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!

Verily, I must obey.

We need to get the NCSE’s counter-site to the hideous little propaganda film, Expelled, to rank higher in the search engines. The way to do this is for lots and lots of you to link to the Expelled Exposed site with the word Expelled.

Hence, my offering:

Expelled

I trust it is found satisfactory by the dark powers that be.

That’s right, it’s the final eight on 04/08/2008, and if you multiply the 2 in 2008 times the 4 in 04, you get 08 (bear with me), leading to the final eight on 08/08/2008. It’s a first in American Idol history: time travel!

Huzzah!

On with the show.

Hey, look, there’s Randy, Paula, Paula’s ridiculous cleavage for a woman her age, and Simon.

First up, Michael Johns , who may or may not have a surname indicating where he was conceived, performing Aerosmith’s “Dream On.” It was more about the orchestral presence than any originality, if you ask me. Which you did not. But you’re here, so too bad.

Did Paula just say her chihuahuas will join him on stage? I suppose since they’re already leaping out of her top, they might as well. Yap! Yap!

Syesha Mercado, whose last name means “SuperTarget,” is singing a song by a previous Idol, which is either a lame bit of coattail riding or absolute genius that will pay off in the end. Either way, all this song needs is a huge gospel choir in the back and then a huge chunk of syrup-covered cheese falls on Syesha.

Number three (better than going number two, that will be his tagline, and I think it will help sell millions): Jason Castro.

Perhaps “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” that boy will find his balls again.

In the meantime, yes, I know, he’s pretty.

Randy’s on crack. Paula is about to unleash her chihuahuas again. Simon is holding the collar of the chihuahuas as they bound across the stage.

Note: Zombyboy is blogging it too.

Note 2: Do the makers of that Meatloaf commercial not realize the next line is ‘So now I’m praying for the end of time / to hurry up and arrive?”

Continuing with the show… Kristy Lee Cook… is hot. Someone send Paula’s chihuahuas to the pound and liberate Kristy’s puppies, would you?

Yeah, I’m classy. We’ve been over this.

Now she’s singing some song I don’t know. But that’s pretty common these days.

It might be Martina McBride, but it feels like a Lee Greenwood song, doesn’t it? Where are the fireworks and flags and eagles soaring proudly above the crowd?

But girl can sing and girl is hot. And Lee Greenwood is not.

And, I could be wrong, but did she just blow me a big kiss? I think she did. She must read the blog. Oh my goodness, I’m all giddy now!

David Cook is up, sporting a beard he’s been trying to grow since he was 13, singing (or nasally belching forth, it sounds like) “Innocent” by Our Lady Peace. Lord almighty, what was he doing for the first part of that song? Showing how someone with sleep apnea would sing it?

It got better, but not much.

Across the country, millions of tweeners are saying “WTF?”

Randy calls it. Paula talks about David’s package. Simon agrees with Randy. Paula points out the spontaneously-planned promotion of the American Idol charity show on David’s palm.

Carly Smithson is up.

Initial observation: nice pants. Let that show go on, awww yeah.

And Randy’s dog pound is missin’ some Irish wolfhounds, I think.

Ahhrrrroooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

Getting close to the end of the show. Here comes David Archuletta, who is stumbling over his words with Ryan like he’s talking to a girl for the first time. Remember, girls , no matter how much you bounce and yell and cheer and cry, your boobies are forever invisible to Archuletta’s eye.

(Note: not confirmed, pure speculation, don’t sue me).

Wait, dude chose “Angels” for its power and message? This could be beyond speculation now.

That said, I think he’s en route to victory the way it’s going.

Randy likes it. Paula wishes David was more manly so she could turn her chihuahuas lose upon his youthful libido. Simon’s on board too.

After the break, it’s Brooke White, who obviously drew the “who goes after Archuletta?” short straw.

And who also apparently got the last dress left on the rack.

And, uh… hmmm… it’s a nice song and she’s pretty and the guy on piano looks like Randy’s twin brother, Liam. Bet you didn’t know he had a twin brother named Liam, did you? Honest, I don’t make this stuff up.

Or, wait, maybe Liam is sitting in Randy’s chair… I’m all confused now! Evil twins, dawg!

That’s that, and we’ll see you next week unless I get a better offer.

Ah, the memories of songs like “Camping on Acid” from my college days:

It pays better, sure, but money can’t buy you happiness or love (no matter what Spitzer says).

OK, maybe the happiness part it can, but not love.

Dead at age 84.

And, now, a musical tribute.

It used to be that porn lead the development of new internet technologies; now it’s particle physics.

THE internet could soon be made obsolete. The scientists who pioneered it have now built a lightning-fast replacement capable of downloading entire feature films within seconds.

At speeds about 10,000 times faster than a typical broadband connection, “the grid” will be able to send the entire Rolling Stones back catalogue from Britain to Japan in less than two seconds.

The latest spin-off from Cern, the particle physics centre that created the web, the grid could also provide the kind of power needed to transmit holographic images; allow instant online gaming with hundreds of thousands of players; and offer high-definition video telephony for the price of a local call.

David Britton, professor of physics at Glasgow University and a leading figure in the grid project, believes grid technologies could “revolutionise” society. “With this kind of computing power, future generations will have the ability to collaborate and communicate in ways older people like me cannot even imagine,” he said.

Breaking news: The RIAA is crapping themselves right about now (or will be in about 10 years, when they once again drag their feet on adapting to new technologies and then blame the consumer for their own industry’s shortcomings).

But he sure does have a hankerin’ for a hunk of strawman argumentation.

His characterizations of Dawkins, Hitchens, and Harris - the most vocal among the New Atheists - read as if he got his ideas about them from a James Dobson faith retreat where he drank deep of Kool-Aid.

And that’s just in the prologue to his book I Don’t Believe in Atheists.

Could the rest of the book be any better? I have my doubts, but perhaps I will press on with it.

It’s not on yet, of course, but thought I would throw this placeholder out there for all the happy Googlers who come by tonight.

Perhaps, this being April Fool’s Day, I should actually post only truthful, factual statements about the remaining contestants, just for a delightful change of pace.

So, yeah, that’s what I will do.

Everything you are about to read (later) will be the God’s honest truth*.

Update: And the show has begun!

First up, Brooke White, in a segment with Dolly Parton, in which we learn that shadowed studio lighting is not kind to Brooke and that her piano playing is stronger than her guitar.

She does the song “Jolene.” She appears to have scoliosis, that or her guitar is way, way too big for her. I found the performance to just be… there. It existed. Randy agrees. Paula rambles. Simon nails it.

David Cook finds his arrangements online. Quite the original (brought to you by Google).

Oh, wait, he’s doing his own arrangement of “Little Sparrow.” Next year’s contestants can Google it if necessary. To his credit, he’s playing something other than basic open chords on his guitar, so there’s that.

And then closes it with some cheesy harmonic strum. Sigh.

Not a bad performance, but for me it was just… again… there. Nothing memorable, good or bad. On the bright side, he’s not dwarfed by his big boy guitar.

Ramiele Malubay is wearing what appears to be an overall-skort hybrid. It’s unfortunate. Maybe it’s the lighting.

Wait, she was singing too? I didn’t really notice, while trying to suss out what that is she is wearing. That’s how memorable it was. However, the gams look nice. Maybe we need American Gams. With me as the judge. Woot woot!

The love child of John Travolta and Alanis Morissette is up. Jason Castro gets an auto-erotic postcard from someone in Colorado and then performs “Travelin’ Thru.”

A pretty solid performance, and I like the gospel touch in the vocals at the end. Which may be there in the original, but I have no idea. Fitting either way. Now, just lose the dreads, poopy-head boy. Randy’s got it. Paula loves every damn thing under the sun. Simon is wrong.

Carly Smithson. I’m dealing with troublesome kids right now, but her strong note caught my attention. It’s nice to see that everyone from her ink shop showed up to support her. I do agree with Simon that her clothes need some work.

“Smokey Mountain Memories,” brought to you by David Archuletta, he of the strong voice, good fashion sense, and a sexuality that is bound to disappoint a number of 10-12 year olds when they realize he really doesn’t much care for “the boobies.” That said, dude can sing and could make a killing with his own Vegas show. With lots of dancing girls. In whom he would have no interest.

But that’s more for me.

Kristy Lee Cook looks fabulous in the jeans she is wearing while rehearsing with Dolly. The dress during “Coat of Many Colors” ain’t half bad either. See, I focus on the important things in a singing competition.

Now, for the performance… she was a good performer in front of a lackluster house band with a nothing-special arrangement.

Interlude: I would so do naughty things to Tina Fey. If my wife approved, of course.

“I Will Always Love You,” performed by Syesha Mercado. My fear is that no matter how “un-bad” you perform this song, you’ll always be compared to Whitney Houston’s version, which would be hard to top. Although that held note was pretty damn impressive.

Randy lives down to Andy’s law, above. Paula comments on looking pretty first, which is never a good thing, and I can’t really tell whether or not she liked it, but then prescription drugs can do that to a former pop star. Simon also can’t see past Whitney, which is sad, because apparently once we have a great version of a song, apparently no one else should dare to perform it in public.

If that were true, no one would ever dare touch Gorky Park’s “Bang!”

I rest my case.

Michael Johns. He needs to work on his look of self-important earnestness. The current one pains me.

It was a solid singing performance, but it didn’t do anything for me. See above faux expressions comment.

And they’re rushing to end the show, and that means it is time for the new season of Hell’s Kitchen. Gordon Ramsay, hooray! Such a mild-mannered and meek soul is he.

* Since God does not exist, please consider this warranty null and void.

That’s my favorite line from a Bud Light Real Men of Genius radio spot.

Please, please, please… for the love of all the gods, imaginary or otherwise, do not take this to mean I endorse drinking that stuff.

Blech.

(found via Innocent Bystanders)

…and I missed it!

But that’s ok because it’s on the DVR, happily waiting for me to plop down on the couch and watch it (the show, not the couch, although the couch likes to feel sexy and eyed-up too sometimes, as couches are wont to do, especially the ones with an ugly 70s pattern, but mine is just green).

It sucks that CBS couldn’t even give them a few more weeks to tie up the story and at least bring it to a sensible ending. Although, you have to admit, killing it off in mid-stride is better than what they did to Quantum Leap. Of course, you could give them months to wrap things up and end up with the final episode of Seinfeld.

OK, tough call, I guess.

So, I simply must know, did the people of Jericho get off the island or not?