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.''

Obscenely Good Times in San Francisco

"You cock-sucking whore!" the woman shouted at me as I sat on the bench on a warm weekend afternoon.

"Do I know you?" I was about to inquire when the college-age Asian woman turned her attention to a pair of women strolling by on the concrete path and called them "fucking cunt whore bitches! Fucking stupid skank sluts."

A young man with an iPod needed "to a grow a pair of balls and live his motherfuckin' life." Like me, he was also a "cock-sucking whore," which immediately made me want to get to know him better. I had been reading the JT LeRoy novel "Sarah," an absurdist tale of young gay truck-stop prostitutes and other eccentrics in West Virginia. This scene seemed to have leapt from the page.

Just when I was about to look for the Jerry Springer camera crew, the obscene howler declaimed to the park-goers that "I have Tourette's, motherfuckers! Look it up in a goddamn medical journal, bitches!" Perhaps, she did suffer from the neurological disorder that sometimes forces the sufferer to compulsively utter profanities, but the whole thing seemed like a bit of manufactured outrage, a street show of oddity.

I was in San Francisco this weekend, after all. If there was one town guaranteed to provide more liberal crazies (and I use that term lovingly) than Seattle, it's the City by the Bay. The lunacy started as soon as I got to my Hilton — not the one near the Union Square shopping Mecca, but the one in close proximity to the porn stores of North Beach and the sleaze outfits of Chinatown (A sign down the block offered Thai "massage").

In front of the hotel, a group of protestors had assembled in various outfits — animal costumes and masks that looked they were stolen from the dressing room of a WWF wrestler. What they were protesting was a bit unclear. At first, they were condemning the Scientologists. But why in front of my Hilton? Was Tom Cruise staying here? They then started telling passersby to free their minds with knowledge while the sounds of "Sweet Home Alabama" blared. Finally, they shamed onlookers who refuse to show parental affection. "When's the last time you hugged your dad?" one of them asked. 

My guess is their show continued long after I left with my friend to search out cocktails and Italian food in North Beach. I had a lovely weekend in the Bay Area, even if I did return to Seattle with a sunburned face — forgetting that there's sun in California. On Easter Sunday, I had a delightful walk around, shopping and drinking and copulating — as any good tourist should.

While the good Christian citizens spent their day hiding eggs and remembering how their dear departed Jesus arose from the dead, I was on my knees with a dick shoved down my throat as my object of devotion did its own rising act. Keep your resurrection; just give me a fresh erection. I would wager that a good number of men in this most gay of cities prefers to spend the day in cock worship. I was doing my part to spread the faith (if not a Bible's worth of communicable diseases); the man standing above me was also playing his part — at least when it wasn't firmly in my mouth.

I guess the crazy shouting woman was right, after all. I am a cock-sucking whore.

Age Inappropriate

In an effort to ensure the performers continue performing old and stale songs, Tuesday night's "American Idol" focused on songs from the contestants' year of birth — which gave us only one song written within the last two decades. And what the fuck was 17-year-old David singing again, anyway?  John Farnham's ''You're the Voice''?

I had never heard of it, and it didn't inspire me to search out the original. It was just one of the night's disappointments. I'm already looking forward to next week's Dolly Parton night (though not the inevitable Whitney Houstonized version of the Parton classic "I Will Always Love You")

Here's a quick recap:

Michael Johns: If you told me he'd score the best performance of the night on a medley of "We Will Rock You/We Are the Champions," I would have told you the sexy Aussie must have reinvigorated the original meanings of the sly Queen songs — homosexual anthems claimed for the revelry of the hetero football stadium — by doing a few Stripper David moves on the "Idol" stage. The fact that he did it with his voice speaks more to the rest of the evening than any particular vocal triumph here. B

Brooke White: "Every Breath You Take." The judges got it right: The first half was great, the second half not so much. B-

David Archuleta: "You're the Voice." His voice was OK, but Chosen David needs to choose better songs. B-

Syesha Mercado: "If I Were Your Woman." Yawn. C+

Jason Castro: "Fragile." Yawn again. C+

Carly Smithson: "Total Eclipse of the Heart." I prefer the Jessica Sierra version from "Idol" a few years back. Like many songs on Tuesday, it wasn't horrible but it was instantly forgettable. C+

Ramiele Mulabay: "Alone." She doesn't come near the Carrie Underwood version, much less the Heart original. C

Kristy Lee Cook: "God Bless the U.S.A." Simon was right with her smart song choice. This hackneyed patriotism will play well in the residents of the Land of Wal-Mart. It doesn't play so well with my ears. C-

Chikezie: "If Only For One Night." I certainly wouldn't encourage a return engagement. C-

David Cook: "Billy Jean." He once again shows there's no odd cover version of a pop hit he won't plunder for his own gain while trying to persuade the audience and judges he's an artist of startling originality and vision. He's just a hack. Who wants to bet he does the White Stripes' take on "Jolene" next week? D+

Past Disasters, Volume 2

The war on the Lennon-McCartney songbook dragged on for a second week, ensnaring the two remaining members of the band Tuesday night on "American Idol" — not that the top 11 were clamoring to cover Ringo's "Octopus's Garden." Brooke White did take on George Harrison's warmer side with "Here Comes the Sun," but nobody had the good judgment to cover "Taxman," an excellent song that resonates more loudly the closer mid-April gets. Most of the contestants settled for taxing my nerves, instead.

The good news was that David Archuleta remembered his words, which made it that much easier to forget everyone else. He leads this week's performance recap.

He likes it long, I hear: Chosen David worked it out this week. He regained any lost ground from those fumbled lyrics on the first Beatles night with a classy, indelible take on "The Long and Winding Road." If he keeps this up, nobody will be able to catch up as he travels the last 10 weeks of twists and turns. Has anyone else noticed at this point that David has a tendency to lick his lips in between lines? I'm not sure if he just likes the flavor of some lip gloss he's wearing or he's offering a salacious come-on to any attractive male audience members. All I know is I do the same maneuver before I'm about to go down on a guy. Of course, the judges were ready to offer a sloppy blowjob of praise to make up for the harsh words of last week. A

'Yesterday' once more: Syesha Mercado hasn't made much of an impact so far. For my money, she's either oversung the hell out of a song (shouting it vs. singing it) or just been plain forgettable. That changed tonight with a lovely, folksy rendition of "Yesterday." True, it's the most-covered song in history and she didn't necessarily bring anything new to it, but there was some genuine emotion and subtlety there amid the occasional pitch problem. Simon was right when he called it her best performance ever, but then hedged his praise by saying it wasn't amazing. That's good enough for second place tonight, though. B+

Well, she captured the red states: What are some of the signs that a song — however awesome in its day — has become dated? Perhaps it mentions pop culture figures and events that have long since passed or it will talk about a 10-cent soda. One thing I always look for is a title reference to nation-states that no longer exist. Take "Back in the U.S.S.R.," for instance. I happen to love this clever song (as much Lenin as Lennon in it) and enjoy listening to it on the White Album. But its time as a live song passed even before the country's dissolution back in 1991. I can see why Amanda Overmyer chose it, but it doesn't help complaints that she's just a nostalgia act. As far as the actual performance, it started off shaky but she brought some vigor to it half-way through. Not her best, but still one of the better performances of the night. B 

Swan or ugly duckling? Carly Smithson offered up an affecting take on "Blackbird," but it was the speech afterward that made the biggest impression. It seems there's more of a concerted effort by the producers (Ryan, at the least) to get contestants to argue back with the judges and rationalize their choices. Hearing Carly whine about the pressures of the music industry (yes, it's a tough industry) and feeling like a broken bird revealed a desperation to her stint on the show that had previously been simmering just below the surface. Simon was offering solid criticism, as always — even if I didn't necessarily agree with his attack on the song choice — and we end up hearing a long-winded defense by the singer. It's best to let the song and performance speak for themselves. B-

Here comes the shun: Brooke White knew it was inevitable that she'd mess a song up and the judges would turn on her after weeks of effusive praise. So the perpetually cheery folksy took it in stride and actually told the judges it was all right for them to hate on her performance of "Here Comes the Sun" (a song covered with perfection by Nina Simone). With her blond hair, warm demeanor and yellow dress, the whole thing came off as a cliché before the first note was sung, and the judges let her know it. "It's OK," she told them repeatedly. The same was true of the performance itself. C+

A day in the strife: This is an ambitious, complex song — too much so for the "Idol" stage. As Simon told Michael Johns, the 90 second time frame does the song no justice, nor the singer — not even if said hunk pulls out the desperation card (a dedication to a dead friend or relative who loved it). He nearly pulled off a similar feat with "Bohemian Rhapsody" in the Hollywood rounds, but has yet to really nail a song. This one, while an admirable attempt, was still all over the map. I still think he's good enough to avoid the bottom 3 this week, but the voting public may disagree. C

French disconnection: Jason Castro was previously unaware that "ma belle" was French. There's something about "Idol" interview segments that encourages contestants to share their ignorance with America (my theory is that it helps bond them with the viewing public, with its own share of ignorance). Anyway, he picks a love song and it's a bit of a snooze. With the right song, he has a charm that will carry any weakness in his voice. But when he doesn't connect — like tonight — it's all rather forgettable. C

Well, she should have: With all the songs in the Beatles' discography, "I Should Have Known Better" isn't the one that would leap to mind as an opportunity to shine. Simon was targeting contestants' choices all night by calling them bad songs (most of them were actually quite good but not right for the singer or the show); this pick by Ramiele Mulabay was the most forgettable of the bunch. Maybe that's why they gave her the last spot. It's usually reserved for a highlight of the evening, but perhaps producers feared voters wouldn't remember her past another commercial break and Kristy Lee Cook (who gets votes for attributes other than her singing) would be back in her stead. C 

You've got to hide your voice away, girl: Speaking of KLC, I'm thinking it's a bottom 2 death match between her and Ramiele since Syesha will get some votes this week (perhaps enough to push Michael Johns into the bottom 3). This week was an improvement over last week's country-tinged fiasco, but that's probably due to the quality of the song and not the quality of the vocals (or lack thereof). "You've Got to Hide Your Love Away" is one of my favorite Beatles compositions. But KLC didn't leave me with the feeling she understood the nuances of the lyrics when she bragged that she picked the song because it had a cool title and had never heard it before. C-

I just saw a disgrace: I don't get Chikezie, his attitude of false superiority, his horrid fashion, his throw-everything-out-and-see-what-sticks musical bag of tricks. He took "I Just Saw a Face," an absolutely lovely song, and did all sorts of horrific things with it: He started it out as a ballot (fine), added some harmonica (which he bragged that he just learned to play. Ha!) and then took it off to country music land (apparently because it worked so well for KLC last week). It was a mess. C-

What the fuck are you tripping on? The tortured artist David Cook wins worst performance of the week for three consecutive weeks (not to mention worst hair since the week that Garrett was voted off in the semifinals) with his version of "Day Tripper." Not content to "make it his own" — meaning make it a wretched emo rock number — he makes it another band's crappy cover. He found a version of the song by White Snake that he emulates. One of the greatest bands in the history of popular music and he has to go search out a cover by an 80s hair band. How tedious and pompous and plain cacophonous. Simon called it a smug performance, and that's the perfect adjective to describe Bad Hair David's tenure on the show. The voters need to do the right thing and leave only one David and one Cook in the Top 10. D

One of the major problems with the run of "Idol" this season is the choice to start out with theme nights — and then pick themes that haven't allowed thus far a song past 1989 to be used. Imagine if Blake Lewis hadn't been able to sing "Somewhere Only We Know" by this point last season. I'm all for classic rock, but let's hear something a bit more current. Not to mention that half of these contestants don't know the Beatles' discography, as crazy as that sounds. I feel like I'm in some karaoke classroom where those who don't know their musical history are forced to repeat it (in off-key fashion).

I have a bad feeling next week's show is going to be the solo catalogues of the four Beatles members. What do you think? "Band on the Run"? "Working Class Hero"? "My Sweet Lord"? Something by Ringo? Maybe Chosen David can sing the other verses he left out of "Imagine." After this week's show, I surely wouldn't complain.