Diamond in the Rough

I know it's a popular song, but I've never cared much for "Sweet Caroline." Hell, it's not even the best song with "Caroline" in the title (that honor goes to "Caroline, No" from the Beach Boys' "Pet Sounds," though The Go-Betweens' gem "Caroline and I" is a close second). For me, "Sweet Caroline" is a middle-of-the-road bore — and emblematic of singer-songwriter Neil Diamond's entire catalogue. In other words, perfect for a night of "American Idol" performances.

And you knew they'd get "Caroline" in there somewhere, though I was hoping it wouldn't be my dear David Archuleta. But there he was taking on the favorite of drunk straight male karaoke singers everywhere. I guess his handlers decided this would be a better route of appealing to his young female audience than tackling "Solitary Man," for example. Of course, it was just a warm-up to his take on "America," which is a quintessential D-Archie song, with its undertones of social justice. Simon, however, accused David of pulling a Kristy Lee Cook to appeal to the mainstream "God Bless America" crowd and "ticking the boxes" (though tickling the boxers might be more up his alley).

The only Neil Diamond song I can tolerate is the Urge Overkill version of "Girl, You'll Be a Woman Soon" used on the "Pulp Fiction" soundtrack. It didn't make the lineup, and while I was happy not to that other David steal that arrangement for his performance (they should call him David Crook for all the musical theft he's perpetrated this season), it would have been a hoot to see our favorite singing queer twink take on this tune with an self-referential wink.

By the way, what is it with all the crappy mentors they've had this year? Bless Dolly Parton and her infinite brilliance, because the other three were a crap bonanza: Diamond, Mariah Carey, Andrew Lloyd Webber. I might as well submit my pointless fantasy list of mentors for next season: Chrissie Hynde for Pretenders week; Win Butler of Arcade Fire for an indie rocker week; Leonard Cohen and Tom Waits (how many awesome songs do they have between them?). Or if they insist on a Neil, bring on Neil Young for a little "Needle and the Damage Done" or "After the Gold Rush." My mother once confused Mr. Young with Mr. Diamond and bought a collection of his greatest hits — luckily it was at a garage sale and on cassette, but it was quite confusing for her to find out they were, in fact, two separate people.

There was plenty of confusion on the "Idol" stage Tuesday, as well. The fact the contestants were singing two songs and the judges were withholding comments until everyone had performed their first tune threw Paula for a loop. Actually, let's not blame the format. I think it's whatever was in her Coke cup before the show started that led to her fab flub: While critiquing Jason's first performance, she actually gave feedback on both songs — including the one he had yet to sing. Ryan suggested Paula is a soothsayer, but the more likely explanation is that she took notes from a dress rehearsal and all space and time has melded together after her first bottle of gin.

I wish I had been that drunk when I watched this parade of mediocrity. One mai tai, alas, was not enough to blur shelter my ear drums and eyes from a double dose of David Crook . Anyway, here's the roundup, with the overall grade first and a breakdown of the two performances underneath:

David: B (He was the most consistent, if not amazing; Neil Diamond, I blame you and your horrid songs.)

Sweet Caroline: B

America: B

Brooke: B- (First was cheesy, the second was the best performance of the night — though that's not saying a whole lot)
I'm a Believer: C (Yes, it was that Monkees' song)
I Am, I Said: B+

Syesha: B- (It was solid, but not great — and even with the show's closing pimp spot she's probably out of luck this week unless voters turn on Jason's apathy.)

Hello Again: B

Thank the Lord for the Night Time: B-

Jason Castro: C (Mellow ... or boring? You decide)

Forever in Blue Jeans: C

September Morn: C

David Cook: D (As faithful readers know, I hate his ass face and everything that comes out of it. This week was no exception.)

I'm Alive: D

All I Really Need is You: D

Cats and Dawgs

I missed last week's "American Idol" recap because of a toothache, and no, I didn't get it because David Archuleta is so sweet — though his sartorial choice of leather pants on Mariah Carey week left me with an acute case of blue balls.

Otherwise, last week's show was rather forgettable, which in a way was a tribute to its mentor. Now, we're onto Andrew Lloyd Webber week  and — I hate to admit this since it seems like faggot heresy — but I'm not a big musical theater fan, and I actually knew fewer of the songs than I did on Mariah Week. The show frames his contribution to music as the composer of the most important musicals in Broadway history (granted, I'm no show tune show-off, but isn't it Stephen Sondheim who all the Great White Way fanboys drool over?).

Sir Lloyd Webber, of course, is the architect of "Cats" and "Phantom of the Opera." He encourages the contestants to really feel the meaning behind the words (as opposed to Mariah's method of ignoring the meaning of the lyrics and using words for the pure vocal gymnastics they represent). Keep in mind that Sir Lloyd Webber's most famous song is sung by an elderly woman in a cat suit. "I didn't know a cat was singing it," Jason confessed before tackling "Memory," and though it sounded better than a pack of strays mewling in an alleyway at midnight, it was close.

For dear D-Archie, it's less about connecting with the music for Sir Lloyd Webber than keeping his pupils pried open. The nobleman, like many others, wishes to stare rapt in the Mexi-Mormon's beautiful eyes, and who can blame him? He also tells David that the song he chose was "written for a diva! Written for a girl. ... I simply couldn't imagine how a boy could sing it." Ahem, Andy, there's something you should know about David. He's not like other boys ...

The producers get that. Why else would they parade a horde of teenage girls onstage to awkwardly hug David before his clip with Lord Lloyd Webber ran? As for the performance itself, David failed to honor the composer's wishes, with his eyes consistently shutting during the song. My eyes were open, though my ears were on cruise control. It was all right, but — as Simon noted — hardly anything to shout about.

Here's the grade rundown for the week...

Syesha: It was her night to shine. She comes off much better doing this kind of performance than the pale Whitney Houston imitation. Simon and Randy think she may have a future in the theater. They mean it as part compliment, part insult. B+

David: Not enough lip-licking tonight. B

Carly: She does a robust, if occasionally shouty, take on "Jesus Christ Superstar." B

Jason: He's doing a song from "Cats," for christsake. C

Brooke: She forgot the lyrics and restart the song — a move that Simon trumpets as brave, even if only to piss off Paula (who leveled some unusually good criticism about the nature of live television). She'll probably go home. C-

David Cook: I hate him, his eternal smugness and his faux sensitivity on "Music of the Night" from "Phantom of the Opera." D-

Noose Like a Necklace (poem)

Noose like a Necklace

He laid out the noose like a necklace;
it sat on the table as a gift.
He cut the rope from an old tire swing;
Neil valued himself a man of thrift.
After all, the child who played with it
long ago had died,
and so it, too, was true of Neil —
but his demise came on the inside.
Still he kept his weary flesh, a silly heart
that continued in its beating,
and a mind a flood of torment —
that day vivid and repeating.

Now, evocative once more is the morning
he learned of a son-to-be,
the thrill afterward of fastening that rope
to a branch high up in the tree.
Never was a father more excited
to have a baby on the way,
and he spoiled his expectant wife
on every step to delivery day.
And after the birth, Neil held her sweetly
and dreamed aloud of a life untold,
and around her lovely throat he draped
a necklace of silver and gold.

She never wears that necklace now
though others take its place.
She still dresses in silk to go to town;
there's always makeup on her face.
On her way, she'd pass that old tire swing
and never did he see her cry.
And he'd ask her if she missed Joey,
and not once did she reply.
How can a woman smile at the market
when her only child is gone?
When it was her remissness that doomed him,
how does she dare to live on?

Neil picks up the rope and envisions the day,
as his mind won't let him rest.
What he didn't witness with his own eyes,
the police reports do attest:
It was a sunny Friday afternoon
in the first full month of spring,
the young boy was playing outside,
his favorite toy an old tire swing.
his mother had been watching him —
he was too young to be alone —
but she went off to refresh her drink,
and then she heard the phone.

When Neil came home from work that day
he saw the body lying in the dirt —
his boy's head crushed upon the rock,
blood soaked through his tiny shirt.
And he found his wife with her vodka blush,
the telephone in her hand.
He screamed at her to call the hospital,
the morgue visit yet unplanned.
But it was there they would end the day,
Joey on the table, only halfway to 10.
His wife clutched her silver and gold;
she never wore that necklace again.

Neil holds that chain now in his left hand,
imagining everything he had to give.
In his right, he holds the handmade noose —
eight years later, his only chance to live.
He'd greet her as she came home tonight;
he would help her write a note.
Then he'd tell her that he loved her
as he slowly gripped her throat.
It would be the truth, but she has to pay
for a heart so cruel and reckless.
Neil will give his wife a gift tonight,
and he knows she'll wear the necklace.

1% Inspiration, 99% Masturbation

Was Paula giving David Archuleta a sign tonight on "American Idol" when she said he needed to sleep and punctuated her suggestion by creating a symbolic pillow with her hands? If so, she wasn't the only one in the audience (in the studio or, it's safe to assume, at home) who wanted to get him in bed. Shortly after Paula made her plea for a bit of "rest," a girl who looked like a preteen prostitute gave him a literal sign — beaming at the camera while holding her homemade plea entreating Chosen David to "Lick Those Lips." Alas, David's performance was more aural than oral this week.

It was all an odd to conclude David's performance on a night of inspirational songs. Of course, it was a bit of an odd beginning, too, as Ryan Seacrest kicked off his introduction of David's song by talking about money from Wednesday night's "Idol Gives Back" program going to HIV/AIDS research and then sending the camera over to David as if to say to the audience: "You don't want cute little David to die a horrible, lesion-plagued death after he contracts a fatal disease partaking in receptive bareback gay sex in a dirty bathhouse, do you?" I wouldn't have been surprised if Ryan had pulled out a condom and tried to give a safe sex lecture while David held a cucumber — though we all know Mr. Seacrest would rather be handling the fruit and not the vegetable.

As for the actual performance, it was excellent as usual. He was covering Robbie Williams' "Angels," which is a sly recognition of David's fan base, the Arch Angels, who will see themselves in the song — and see themselves in David, literally — with lyrics such as "I'm Loving Angels Instead." Everyone wants a piece of David, but does David find some inspiration — and perspiration — in the song's originator? After all, Robbie Williams is an attractive, masculine man who can easily be seen nude on the Internet.

Did David Google those images and use them as inspiration for a one-man show? Only his neighbors know for sure — he gets loud when he "practices" late at night. No wonder Paula thinks he looks like a coked-up trucker on an all-night multi-state haul. She wants him to lay his body down and so do some of his loyal fans. "Idol Gives Back," but does David give head? One hopes Bono and the do-gooders will get to the bottom of the question tomorrow night.

For tonight, David earns his A. Here's how the rest of the show broke down (sometimes quite literally) ...

Jason Castro: He picked the best song of the night with "Over the Rainbow." He's not a friend of Dorothy, per se, but he is a friend of  Israel Kamakawiwo'ole, the late Hawaiian singer who reinvented the song quite beautifully as a ukulele medley with "What a Wonderful World." Jason keeps the haunting tone of that performance and gives his best performance since "Hallelujah" week. Those performances show what's lacking in the bombast and bluster of most "Idol" performances — a good song sung with feeling, even if it's sung with subtlety. A

Brooke White: It's a big drop-off in quality from David and Jason to the rest of the field. Brooke keeps things simple with a Carole King standard, which is predictable and right up her alley and quite pleasant, as Simon pointed out. Pleasant is enough, though. B-

Michael Johns: Dream on, Mr. Johns. You're not a rock star. I guess I should be happy he went with this Aerosmith standard and not that eternally horrid "Armageddon" song. Paula's remark that he sounded as good as he looked is hardly a resounding compliment of his looks this week, but — along with the David Archuleta tease — I give Paula slut points this week. C+

Syesha Mercado: "Idol" rule No. 1 — and it should be posted on stage behind the contestants — is that a one should never perform a song originated by a former contestant. Rule No. 2 should be that if one does undertake such idiocy, he or she should not have the gall to recoil at comparisons to the original performance as Syesha did tonight on the Fantasia anthem "I Believe." If it was a horrible song when Fantasia, who's a better singer, did it, it's safe to say it fared no better here. C

Carly Smithson: If this whole "Idol" thing doesn't work out, perhaps Carly and Michael Johns can start a Queen tribute band with all the covers trotted out this season on "Idol." But this one isn't nearly as good as Michael's "We Will Rock You/We Are the Champions" medley, which at least had some stamina and an undercurrent of homoeroticism to it. This is, in fact, Carly's worst performance. The show might not go on for this Irish songbird come Thursday's result show, though I'd much rather see one of the Cooks go, as usual. C

Kristy Lee Cook: More country pandering with Martina McBride so I'm afraid she'll be safe (especially after the judges' inexplicable praise). Her song selection has been shrewd the past few weeks to keep her in the contest, but her talent has always been in short supply. C-

David Cook: Once again, Bad-Hair David takes the last spot for his take on "Innocent" by Our Lady of Peace, which he calls his favorite band and which explains so much. Even the judges hated this pompous ear poison, which means it must have sucked more ass than usual — and not in that lovely David Archuleta rim-job way. It was the bad kind of masturbation, in fact. "Innocent"? No, no, guilty as charged — off with his head come. Sentence should be carried out this Thursday. D-

Only You Could Save Me (Poem)

ONLY YOU COULD SAVE ME

Jesus Christ, won't you look at me
and deign to leave your cross?
Come down to this apartment house
and show this bitch who's boss.
Take her hands right off of me
and place them on a gun.
Advise she press it to her head
and watch her lifeblood run.
Then tell my dad I'm not a queer;
I sucked one cock, it's true —
but it was his half-hard piece of meat,
the only father figure I knew.

And Lord, I've felt this Bible belt
and the pages filled with wrath —
One man and one woman
the only lessons learned of math.
One night, I stole an OxyContin pill
and Morpheus brought a dream.
You were there, a pillow in hand,
to mute my final scream.
It wasn't nightmare I suffered through
of a life that could never be —
Just a lovely thought of nothing more,
each morn a mourning reverie.

But I have anger living in this blood
even death cannot abscond with,
And so your love and grace and mercy —
they all remain just a fond myth.
Jesus Christ, I give up on you,
but I'll still cry your name in vain,
in hopes that a drug or some delusion
might just take away my pain.
It was my mother who in her drink
cursed the good name she gave me,
and cast me out unto the world
and said only you could save me.

Ramiele Mula-bye

As I hoped in my last "American Idol" blog, diminutive Ramiele Mulabay has been sent packing. So much had been made about her elfin size and the comparative scope of her vocal ability that most of the comments seemed to miss the complete lack of originality in her arrangements and vocals.

Ramiele took songs that had been done by past "Idol" contestants and somehow found a way to do them worse. While the evil Cook twins may have committed greater musical atrocities — in Beatles week alone — their horrid interpretations of "Eleanor Rigby" and "Eight Days Week" at least were horridly original. I was quite happy to see Ramiele go, even if I did wish it were David Cook and not Brooke White joining the oh-so-small singer in the bottom three.

Elsewhere, Dolly Parton showed why she's the greatest "Idol" guest of all time. Her personality is so vast and disarming that she can sing a song about Jesus and charm the pants off an atheist, not to mention Simon. Speaking of losing clothing, didn't the producers miss an opportunity with tonight's Ford faux commercial to strip the guys of their shirts? Instead, it was the opposing team that went skins as the Idol contenders took them on in a game of pickup basketball. Michael Johns was in a tank top, but it still seemed a failed moment.

Then there was Chosen David. Even in a faked sporting event, they had that faggot playing the referee. I was half-expecting him to call a timeout so players could paint each other's nails and bake cupcakes with pink frosting. It wouldn't surprise me if David, who gave Tuesday's most heartfelt performance, ends up becoming the biggest Dolly Parton fan of them all, bless him. After all, the queers love that drama queen — and wigs. Let's remember what Dolly once said about being called a dumb blonde (also the title of one of her earliest songs, and my song suggestion for KLC, which she dumbly ignored, natch) ...

''I'm not offended at all because I know I'm not a dumb blonde. I also know I'm not a blonde.''

If Time Should Turn Itself Backward (poem)

This is a poem I wrote — one of many — in the wake of my father's death in February 2000. I will continue to post some of my older and newer work occasionally in this blog.

If Time Should Turn Itself Backward

If time should turn itself backward,
and the march toward death could be deterred,
and I could erase everything ere I heard,
this existence to me would seem less absurd.

And I could see this bottle of wine revert to a grape,
and I could watch a grown man evolve into an ape;
to see an old parrot's feathers bright with color again,
and an invalid could shed her withered skin.

And this antique desk could become two stately trees,
and the seven continents could seal the seas.
And the rivers would end where indeed they started,
to see rise from the graves our dearly departed. ...

Until an old man crawls though a vagina into a hole in space,
and an emptiness could replace this human race.
The dusk of a dead day could become its lovely dawn;
for a moment we rejoice, then once again it's gone.

And I could forget every learned word,
if time should turn itself backward.

And I could see again what the years have blurred,
if time should turn itself backward.

And this cancer in my body would one day be cured,
if time should turn itself backward.

Dollywood Week on "Idol"

What is it about Dolly Parton that can bridge the gap between conservative, beer-guzzling country music fans and transvestites in blond wigs and pancake makeup? Is it the big heart or the bigger mammaries in front?

Well, take a look at the songs ... "Coat of Many Colors," "Jolene," "In the Good Old Days (When Times Were Bad)," "The Bargain Store," "To Daddy," "Touch Your Woman" (known as a horror song in the gay community).

This woman can write a hell of a tune and then sing it in heavenly fashion (maybe that's why she called a recent album "Halos and Horns"), bring a strong man to tears with a sad song and lift a drag queen's spirits with a joyous ode and tacky dress.

On Tuesday night's "American Idol," the contestants generally did good by her, if not spectacular. Here's a rundown:

David Archuleta: Made me forget he's a Mormon from Utah with his tender, touching "Smoky Mountain Memories." A-

Carly Smithson: A nice twist on "Here You Come Again." And what did she get from the judges? Simon told her to fire her stylist. B+

Michael Johns: If I'm still not blown away, his take on ''It's All Wrong, but It's All Right" is still his best vocal to date. B+

Jason Castro: He picked "Travelin' Thru," the Oscar-nominate song from the trannie-across-America movie "Transamerica." It worked out nicely. Imagine what a drag queen could do with that hair. B

Syesha Mercado: I was fearing Syesha would fall into the "I Will Always Love You" trap and I was half-right. When she stuck to the Dolly arrangement, she came close to her understated take on The Beatles' yesterday. When she switched to the Whitney Houston, she was — as Simon called it — a pale comparison of the original, even if the original was just an overblown facsimile of the true original. B-

Brooke White: Her "Jolene" was oddly underwhelming. It seemed like a song that was a good fit, but the smily demeanor seemed to belie the pain in the lyrics of one of Parton's best songs. At least this one didn't go to David Cook; I was fearing a cover of the White Stripes' version. C+

Kristy Lee Cook: She got the song I consider the most touching in Parton's songbook, "Coat of Many Colors" and proceeded to drain the emotion of it. This is someone who had to give up her show horse to try out for the show. It's not quite the same as a mother who toiled to dress her daughter in quilting scraps. I wish KLC would have gone for "Dumb Blonde" or "Just Because I'm a Woman." At least we could have laughed at the irony. C-

David Cook: He didn't have any emo-rock covers to repurpose this week so he had to create his own — as he proudly announced. An emo-rock version of "Little Sparrow"? Bird-brained, like the others. D+

Ramiele Mulabay: What did she sing again? I can't even remember and I'm not going to go look it up. Dreadful and forgettable. D

I'm hoping Ramiele joins the two Cooks and goes home on Wednesday. As horrible as the Bad Cooks are, there's some joy to be found in their vocal atrocities (at least for another week or two). Ramiele, while perhaps a better singer, is just plain boring, and that's probably the worse sin when the mentor is as colorful as Dolly. I'll leave you with some words of wisdom from the woman herself ...

''When I talk to a man, I can always tell what he's thinkin' by where he's lookin'. See, if he's lookin' at my eyes, he's lookin' for intelligence. If he's lookin' at my mouth, well, he's lookin' for wit and wisdom. If he's lookin' anywhere else except my chest... he's lookin' for another man.''