in early 2000, was upset to have been left out of the negotiations.

So, in our time of war, an economy in a downturn, and with a Presidential election looming, Larry King will continue to bring us the keen insights of psychic frauds like Sylvia Browne.

Way to go, CNN!

Hey, welcome back.

The final six will be taking on selected works of Andrew Lloyd Webber, famous for his grills (and who knew he wrote music too?).

Syesha Mercado is singing “One Rock n’ Roll Too Many,” a song I don’t think I have ever heard, and quite possibly have misspelled in some fashion.

Wow, who knew those yabos and twisty hips were hiding under there all this time? Listen, dog, that’s hot. And the singing wasn’t half-bad either; a very solid performance.

The judges agreed, and Paula almost got cut off in mid-sentence, but the cruel fates decided to go back to her so she could finish.

Aside: Why is Johnny-5 playing a cartoon robot named Wall*E in that new Disney movie?

Up next is Jason Castro, who thought really hard about washing his hair for tonight’s show, but then decided against it, singing “Memory.”

Well, it was… uh… a sickly sweet performance, and not enough to top Syesha at all. Randy didn’t dig it, y’all. Paula at least started out without saying he looked nice, but then Randy did. Simon calls it.

Aside 2: Netflix confirms that “Cloverfield” shipped to us today. Nifty!

Contestant number three of the night is Brooke White singing “You Must Love Me.” But not before getting ripped a second anus by Webber for not understanding the motivation behind the song. And, uh, not before screwing up the start of the song. Probably that second anus was kind of itchy or something.

All of that out of the way, not a terribly shabby performance for a chick with two hiney holes. I agree with Simon that stopping and then starting was the right thing to do… so does Randy, once again proving that Paula is a schlub.

David Archuleta will be taking on “Think of Me.” Andrew Lloyd Webber (named after Christopher Lloyd), indicates this was a song written for a woman, a diva, and - well - it sure seems like the right girl chose it tonight. Huzzah.

Now, for the performance… first observation: how quickly he forgot the two lessons he was taught (one for each eye). Second observation: this kid is so gonna win this thing. Somebody put on some Spice Girls, ’cause we need some girl power, y’all!

Third observation: wow, Paul Stanley looks… uh…. hmmm. Um, yeah, OK.

After the break, Carly Smithson. Did Andrew Lloyd Webber say she had a big chest? And does anyone else notice how her accent goes between Dubliner and Valley Girl on a whim? And does this song start off like the theme for “The Rockford Files” or what?

And, uh, that dress? Sure, it’s short, but what good is that when I’ve gouged out my eyes to avoid looking at it?

The performance was big and loud and generally good.

David Cook, who had some MP3s available on Amazon.com until he got the AI smackdown put on him, is singing “The Music of the Night.”

OK, fine, maybe he beats little Ms. Archuleta after all. And Paula loves his beautiful instrument. Which would be hot, if it weren’t Paula.

But now it’s time for some Ramsay action in the kitchen. See ya!

Dogs Die in Hot Cars, a band I discovered by randomly checking out CDs from the library, is looking for help in completing their second album:

Wherever your creativity lies, we want you to finish the second album. Whether you are a Singer, Guitarist, Pianist, Poet, DJ, Producer, Dancer or Shoemaker - we want to hear how you think the second album should sound.

From here you can download the album two demos and also all the individual tracks that made up the songs (vocals, guitars, synths etc.) to make with them whatever you wish. Completely free.

We will give 50% of all our royalty incomes that come from the final second album to those who have contributed towards the making of it.

I really liked their first album, and it sucks that they’ve gone the way of the Dinosaurs (and the TV show, “Dinosaurs”).

However, I will take them up on getting the demos for album two.

…well, except for Martha Stewart’s:

Martha Stewart’s dog Paw Paw, who was a familiar face on her television show and in her magazine, has died of renal failure.
Paw Paw and Stewart

The 60-pound chow, whose full name was Kublai Khan Paw Paw Chow Chow Chow, was almost 13. Stewart had owned him since he was born, and had named him Paw Paw for his large paws, a spokeswoman said.

Speaking from the canine afterlife (I was kidding about him not going to doggy Heaven, see), he admitted no greater shame in life than being named Kublai Khan Paw Paw Chow Chow Chow, wishing he had instead been named Peter.

Time once again, ladies and gents and people of indeterminate gender identity due to either biology, tragic mishap, or personal choice!

It’s Tuesday, and that rhymes with truth-day, at least if you lisp badly (go on, try it - you know you want to!).

So, tonight, as always for your edification and entertainment, I shall endeavor to give you the low-down on the goings-on with the winner- and losers-to-be of the not-a-one-hit-wonder show, American Idol. Endeavor being the operative word, because there’s a good chance my cynicism and general unhappiness with my lot in life* will get the better of me and I will just make stuff up.

Who? Me?

No way!

Stay tuned… there’s more to come…

Before We Start, a Prediction: Michael Johns will not be going home tonight.

Call it a gut feeling.

It’s 7pm, So Here We Go! (oh my gosh, how exciting)

Mariah Carey is the coach tonight. Her boobs are the visual distraction from any auditory nightmares that might unfold.

David Archuletta listens to Mariah Carey a lot. Ladies, I’m telling you, he’s off limits, unless you need fashion advice. He’s also the first male of the night to have zero interest in Mariah’s yabos.

Watching him sing, it’s like Clay Aiken and Rick Astley had a love child. I might have made that joke already. But, that’s ok, because it’s that true. And I speak truth to power. And inappropriate things to hot moms. Or do I?

Randy wishes David would sing his nuts a love song. Paula agrees (although to her puppies, not her nuts, because she doesn’t have nuts, but she is nuts). Simon liked it too.

Playing second fiddle to the David-wanky-diddle is Carly Smithson. In honor of Mariah, she’s showing her cleavage, which is fine with me (more than fine), except I just noticed she has the nose of Meg from “The Family Guy.”

But that’s ok, cleavage rules. Noses suck.

Well, think about it, sometimes they do. They also blow.

The intro was pitchy and boring, but the higher parts were solid. Randy concurs. Paula talked about Carly swelling, which would seem more appropriate when she’s speaking about Michael Johns and her hooded Amazonian warrior, but there you go. Simon gives constructive criticism.

Syesha Mercado is singing “Vanishing,” a song Mariah wrote as a teenager, long before the (alleged) boob job (Mariah, not Syesha, although that couldn’t hurt her chances at pop stardom).

She can obviously sing, but what I have never liked about Mariah is that she engages in vocal noodling, throwing out runs and scales regardless of how well they fit in any given place. Syesha did the same.

It’s like Ron Jeremy whipping out his manhood every time a camera was near despite the fact that no one would willingly do Ron Jeremy without significant pay. Or not, but whatever.

Someday, my similes and metaphors will be regarded as fine literature.

Brooke White takes on the song “Hero.” She goes for the piano factor, which is a good move when you’re not the strongest singer in the bunch. If your mouth can’t keep up, at least you’ve got your hands. So I hear. Man, I am almost too crass tonight for even me.

Overall, a very level performance, a bit squelchy in places, but passable, a good try. Although Simon says the “bit in the middle” was missing, while Randy says “the meat was in the bun.” And I thought I was crass.

Kristy Lee Cook. She can sing, and she’s pretty. And she’s pretty, and she can sing. Paula rambled a bit like that, didn’t she? Simon is off the mark, although I admit my own weakness for the pretty girl.

Things are really cookin’ now (arrrgh), as David Cook and his adolescent beard are up next.

So, he plays the guitar for Mariah but not for the people? I feel so let down. I also feel this performance would have worked a lot better had he actually been playing the guitar, but it felt to me like something any hair metal band could have done. That said, the change up in the arrangement was daring, even for a boy who struggles to grow a beard (myself included, and you should hear how I change up arrangements of Mariah Cary songs).

Jason Castro is - right this moment - wishing he had opted for diapers instead of the big boy pants, because David Cook hoarded a lot of praise just then.

And, sadly, I missed the whole performance because the wee Fiona stepped in a hairball on her way to bed.

Whoops.

* I’m actually pretty happy, especially now that you’re here, dear American Idol consumer. Have you lost weight? You look fabulous!