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By Jacob Clifton

Tuesday

Some idiot in the booth screwed up the phone numbers for three singers in the bottom-third during review, so instead of results Wednesday, we’re getting rehashes of tonight, with “live elements,” meaning Seacrest pantsing around, and the results show will be on Thursday. My O.C. night. I kind of hope that person is executed. To repeat: This shit doesn’t matter because we’re going to see it all again tomorrow. But it was pretty interesting. The theme was Billboard #1 Hits, which means the kids only had 930 songs to choose from. Harsh!

A-Fed sings “I Knew You Were Waiting For Me,” because it’s about having faith in Cheeseheart whatever whatever Capri Sun bullshit. I would have said, “Because if you put Aretha Franklin and George Michael in a blender and baked it at 350 to a golden bubbly, you’d have Ryan Seacrest.” Then he sings horribly with cruddy hair, although he otherwise looks cute. Randy loves it because he wrote, performed and produced the song and actually there’s no such thing as Aretha or George Michael, just the effect of Randy Jackson on the music of the twentieth century and beyond. Paula’s CRAZY DRUNK the whole time and keeps tackling Simon and trying to climb him. Simon disses the faux sexiness of the dancing but mostly, he sounded horrible, and the only thing he’s got tonight is being adorable, so why choose that to criticize?

Carrie “takes a risk” by singing the totally awesome song “Alone” by Heart. Her hair is insane. INSANE. She looks electrocuted. She doesn’t sound that bad, of course, but dude, the hair is really distracting. She’s at the seashore poking her face through a wooden standup of Olivia Newton-John at the end of Grease. Sideburns. Simon tells her she’s going to win and also outsell all Idols. Even Carrie is dubious.

Scott really identifies with “Against All Odds.” Whatever. I’ll think about that tomorrow. He’s wearing a velvet jacket and a -- no, there goes the hat. He’s rocking back and forth all crazy as that beautiful voice comes out of him. He’s also wearing last week’s sun -- nope, there go the sunglasses. Pray it’s almost over because he’s not really rocking the layers. You know I love this song. Simon didn’t think it was a fantastic vocal. It was, but not because he tried -- I don’t think he’s well tonight -- just because he’s fantastic.

Bo Bice sings “Time In a Bottle.” He looks scary in the darkness and his balladeer voice is nice but boring. There’s a guitarist sitting onstage and the guy is getting as much camera time as Bo, who is kind of serenading him. There’s a terrible “la-la-la” part in no key whatsoever, and Simon thinks he rocks, and then Paula kisses Simon’s cheek and sniffs his armpit and slaps him, all in quick succession. I want to be on what she is on.

“Incomplete” was a #1 hit. By Sisqo. Who was in Dru Hill. That’s like six things I didn’t know. Nikko is dressed as…a burghermeister. He sounds thin but that control is there, and the Nikko Effect of sounding legit instead of originally sung by a miniature gay idiot. Hah! That’s how he got back in! Simon calls it his best performance and then Paula literally climbs onto his face and I don’t know who’s more disgusted, him or me.

Vonzell sings “Best of My Love” by the Emotions, remembering listening to it on the radio with her Dad, how they’d dress up like cowboys. She dances out into the audience and is totally cute, and again, just put her be in Destiny’s Child. She deserves that money they’re giving Michelle. Paula just kind of wanders around and Vonzell does a weird laugh into the camera that would be creepy if it were anybody else. Simon thinks it’s the first time people will remember her, and Paula jumps his bones. Again.

Constantine sings “I Think I Love You” by the Partridge Family because, he says, “It’s about time someone redid the song.” Dude, you’re on American Idol. This isn’t for fucking posterity. He’s wearing…oh, he looks like hell. He’s also singing in this certain…this is hilarious. I know that much. But not in a way that makes me like him more. This is like…I’m without words. Holy hell. Randy’s embarrassed for him and Paula doesn’t know what the hell is going on, and Simon compares him to the experience of ordering “a guard dog for your home and getting delivered a poodle in a leather jacket.” “That’s astute,” I say.

Nadia sings “Time After Time” and describes her personal preference as “arsy-fartsy,” which is…DUDE! Forget Carrie. Nadia’s got this totally bizarre mohawk happening. She looks like when Storm went through her Claremont shit and came back all punk and Kitty Pryde was all, “What are you, gay now?” and Storm was like, “Fucking chill.” The arrangement is pretty cool, but this has nothing to do with Nadia at all . There’s so much going on with the hair and the time signatures and the crazy shirt and the…Constantine…I’ve kind of misplaced her entirely. I’m sure it was nice but there was a lot going on? I agree with Simon that it was her weakest performance yet, and by a wide margin.

Mikalah sings Taylor Dayne’s “Love Will Lead You Back.” She looks incredibly beautiful and her totally weird affected voice is not so off-putting here; the song was a really good idea. Paula confuses Mikalah with the actual Taylor Dayne, and Simon calls her a complete and utter mess and then: some fake fighting and drunk Paula.

Anwar sings “Ain’t Nobody” by Chaka Khan. Well, this’ll be gay. He looks about as hot as he’s ever looked, but also totally uncomfortable, and sounds crappy. He’s yelly and weird and dances exactly like Pink because they’re both dudes the exact same amount. The judges all praise his last note, and Simon pretty much punches Paula in the face, because she’s being so irritating tonight, but I don’t think she’ll remember.

Then Jessica sings “Total Eclipse of the Heart” and it’s awesome. That song is so rad. The hair and makeup look gorgeous, and that achy quality in her voice I like so much, which is what this song is about, really, is all over it. It’s that country thing: take the country thing and sing non-country with it, and I will love you forever. Unless you sing Heart, I guess. The judges all freak out and tell her how awesome she is. Then, the tainted phone numbers.

Tomorrow: WE DO ALL THIS SHIT AGAIN only Ryan might not be wearing such a flattering t-shirt. Happy birthday to me.

Wednesday

Big boy clothes and a refreshingly straightforward explanation from Ryan: all votes from last night have been voided, and [cell phone company] will not be charging for last night's text votes. Which is cool because sometimes synergy works, but also: like I'm sure that'll go off without a hitch.

A-Fed's in that tight black t-shirt again, and still with the funny, sad chin hairs. His performance in the recent past is not helped by his appearance in the awkward present. I've now heard this a hundred times, and there's just no subtle good to be uncovered. The moves are still hilarious and cheesy, the crotch is still crotching crazily, smirk smirking grossly. A-Fed's hair looks even worse; Simon and Ryan share a homophobic love bite.

is Carrie, whose hair is crazy, but not as much as we thought before Nadia's hair taught us just how fucked up hair could be. It's a pretty good performance but, like, there's no there there. Her eyes don't ping. Paula found Simon's assertion that she would win/outsell every Idol ever both premature and kind of rude. Carrie's wearing another Oleson dress, giving her the best of both worlds, spin-wise.

"Scotty Body" sings "Against All Odds" and…I specialize in judging books by their covers, and it's really upsetting when people get savant, like where the affect doesn't betray any spirit, not a spark of intelligence shows in the eyes, and then they do something as deeply smart as singing the way he does, it's weird. Simon explains how without the whole history, you wouldn't really be that amazed. Somewhat valid.

"Nice" and "boring" are unworthy of Bo Bice. Even here, where he just goes around emoting and saving time in a bottle. He's…soothing and manly; he's the best camp counselor ever. Randy calls it "subdued" and "hot," and likes it more tonight. Bo loves Croce, won't cut his hair, and smiles a sec before remembering what we talked about.

Nikko comes on dressed like Jack the Ripper, then shrugs off his jacket and dances. There's a certain Urkeltude to Nikko that keeps me from seeing him as a man and more as a nice young guy who wears lots of different costumes. Tonight he's got crazy gold bling and looks like a kid in the park. Randy calls it the best performance of the night.

Vonzell is so approachable, you feel like you're singing backup for her. Paula points out how pretty she looks tonight, how great she sounds, how fun to watch. Randy calls her the most improved, and says each week she gets better and more confident. Simon calls her "infectious," and Ryan ribs her for praying to get around the set in new shoes.

Of all the indignities of this do-over show, the fact I have to watch this awful Constantine crap even once more makes me sickest. Simon "explains" the poodle thing: 2Cats being so hardcore, last night's song was like someone from Metallica singing something else, whatever, it's dumb lies and not holding my interest. Paula explains how this is all a huge joke and 2Cats admits AI's retarded and we get it.

I love Nadia's relationship with her body: she's such a dancer, the way she relates so naturally to the music. And confident! Enough so to make up her own lyrics: where a lesser performer might be "caught up in circles," e.g., Nadia find herself "always with splircles." Much more "artsy-fartsy" that way. Her pet gay boys cheer and she giggles and dedicates the mohawk to Mario V. Ryan mumbles, "Why'd he leave?" and they both giggle and have "no idea" why. SO AWESOME. Simon hates her even more tonight, at which Ryan and Nadia share a scoff.

Mikalah sings her song by the immensely weird and affected Taylor Dayne, and our familiarity with the song, and with Mikalah's weird voice, reduces it all down to one-fifth as warped-sounding, making this a good call. Mikalah looks cute (if wearing a "My Job Is To Annoy You" t-shirt: tragic), and Simon calls the song not so much the problem as what came out of her mouth. There are both cheers and boos here, hilariously. Then Mikalah attempts to lead some kind of Stonewallian fan coup or something.

Anwar sings Chaka Khan, going for a certain kind of sexy he will never, ever have. It is simply not in his armamentarium. Then he giggles, and Ryan again stares slack-jawed at Anwar, who refers to watching the video as "holistic," redeeming my use of the word "armamentarium" above. Anwar sasses Randy and gets a cheer even though he's wrong: it was neither unique nor passionate in the least.

What really comes through, with Jessica, is the beautiful vocal clarity, from note one, and perfect use of the smoky: it's a choice every time, and really neat to watch. The look she gives us at the end is incredibly confident. She's a cool musician. Paula agrees with Paula of the past, and Simon says she has one of the strongest voices in the competition.

Scott continues to flirt with Jessica, Ryan pinkie-swears the numbers are right this time, and then I like when Bo tells the chubby guitarist he'd like to spend some time in a bottle with him, it's sweet, and I like Mikalah's face, and Jessica giving me "fierce."

Featured singers tonight in the final tableau: Jessica, Mikalah, Constantine, and Bo. Guess that answers that.

Thursday

Well, Ryan. It's time for a haircut, and we both know it. Black jacket, black jeans, black t-shirt? All different shades and fadednesses of black? Are we attending Jacob's 1992 meeting of the Neil Gaiman fan club? You still look fabulous, but apparently that's a thing you can do now, like some kind of superpower, and at the end of the day, you're still Ryan Seacrest. Point being, get a haircut. Basically. And looks-wise, Simon and Randy are status quo, but Paula seems to have borrowed Mikalah's dead-turkey dreamcatcher bling from Tuesday.

Let's remember things we've seen billions of times this week: Vonzell rocked and Paula recognized. Bo "went unplugged" and if you want, you can touch him. Nikko "seduced Paula with style" and gave her goosebumps, and caused her to attack Simon, although honestly who knows whom she thought she was sexually harassing, last night.

So: Constantine sucked bad, Mikalah was a mess, Anthony was the opposite of sexy, Nadia gave everyone a certain kind of anxiety, Carrie and her backup singers rocked the house, Jessica was amazing and awesome, and Scott sang one of my favorite songs, and really well. I was also quoted this week in one of Scott's local papers as a total hater, which is dumb, because I love him. It was that whole "Let's forget about Scott" thing that set them off. Then Anwar was scary and not playing to his strengths. Then we see how those wrong numbers were so wrong, on Tuesday, when they were wrong, wrong, wrong. I mean, I appreciate you admitting you fucked up, because I wouldn't put it past this show to pretend it was somehow the voters' fault, but the degree to which you're making sure we know you fucked up is, um, fucked up. And insulting. Got it, move on.

In general, the judges were nicer upon second review of the footage (i.e., what we see, instead of whatever goes on in front of them), and enjoyed their trip into our world. Then there were a "record-breaking" 31.5 million votes (what record? Measuring what? Who cares?), which actually counted. And everybody's text messages were uncharged.

Then they sing the second of the three possible charity singles, "He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother," or as I like to call it, "A Bo Bice Song, Featuring Bo Bice." And yeah, again he starts it off, but mostly he's the only one that can start on the right note and not rely on relative pitch, which is what I thought I had and what the Encyclopedia thread tells me I have. So Constantine is not that bad, Carrie is serviceable, the crowd goes wild for her and Nadia, who works it, through to Nikko, who works it. And then goes flat, and the cheering stops.

Vonzell brings it back to melisma-rocking awesome, Anwar makes his scary blank face while hitting the notes and no more, no less. Jessica plays with it a bit and the crowd goes crazy, and all that's left is Scott and Mikalah, who are going to glory out as best as they can because one of them is going home. I don't care, but I hope it's him, because at least her body doesn't reject the stylist's attentions like an alien organ. Her face is sadder, though, so I say it's her. Then there's an embarrassing pimpomercial where they sing the annoying "Hey now, you're a rock star" song while pretending to be breakfast cereal.

So ready for the bottom three? Nikko was beloved, Constantine pretends to be worried while remaining in Suffragette City for reasons I don't comprehend, Carrie is bored until they tell her she will outsell all musicians in the new century, Carrie and Nadia watch Bo pretend to be worried and then relieved, and then Nadia is the first of the bottom three, because she looked bizarre and sang a Mario-esque song that had nothing to do with her killer voice, and everything to do with the performance, which was: weird.

Jessica's brilliant and ended the night on top and her scary family goes nuts when she's safe, Mikalah makes some (not unreciprocated) weird noises at Nadia when she goes up, Scott and his irritating buddy Fake Jesus are overwhelmingly relieved when he's safe, and then it's time to jerk the last three around before saying who is the last one on the block tonight: Anwar is safe and boring as ever, Vonzell is luminous and thanks us for "falling in love with her," and A-Fed is pleased and laughs about how deeply unsexy to the crazy extreme he is.

So it's Nadia and Mikalah, and then A-Fed is the last one in the bottom three. I'm not happy about this. I can't say who I would like to see gone, so I'm willing to advance you that I would be sad no matter what, but I kind of…Nadia rocks, okay, so never mind that, but I sort of adore Mikalah and A-Fed at this point. A-Fed has a great voice that he refuses to use, and Mikalah has a terrible voice with which she won't fucking stop. I don't know what to do. Neither does the crowd. Confusion reigns.

Randy, if he could, would save Nadia. Paula thinks Ryan should know better than to ask her, and Simon -- well, Ryan does know better than to ask him, and then A-Fed gives Mikalah a lower-back comfort stroke and goes back to Suffragette City. Then it's Nadia and Mikalah, and another stupid commercial just like five seconds ago.

Nadia's smiling because she's fine, duh, and Mikalah is adorable and sad. Nadia feels like she did a "little mohawk" and "just did her." Mikalah is adorable as she loses, smiling so beautifully at everyone, and Jessica cries a bomb, and it's both believable and ugly, while Carrie's crying? Not so believable, but twice as ugly. Then, Seacrest out, and hopefully a week will go by where they don't fuck up egregiously, right? See you Tuesday.

So last week was the Mario thing, and I honestly thought Friday -- when Vonzell was celebrating her birthday as only a cowgirl can -- while I was driving back from my rainy New Orleans vacation, that the storm of controversy would leave with him and everything was going to be okay. Blue skies. Not so. The taped broadcast this week aired at its usual time, Tuesday at 8 PM EST, and again three hours later, on the west coast, and the bottom-third graphic at the end gave the correct 866-IDOLS number, but the translation number beneath it -- I guess for those grandmas with rotary phones or people who dial TV shows so terribly often that the letters have worn off -- was incorrect for Anwar, Mikalah, and Jessica.

I don't blame them for not fixing the PST numbers, because they'd still have to scrap the results, but I do blame them for fucking it up at all, because the solution was two identical performance shows, Wednesday "including new live elements" and signs begging TPTB not to fire whoever screwed up the phone numbers. I lost an hour of my life, but I understand there wasn't really any other option. Anyway, they're jerks.

Tuesday

Simon tickles Paula as they're being introduced, and then she grabs him and laughs and Ryan fake-smiles at their antics. He very professionally does not vomit. We flash back to last week's post-elimination clubhouse hangout, again, and the kids are all opening their "gifts" and Anwar is unwrapping his carefully to preserve the paper -- which is totally a joke I would have made, had he not beaten me to the punch by actually acting out the joke I would have made, right before my eyes -- and it's the Billboard #1 Hits book. Then the author of this book appears out of nowhere, as if by magic, and tells them they get to pick this week's song from any of the 930 songs in the book. Man, that's way too narrow. How ever will they fit in their little boxes?

First up is Anthony singing "I Knew You Were Waiting For Me," because it's about "having faith in what you do, no matter how tough things get in life," and you and I both know what he's talking about: the doctors said there wasn't anybody waiting for him, but he knew you were waiting for him, and there you were waiting for him, and now here is, singing about it. Also, he's singing to superstardom, because he believes that "in the end, something special is waiting" for him. Does that make him Aretha? Or George Michael? Neither, I think, is really what he's going for.

Which seems to be…Clay, this week. He dances around and makes some Clay faces. His jacket is kind of cool -- the lapels are frayed like Jessica's old hobo clothing. His pronunciation gets more Ukrainian each week, it's fascinating. He's kind of a Clay impersonator this week, only with really bad singing. This is terrible, Anthony! The strength and clarity of his voice, which normally I mention, are not an issue here. The issue, rather, is this incredibly fucked-up, affected performance: weird breathy emphases on weird places, and cheesy hands out to the crowd and creepy hip-dancing and fake smiles and…it's all so "sassy" and painful. I think if this was the first thing I saw of little A-Fed I would hate him, instead of just feeling warm and protective toward him like everyone else he's ever met. This is just like a weird…it's like MTV Europe. This is like MTV Europe when you go, "What the fuck goes on over there?"

Which seems to be…Clay, this week. He dances around and makes some Clay faces. His jacket is kind of cool -- the lapels are frayed like Jessica's old hobo clothing. His pronunciation gets more Ukrainian each week, it's fascinating. He's kind of a Clay impersonator this week, only with really bad singing. This is terrible, Anthony! The strength and clarity of his voice, which normally I mention, are not an issue here. The issue, rather, is this incredibly fucked-up, affected performance: weird breathy emphases on weird places, and cheesy hands out to the crowd and creepy hip-dancing and fake smiles and…it's all so "sassy" and painful. I think if this was the first thing I saw of little A-Fed I would hate him, instead of just feeling warm and protective toward him like everyone else he's ever met. This is just like a weird…it's like MTV Europe. This is like MTV Europe when you go, "What the fuck goes on over there?"

He's sweating a little. I don't know. What do you say? You sounded like shit, you…sweet little pumpkin? Randy loves that song, because he worked on it with Aretha and George Michael. "Anthony's back tonight, y'all!" And he sounds like hell! Paula loved it and thinks he "came back strong" and that he did Aretha and George Michael proud. Simon thinks it was an okay performance -- which earns a booing and a hissing from the crowd, Paula, and Randy -- and mocks the faux sexiness of the dancing, and for some reason Paula starts taking total umbrage 'round about now, trying to Guarini the crowd into riot. Simon compares the deep unsexiness of A-Fed to Randy going on Baywatch, and things rapidly go to hell with yelling and ripping off of clothes. Then Ryan tells A-Fed he looks pretty tonight and they both smile incredibly fakely.

Carrie's singing "Alone" by Heart, because she wants to change it up and not sing country. To "take a risk" and "break out of my shell a little bit." And just like always happens when Grease becomes real life, she goes from country girl to big-haired rock slut in one swift edit. Except for the "slut" part. Or the "rock" part. Or any of it, really, because, like, this is a Heart song. They're their own thing. In their own little Heart-shaped box, so to speak. So she looks physically uncomfortable, in the Olivia Newton-John look, but at least she's singing to the camera. Her makeup looks really good, but man. There's Something About Carrie's Hair, per the posters. Her voice is really great -- this was a good idea if for no other reason than to show that she's not just a pile of imitative country tics like Country John on The Real World: Los Angeles.

She has this totally kick-ass backup singer whose voice works perfectly with hers. It's really kind of overwhelming. She has a bit of the scared eyes, but is coming off quite likeable. I don't know if it's Anthony's fault, but I really like this performance. Maybe I'm just distracted by her two-dimensional hair. I remember one time we went to brunch at this legendarily dissipated place on Westheimer and Mars Attacks! had just come out and all the drag queens were wearing the alien poodle-dog Martian lady hair and drinking bellinis and shrieking. And that's how she looks. Like Mars Attacks! meets Grease and breakfast with drag queens at an indecent hour. And while I agree that that sounds like a dream come true, let me tell you that the reality is not all that dreamy.

Randy goes, "Wow, man. Wow!" and notes that she's "finally coming alive." So he noticed, too. He calls it one of her best performances, and, like, I agree, and I know that working with your accompaniment can be demanding, but I swear at least 25% of the awesomeness with this was the vocal harmony. It's like somebody wanted to provide the best backup possible, and went too far. I mean, though, Randy also liked the hair, and he could be kidding about that but it does give one pause. Paula actually worked on the video for this song -- as what, a grip? -- and is also totally drunk, so she gives some kind of opinion about something. Simon loses his shit entirely and tells her she is going to win this competition and then outsell every Idol winner. Wow. Even Carrie and Ryan geek out and just kind of stare blondly at each other for awhile, because that was such a weird thing to say. It's nice, but really disingenuous to think that's not going to ping the conspiracy theorists. Has he ever said anything that blatant before?

Ryan is wearing a smashing red t-shirt that is very flattering, and it reads "I [HEART] Expensive T-Shirts." We know, dude. He also [HEARTS] showing off his guns, and I can't fault him for it, even though he's standing in this weird Tyrannosaurus Rex way throughout the entire show to make sure we notice he's been working out. The [HEART], by the way, is a Romeo + Juliet flaming Jesus heart. Is this a shout-out to me and my obsession with Ryan's expensive t-shirts? Or is it a show of ironic t-shirt brotherhood with Constantine? Who knows. Looks damn good, though. Congrats on finding the perfect shirt, Seacrest. up: a wife.

Donny Osmond finds himself in the theatre just in time to say hi to Seacrest and get his album plugged, and I am being straight with you when I tell you that this is his 54th album, okay, and they joke about how he's only 152. 54, dude. You know how many albums I have made? None. Now, I'm not a musician, so it's not surprising, but the gap between zero and 54 is simply huge, especially considering this is the first I've heard of these "albums" since he was a little bit rock and roll and I was a little bit fetus. you'll tell me John Tesh is selling out tours. Well, that was dated of me. Let's try that again. you'll tell me Minnie Driver sang at South By Southwest. Do-overs are so hot right now. But hey, though. Who cares? Why do we care? Why is Donny Osmond famous?

Anyway: Scotty "The Body" Savol, and I really hate it that Seacrest insists on calling him this. I guess, like, "Psycho Scotty" wouldn't work, but do you have to openly mock his weight? It was okay doing this with Ruben, because he had the whole other Barry White Velvet Teddy Bear thing happening, but this joke only has the one rude layer. Scott is going to sing "Against All Odds," a song you already know I love even if you don't, which is fine too, and he speaks briefly about how "some songs have special significance" and how "somebody like my dad would be able to relate to" it, what with "the situations he's dealt with in life." I don't know what he means, and I don't care. Maybe his dad was stranded on a desert island with Jeff Bridges and it was all, "She was a beautiful fugitive. Fleeing from corruption. From power. He was a professional athlete past his prime. Hired to find her, he grew to love her. Love turned to obsession. Obsession turned to murder. And now the price of freedom might be nothing less than their lives." Or something along those lines.

The strain continues to show through in his voice, but it's still so baseline awesome that it's okay. He pounds his chest to indicate that it is himself he's singing about, that it is in fact Scott that we should be taking a good look at. Not recommended. He's rocking back and forth all crazy as that beautiful voice comes out of him. The hat comes off, his sunglasses from last week come off and go skating across the stage, but since he sings with his eyes wide shut most of the time, it's no big deal, and I don't look at him when he's singing anyway, so fuck a bunch of theatrics. Then it is over. The ovation: Standing. The face: Creepy as hell.

Randy goes, "Yo, dawg, man, you worked it out tonight," and tells him he was "on and popping." He rather conveniently finds the show that pays his salary to be "hot tonight," and then Paula says he's getting better every week and is "in it to win it." He's not getting better every week, he's getting easier to discredit every week. Not to mention ruder by the second. He's kind of a jerk, I think. Simon makes the striptease joke and Scott makes one of several hideously crass faces he'll be making this week, rolling his eyes really fakely and rudely. I'm over it. I cheer Simon for saying he didn't think it was a fantastic vocal, because I want to slap him and I can't because he's on TV. It was a fantastic vocal, but not because he tried in any way, just because he is possessed of a great voice. Ryan grabbed his glasses when they went flying, and has them for him over in the Temple Grandin Area where he lives, and then Ryan shockingly wonders how Scott can even see through them, because they're so "greasy," which: inappropriate but hilarious, and Scott rolls his eyes at that too, and then claps again like Frankenstein.

Bo Bice will be singing "Time In A Bottle," which he says is "a given" because it's one of his favorites and his mother's favorite and he bought the record at a yard sale once or something. Now that it's songs I know, that's the week where they start putting the song titles and identifying information at the bottom of the screen. Thanks. Bo Bice looks very scary in the darkness with rotating white gels. The lights come up a little bit and he walks to the front of the stage, where there's a small chubby man playing guitar, to whom he sings for a while. He squats and sings a little bit and then does a terrible "la-da-la-la" part which is not right at all, and then gets it back together for the end.

Downstage, he smiles and keeps that mouth closed as the crowd freaks out for him. Randy pronounces Bo's performance "subdued" and "sensitive," his outfit "fly," and his range "not showcased." Paula garbles a strange comment -- to the spirit and not the letter of which he responds in a gracious and lovely way -- about how "his fans will believe her" when she says that he is "a gift to the 60 million people that watch this show a week." Simon doesn't think of him as "someone in a competition," and says that "it's like watching somebody who's already made it." At this point, Paula kisses him and sticks her face in his armpit. "The downside," he continues, "is that you now have the same hairstyle as Paula Abdul." She slaps him in slow drunk motion. Ryan and Bo talk about his deep love for Jim Croce, and he finally smiles the hated smile, but only for a second. Ryan and Bo shake hands and smile brightly at each other.

Ryan's arms are crazy and he's holding them against his sides to outline them. "Incomplete" was apparently first sung by Sisqo? Or Dru Hill? Who influenced Nikko's singing. He's dressed crazy like a bad guy in a Robert Louis Stevenson novel, with a big jacket over his shoulders. He sounds really thin and reedy but the beautiful control is there. Isn't the point of a #1 hit that I've heard the song? Oh, I've heard this song. He looks like Dr. Jekyll. As the voice begins to go crazy he shrugs the scary jacket and starts doing inappropriate hip dancing. There's a big loud "yeah yeah" note and some riffing around on the song. Which song is…boring, but it doesn't matter, because Nikko can make anything sound cool. He has the Nikko Effect of making this song sound legit instead of a song originally sung by a minute gay idiot…which is how he got back into this competition!

Randy is "tripping right now" on seeing "the real Nikko." Paula loved it, and got goose bumps, and says it showcased his beautiful, beautiful voice. She urges him to continue to pick songs that do this, because she has been rendered speechless and bumpy. Simon notes a few tuning problems, which is true, but calls it his best performance, and then Paula literally climbs onto his face. He is grossed out to the max. Then Ryan -- kind of a janitor this week for all the flying accessories -- hands him back his hat, and tells him he did good work up there before ordering him to feel good about it.

Vonzell will be singing "The Best Of My Love" by the Emotions. She chose it because it reminds her of when she and her dad would dress up like cowgirls and listen to the radio together. It reminds me of every commercial I've ever seen because this song is licensed to the hilt. She sings gleefully and climbs all over the set, giggling into the mic at Paula's crazy drunk dancing. Paula is enjoying the fuck out of herself tonight. Vonzell comes around to sing to Simon, who just grins, bemused, and then at the end she laughs into the camera, in extreme close-up. Her hair looks like that lady from Cold Case. Crazy on purpose.

Randy loved it, and apparently Vonzell is "back," having "showed up" tonight along with everybody else. Randy, where'd they all go? Paula thinks Vonzell "took a risk," and that Simon better recognize. Other than that, she just moans agreeably, noting that Vonzell's "vocals came out" and even if Simon doesn't recognize it, who cares? Because she did it. Randy echoes that nobody cares if Simon didn't like it. Paula claps like a seal again, and then she and Randy giggle over some weird shit. She's apparently "almost out of kisses," but "who knows" what she will do if Simon liked it. Out of kisses? The hell? Not that that's possible, but considering she still hasn't removed her left hand from inside Simon's pants where she snaked it two songs ago, where is there to go from kissing if she did run out?

Simon realizes, and almost apologizes, that is comment is kind of backhanded, but he's half right when he says that this is the first time people are going to remember her. And I think he's right insofar as she's not memorable, but I don't think this is the song that's going to change things for her. And I don't mind, because I really like her, and eventually I think it's going to get whittled down enough that we'll be forced to pay attention. But Paula's fine with it, and she throws her arms around him and squeezes tightly. So that's what happens when you run out of kisses. Squeezing.

Constantine sings "I Think I Love You" by the Partridge Family, the show of whom he watched in reruns, and he speaks from the hubris, which is located just east of the diaphragm, about how "it's about time someone redid the song, I think it rocks." The echoing and discordant sound of so many legitimate musicians' renditions of this song in the past five years alone -- the punk theme to Significant Others, Voice of the Beehive -- all playing in my head at once almost drowns out the horrible, terrible, smirky, smarmy sound of his disgusting tribute to whatever. From the neck down, he looks really nice, but from the neck up he looks like a diseased effete dandy. Like Lewis Carroll or whatever, the kind of guy who's okay for color at parties but you don't let him baby-sit. It might have been ironed, the hair, and the curls start down by his ears. But it's not his look that is offensive, it is his terrible voice, and his demonic glee and the "fun" he's having that is creepy and hellish. He's tripled the "rocker" thing, but…this isn't a rock song. It's hilarious and chillingly earnest.

Randy's kind of embarrassed for him, and calls it "interesting" and "over the top" and "theatrical." Paula rhapsodizes about his "showmanship," saying it's because of all the kids, he's most used to being onstage, and calls him an excellent entertainer who picked the perfect song and did it justice, and has an amazing fan base. Simon calls it an "odd fit" akin to ordering a guard dog for your home and getting delivered a poodle in a leather jacket. ["Having recently read David Cassidy's autobiography, I have to disagree. Given that Cassidy, both in the book and in the E! True Hollywood Story about himself, comes off as a ravingly full-of-himself douche who insisted that he rocked when actually he was itchy, it's actually an awesome fit." -- Sars] Then Randy and Paula get in a fistfight because it's funny but she doesn't get it. Constantine knows what he means, though, and he agrees. He then makes six gross faces in a row.

Segue: any mention of Mikalah brings a smile to Ryan's face. "Brace yourselves, America, it's Mikalah." She introduces her song, Taylor Dayne's "Love Will Lead You Back," with a clever point that it was fun getting such a close look at the audience last week, standing in the bottom two, but she would like to stay a little further upstage this week. Singing, she's wearing part of a dead bird around her neck, and some strange complicated necklace infrastructure. Her makeup looks beautiful and flawless and she's totally on point, physically. Even her totally weird affected voice is not so off-putting here. You know who has an affected voice? Britney Spears. Nobody actually sings like that unless they're trying to sing like Britney. Or God, Taylor Dayne, for fuck's sake. Therefore I am okay with this voice. I just wish she didn't talk like that too.

I wouldn't call the voice trained, but she knows what to do with it, generally, and in theory this song was a really good idea. Her showmanship, one might drunkenly say, is perfect. What isn't perfect is the horrible sounds coming out of her. I don't have a problem with the pronunciations or dynamics here, and she's on pitch a lot of the time, but the flubbings and weakness of her worn-out voice are just too numerous. Like notes that she just can't hit because her voice is too tired, so it just harshes out, but they're, like, key to her performance. It's ragged and tore up.

Randy misses "young, fun, energetic Mikalah," and again scorns her as "more subdued" before noting the pitchiness. He admits that she got more into it at the end, but he wonders where the "young energetic girl from Vegas" went. Um, you and Simon told her to fuck off week after week? Ryan scared the hell out of her not seven days ago? Why the fuck wouldn't she try to be as mature as possible? All she gets is smacked and hated when she tries to be fun and energetic, because for her that means being criminally irritating.

Paula was originally reminded of Taylor Dayne, in Vegas, and now she thinks that Mikalah might get caught up into not having a unique sound. That already fucking happened, way before Pop Idol was even a gleam in an ugly Brit's eye. There's no Mikalah who's like that. The girl you're talking to doesn't exist. Try going with the one standing in front of you, that you brought to Hollywood and praised for just how affected she is. Simon calls her a "complete and utter mess" and then there's some fake fighting with an emotionally labile and dangerously drunk Paula, and then Mikalah heaps on the awkwardness with a nice "Shalom." Oh, sweetie. Ryan points out that "a record contract might bring her out of her shell a little bit." You know what I love? Making the same totally obvious and pointless joke every time she's on my screen. They really start to work the fifteenth time, dude. The comedy really kicks in at that point.

Anwar will be singing "Ain't Nobody" by Chaka Khan, he tells us, because it's going to be "Funky. Upbeat. A little different, a little groove. You know, something that people can clap their hands to and actually enjoy." While I do love that he seems to admit here that he's fully aware of the fact that nobody actually enjoys his performances, on a visceral level, I think he left out the best, coolest reason, which is that it was the absolute gayest thing he could think of.

Performance-wise, what's awesome here is how deeply he does not care about this song. It's so terribly awkward. You know what it's like? Watching C.J. Cregg sing this song. On American Idol. He makes all these diva noises and it's really confusing. There's a deep, softly quiet, respectable masculinity about Anwar that keeps it from being like a drag queen? But it's so removed from anything resembling a real kind of…it's like your dad singing about a lovely bunch of coconuts. Just stop. I worried about him trying to sing a sexual or sex-adjacent song because of the whole problem there, but…he throws a hand just right up in the air. That wasn't intentional. The crowd goes nuts. Donny Osmond leads a standing ovation.

Randy calls it "another ambitious song choice" by a stylized legendary phenomenon. He means "a lady." Randy thinks it's "not his best," and at this point Anwar gets openly bitchy, around the face. Paula loves that he took her advice from way back and sang a girl song, and rose to the challenge. "Amazing job." And I agree with her, and it's a cool idea and he did it the right way, it's just that he didn't do it…all that well. Certainly not amazingly. Simon, like Randy, shies away from the girly part, but does call it risky because Chaka's such an institution of something or another. Paula won't stop interrupting, and interjects that "he did it different [sic]," to which Randy replies that "it wasn't as good!" and finally Simon, totally irritated, spits out, "Talk to me after, Paula." The equivalent of Ryan's face to Mikalah last week, and for the same reason. She's getting obnoxious and attention-grabbing and it's fucking up the flow of the show, to no effect, because she isn't understanding what he's saying, she's just disagreeing with things he didn't even say, and being very crazy. Randy and Simon agree: Chaka Khan is awesome, but a very specific kind of thing. And if you must do this thing, do it differently enough that nobody can say…it should simply not make sense for people to compare the two. That's what you need to do. Ask Nikko about this. Anwar fake-smiles and seems disgusted, but unlike Scott he's professional enough to keep from being openly assy about it.

Jessica will be singing "Total Eclipse of the Heart," awesome, for the very fantastic reason that she's "always wanted to sing this on American Idol," and this is her chance. How cute is that? And she takes full advantage. She gets more confident, more professional, more fun and amazing to watch, each week. I think, though, that she is The Rose and there's nothing I can do for her. I see her being more or less famous and eventually becoming Jennifer Jason Leigh in Georgia. For now, though, she looks fantastic, the makeup and hair look gorgeous, and her voice is rocking that quality I really like, the aching thing that this song is all about. Besides being a gorgeous joke, that is. She's wearing a hideous shirt/skirt/handkerchief thing that actually serves her body well because it makes her legs look much longer than they are. She sounds really great; it's that country thing -- take that country thing and sing non-country with it and I will love you forever. Unless you sing "Alone" by Heart, I guess.

Randy loved it, he's overjoyed by her, and she's adorable smiling about it. Paula loved it, and thinks she "closed the show right on top," or whatever, and she's very proud. Paula has lost control of her face and looks pissed as hell when she says this, calling it a "brilliant performance" and "a great job." Simon, confident to multitask, notes that Jessica and Carrie out-sang the other nine contestants, proving that the girls are not the also-rans we all assumed they'd be, back in the dawning of the Age of Mario when the girls were all straw dogs for conspiracy theorists. Hey, dude, thanks for not directly complimenting me in any way except to say that Carrie and I, who from distances of more than a few meters are the same person anyway, prove that women have skills. Ryan reminds us obliquely that she had an "emotional Wednesday" last week, and because my life has become this sick ocean of never-ending American Idol it takes me a few seconds to even remember last week, when she was in the bottom three, but he's glad that she kicked ass tonight. Me too.

Then the numbers, which are wrong so who cares, although I would like to note that Jessica does this amazing hair toss into the camera on the last downbeat. She's amazing. We see Anthony dancing kind of sexy and gay, Carrie with the hair and a really powerful and weirdly impassioned grownup performance, and Scott sounding admittedly pretty great even though I think in the last hour I just totally flipped to hating his horrible ass. Bo sounds perfectly beautiful and passable, Nikko really lost control in a good way, Vonzell was wonderful Vonzell, and Constantine…hee! Oh, Lord. Nadia lost her voice in the dress rehearsal but looked just as freaky, so it's all around a dumb clip to show; Mikalah sounds perfectly fine and looks amazing in the review, and Anwar hits the one note that made it fun and danced around. Jessica rocked the fuck out and is getting close to Nadia and Bo, for me. Also for Ryan: they're the three singers featured in the final shot standing around him. Hmm.

Wednesday

Ryan reminds us how this show is not without its share of drama and or incident. Or ratings! "Well, I was right. Stay tuned for an unprecedented American Idol." Man, I wish I didn't know what he meant, because that sounds really exciting, like, here are clips of the final showdown between Constantine and a rabid elephant or something, Mario being apprehended while dressed completely in black while climbing around in the scaffolding with a gun and a cell phone, or like somebody pouring a beer in Mikalah's weave, instead of what it is, which is sucky.

Ryan's wearing a great suit, and a t-shirt reading "I Am Not A Rock Star." Hee! "Welcome to the show that none of us were expecting. Due to human error all the votes have been scrapped." Then we look at a grip of graphical evidence about how Mikalah, Anwar, and Jessica might have handed over some votes to Anthony, Carrie, and Scott. "Fairness is paramount," and I'm sure Frenchie would agree, "so we're going to show you their initial live performances," and we'll all have to shift ourselves to vote again.

A-Fed's wearing his tight black shirt from before, and hasn't shaved in a few days. By the sparse hairs on his chinny-chin-chin, I hate this performance. I've heard it like a hundred times and there's no subtle goodness to be found in it upon review. It's not like the Citizen Kane of George Michael/Aretha Franklin duets. Remember how he got all Clay-breathy? Remember when his creepy crazy crotch went a-groining? Remember his "natural rhythm" and how he walked really slow and kept putting one arm akimbo like a bullfighter? Remember how he couldn't sustain a note across a measure without going flat or going straight to melisma? Remember?

Is the orchestration better this season? It seems much more full and intelligent. Ryan asks for clarification about the "Randy on Baywatch" comment, and Simon goes right to the ugly, all, "I don't want [sex appeal] personally, Ryan. I leave that to you." Now, either he's saying that Ryan's hot enough for him, which is awesome in that Daily Show fan fiction way, or he's saying that Ryan Seacrest wants to fuck Anthony Fedorov, which is a radically different option on which I refuse to comment, because that is some distracting shit to have to think about, or else he's just calling Ryan a fag, which is rude. I mean, we've all done it, but it's kind of awful to just score just a cruddy point like that for no reason. And Ryan's response, a lazy-eyed "fuck you," is similarly encoded -- I can't crack it because he would have made that same face to all three implications. I don't know. I don't know the deal here at all. I'm not qualified -- again, that's advanced jelly -- so I will tell you what I can, which is that it's entirely possible that A-Fed's hair looks even worse tonight. Anthony's hair looks like shit. I want more sex appeal from his hair, okay?

Carrie: Remember how she was all, "Tell me about it, stud," and her voice was scary perfect but she looked like a costume party of one, all "Alone" by herself? Remember how you wondered where this fake passion and emotion came from since she's never been alone because she was raised by scientists in a lab? Remember when you saw her butt from that one angle and suddenly realized why all the comparisons to Kelly Clarkson? Remember?

So now she's back in her normal, non-ratted hair, farm-girl clothes, fun and spunky version. Paula calls bullshit on both Simon's assumption that she would win the show, and on the fact that she would outsell all contestants, because it's utterly premature and totally rude to everybody else. And she's "a Carrie fan" saying this. Simon apologizes for having an opinion, and makes the excellent choice of telling her that her hair looks better tonight, which gets a laugh and calms everybody down and makes Carrie giggle, which is nice. He's nice, and smart, and deeply alone. I think I love Simon Cowell.

The weird thing is that I pretty much loved Life On A Stick, when it finally came on. I mean, it's not Arrested Development, so I hate it on that level, but that decision isn't really mine to make. I don't watch a lot of sitcoms, so I don't really know what the median is, but if the median ends up being Life On A Stick or Jake In Progress or The Office, I think we'd be okay. Plus they've basically ripped off the main character from Wonderfalls, one of my favorite shows ever, so that's double-edged too, but the girl does a good job and it's nice to see that character type in action again.

Constantine cannot fucking keep his eyes off the camera. No matter where it is or what's going on. Again Ryan says "Scotty Body," and then we watch him sing "Against All Odds" and…it's really upsetting to me when people get savant, like where their affect does not betray the obvious intelligence with which they're doing something. I specialize in judging books by their covers, so when not a spark of intelligence shows in someone's eyes, and then they do something as deeply smart as sing the way Scott does, it's weird.

Remember how he made no sense talking about how he and his dad identify with this song? Remember the hat and the glasses and how they came off and went flying? Remember his band-collared shirt that was half-untucked? Remember how he and Fat Joe are continuing to look more and more like each other and will one day become the same person? Remember how he has no feelings or thoughts except "kill torture maim" and nothing shows on his face ever so even with his incredible voice it's still creepy and off-putting? Remember when he earned my eternal hatred for the attitude he showed? Remember?

He got goose bumps watching his own video, but not for the same reason we do. Simon says that if you put this into the real world, without a connection to the show, and just presented him as a recording artist, this performance wouldn't seem so good. And that's valid. Scott continues to make incredibly rude and shitty faces about it. I really, really don't like this guy. Grow the fuck up, you freak. Stop being so unlikable! I know that's just who you are. Fake it for me! Ask Mikalah or Nadia about it! Be a person, any old kind of made-up person, that isn't completely ungrateful and rude and shitty to the people who gave you this opportunity. And dude? GOD IS IN THE TUB AT THIS TIME. Because if God weren't, you'd have gotten struck by lightning or something by now, because you are giving God REALLY BAD PRESS.

Bo: Remember his weird harlequin-diamond jeans? Remember how lovely his voice is, and the wonderful violin part on the arrangement? Remember how the guitarist so wasn't interested in Bo's little play-within-the-play-within-the-show about how he and the guy are best buds and he's serenading him? Remember the horrible "la-la" part? Remember how he wanted to save time in a bottle? Remember?

He looks great tonight, man. Shooting finger-guns into the audience. Randy clarifies that he did like the performance and likes the sensitive side of Bo -- that it was hot and "you did your thing." Ryan asks if by singing this song he was trying to show range in his performance. Which is funny, because it's not like it was a radically different fucking song. It was still the Bo Song, it was just a little slower, that's all. Last week was Psychedelic Bo, this week it's Hugs N Kisses Bo. Ryan's all, "Trying to show you're not one-dimensional?" And Bo's like, "No, I totally am. I just like Jim Croce." Then some bavardage about how Bo won't be getting any haircuts, ever, which the crowd loves. This is what happens if you spend all your time in West Hollywood, Ryan: you lose the ability to talk to people from the woods, and find yourself asking even survivalist troubadour potheads like Bo what their hair care regimen is.

Ryan calls it "American Idol meets Groundhog Day," and then we watch Nikko dressed like Dr. Jekyll and looking pained. Remember his Jack the Ripper jacket? Remember his Urkeltude? Tonight he's got crazy gold bling and looks like a kid in the park, remember? Remember how he's totally awesome? But do you remember the song? I didn't think so. Randy says Nikko's "finally found himself" and that it was the best performance of last night. Nikko thinks that he was pretty nervous coming back in, but is now on game. Paula LOVES it, even more so seeing it again on the screen. Again she begs him to sing songs like that.

Paul, who doesn't even watch this show, calls to tell me he's just discovered that all he has to do is vote for everybody else once, in order to cast one effective vote for Constantine's elimination. Brilliant.

Remember how Vonzell is adorable and real and approachable? Remember how this song bores the shit out of me but I like her so much that it's just like watching her sing any other song I don't care about in the least? Remember how much Paula enjoyed it, and totally lost her shit all over the place? Remember how Simon just smiled and watched her get all awesome in his face like he was getting a lap dance at a bachelor party for somebody he didn't even know? Remember?

Tonight she's scary gorgeous and sang along with the video while it was going, which Ryan loved. Ryan really enjoys the whole Vonzell thing. Paula wants to point out how pretty she looks tonight, and then talks about how great she sounded, and how fun she is to watch. She was on pitch, had her game on, is "fearless" on stage, and unless Paula's wrong, "America is falling in love with you." Randy thinks she's the most improved of all of them, that each week she gets better and more confident, better songs. (Paula: "Very confident, very confident.") Simon thinks she's growing on us, and also listening to the judges' comments. He thinks she's becoming "infectious," and has a sense of fun. Then the best conversation of the week not involving Paula:

Simon: This isn't life or death, this competition. You should have fun, and you did.
Ryan: It's pretty serious, though.
Simon: But it's not death.
Ryan: It's not death, but it's pretty serious.
Simon: No, it's not.

Ryan asks if it's difficult to hit all the marks and climb around all over everything, and she admits that she was wearing new shoes, on top of that, so she prayed. Cut to her shoes, which…are not the shoes she's talking about, and then he does an improv bit about her praying about it.

Constantine makes a horrible fucked-up face with a disgusting grin into the camera as we intro last night's shitty performance. Of all the indignities of this do-over show, the fact that I have to watch this crap even one more time makes me most sick. It's disgusting. I still can't find the words to describe what this does to me. Remember how the bitch can't sing? Remember how he was wearing a suit and turquoise Chucks and a Joan of Arcadia scarf and looked like a British pansy rocker from the Golden Age of Mod? Remember how just looking at his stupid face made me so angry it was scary? Remember how I'm doing this from memory because I refuse to watch this shit again? Remember?

Randy called it a bit theatrical, notes Ryan, but he then of course zeroes in on Simon: "So he's a poodle in a leather jacket -- don't want to ask why -- but what did you mean?" That's not really hairsplitting, because it's more like saying, "I don't want X, so would you give me X instead?" His relationship with Simon ends in a lot of contradictions and submerging what he really wants in the roiling Plathtub of his heart. Then Simon lies about what he meant and says it was because 2Cats is such a "rocker" and so it was like "someone from Metallica doing Donny Osmond," and that's not what he meant, what he meant was that the show has grossly misrepresented what Constantine is really about, and Constantine doesn't have the convictions or the strength to do anything but go along with it, but since it's inauthentic, he's just falling deeper and deeper into this ugly cycle of trying to be honest about his art while being more and more dishonest about who he is, which is making cold fusion happen in his soul like at the end of Spiderman 2, and this is causing both a sucking kind of gravity implosion and a grave resentment about the whole deal wherein he does things like sing this song and wear Guarini t-shirts, where if he'd just started out being himself -- assuming he'd made it on the show, which is unlikely -- he wouldn't be half as gross and we wouldn't have to have these idiotic meta-conversations about what Constantine's really about, because what I don't give a flying fuck about is what Constantine's really about, because what he's really about? Is sucking.

Ryan wonders, though, if one shouldn't "show different sides of yourself"? And then Paula is off and running and nearly drives the whole thing off a cliff, having just had an epiphany about how Constantine is doing a tongue-in-cheek tribute to the '70s idea of the teen "idol." Randy and Simon act like it's this big revelation and Paula's a smart gal, and I'm impressed that this kind of thing she'd even be interested in (I refer you to her ADAM PRATT shame about dancing with a cartoon fox or bobcat or…whatever), but Constantine's even slower on the uptake than everybody else (note however that Seacrest is totally on board with this, because if anybody knows about making your life an elegantly-constructed personal joke on the level of, say, William Shatner or Clay's best friend Kathy Griffin, it's Seacrest, whom I believe at this point to have a Shatner kind of cool about him), so it takes him a few beats of equivocating ("I just wanted to have fun," et cetera) before finally grabbing the lifeline Paula's just thrown him. Which is just a bit beyond his ken, in its scope, the way she put it, because in fact it's exactly what his Guarini-shirt-wearing ass wants her to say, but now he can't word his response correctly, so he just gets paralyzed, finally limping to the tongue-in-cheek finish line but coming off like he's just going along with what Paula said.

Remember Nadia in her mohawk? Remember how I love Nadia's dancing and her effortless relationship with her body and with music? Remember when she was "always with splircles"? Remember how her voice was great and she fucked up the lyrics and was cool and then the reggae beat started in and she started stalking around and dancing and then the hard-driving rock beat started and the crowd went nuts and she spent more time dancing than watching her voice? Remember?

All her gay boyfriends cheer in the audience and make her giggle. Ryan talks about how the people were calling him on his radio show bugging him about the hair. So: is she still happy about the mohawk? Definitely, and she would have come out with the mohawk no matter what, because, as she explains, the mohawk was dedicated to Mario Vazquez, and Ryan mumbles, "Why did he leave? I don't know why." Then they both giggle and agree how they have no idea why he left. SO AWESOME. Ryan asks Simon what was missing, and apparently it was everything, and that "watching it back" was even worse, and he unrelatedly grouses for them to "forget Mario, I don't know what it's got to do with him anyway." Um, it doesn't? You're just pissed they mentioned him at all, because you have a financial stake in the back end of the show, and aren't just a hired monkey like the other two and Ryan? (Good show, though, Ryan. I liked that whole sequence a lot.) What's interesting this week really is what's not said.

Simon thinks that Nadia lost her edge and seemed very cabaret. On her behalf, Ryan mentions that people nonetheless had fun watching it, I think. The only thing better than being Ryan's best friend would be being Nadia's best friend, and the only thing better than that would be being in on their weird little chemistry vibe. They're like the coolest kids in school, when they're together. The Plastics. The crowd boos, but I don't know why they didn't vote for her more, if they feel so strongly about this. Simon worries for her future if she continues to perform like this, and Ryan and Nadia share another giggle at this, because of a little something Simon doesn't get, which is called the projected anima vote.

Speaking of, here comes everyone's favorite bio-queen, Mikalah Gordon, who, if you'll remember, sang the immensely weird and affected Taylor Dayne's "Love Will Lead You Back." Remember how it was way less off-putting than it should have been because she and Taylor Dayne are weird in the exact same way? Remember how her range stopped dead at this certain note and she flubbed every note outside of it because her voice is exhausted, and it turned out her range was like an octave at best? Remember? But she was so pretty all of a sudden? Somehow I blame her friendship with Jessica for this destruction of what little voice she used to have -- you know they've been up to no damn good. The audience tonight cheers and cheers after the clip.

There's a markered poster in the audience that says, "Constantine will you marry me?" If you even want to date him, you deserve what you get. If Mikalah ever gets eliminated it's going to be totally awesome watching her video journey, because whenever I need a laugh lately I just try to remember what she looked like back in Vegas, with the tore-up hair and face. Mikalah looks cute as ever tonight, although she's wearing a t-shirt that says, "My Job Is To Annoy You," which is so Mikalah to do. Simon says the song wasn't the problem, it was what came out of her mouth. This is the second time in two weeks that Simon and I have cracked the same joke, nearly verbatim. There are both cheers and boos at this. Ha. He asks for her to agree that it wasn't great and she goes all Paula non-responsive: "I think that I'm fabulous and so are my fans! Hello there! Hello!" then she gives a speech about how she's learning and trying to get better all the time and learning from her mistakes. Simon stares at her during this with a mix of bemusement and awe and a helping of pity. Paula looks at her like she wishes Mikalah would die right in front of her. Scary. It's scary. Then she snaps fakely out of it with a gleaming smile.

Anwar sang a Chaka Khan song and went for a certain kind of sexy that will ever elude him. Remember how you could see his bellybutton because his shirt was so very unbuttoned? Remember his dead face and eyes? Remember how he was all nasally up in his nasal? Remember how he did the "come on!" clapping for himself thing? Remember how he was so bored and sang to the crowd about making out, like that was ever going to happen? Remember how everybody wants to date a nice guy but nobody really dates nice guys? Remember his silly flared jeans? Remember the unprovoked "Woo!" yip at the end?

Now he's giggling on the stage and the strange non-verbal Ryan/Anwar thing starts up again, and Anwar refers to the experience of watching his own performance as "holistic," which makes literally no sense except for he's an educator and that's where we're at right now. He talks about how he had such a great time on that song, which is a lie, and how he stepped outside himself and tried something new, which is kind of a lie. Then he talks about he tried to show "versachillity," which is neither true nor false because it is not a word. Randy again advances the idea that one must compare the vocal to Chaka Khan's, and you know what? I barely recognized that song, and I wasn't comparing it to anything. Except a song I'd ever want to hear again. And it lost out. So I don't think that's the problem exactly.

Paula asserts that Anwar is a brilliant vocalist, and then Anwar gets a little shirty with Randy, saying that he doesn't want to "align myself with someone," whatever he means by that, but that "I want to establish something new that hasn't been done before." Randy answers, perfectly sensibly, that it wasn't different enough. The audience cheers Anwar on because America right now is possessed by a rage that gets articulated in some really weird ways, so the hate for the judges grows every year, even when that makes no sense, and right now we're just hating authority qua authority and incorporating it into the spectacle of the show (viz. the national outrage and backlash against Guarini for pulling something one-quarter as intense as the shit Scott pulled this week, without comment). It's always been part of Simon's strategy, "vote for this person and prove me wrong," but in some ways it's now become a major part of the show, and Anwar's reaping the rewards of this, unjustly. In summation, Network is a movie that should be required viewing before they let you have a TV. On the other hand, Anwar's the only contestant to so cutely make the Seth Cohen/Willow Rosenberg "resolute" face about how his number is IDOLS-10, "Vote by dialing TEN!" which is pretty cool.

Remember the beautiful clarity of Jessica's voice, from the very first note? The technical skill and perfect use of the smoky voice? Remember The Look she gave the camera on the last beat? Remember how your heart jumps every time you hear this song starting even if you don't like it because you know a bunch of stuff is going to start happening because this song is a freak show and it's awesome? Remember how she did Bonnie Tyler, and she maybe even did it better than Bonnie Tyler, depending on if you're a huge fan of the whole Melissa Etheridge "I gargle with razor blades" sound rather than this more nuanced interweaving of the growl? Remember the irony of putting Jessica on the ultimate novelty song, with her voice that's in the same vein as the original artist, and then praising her, while dissing Anwar for singing not differently enough?

Paula of the present agrees with Paula of the past, repeating that Jessica sounded great last night and now has sounded great again. Ryan loves Jessica, and he and Simon have a little routine:

Ryan: Wanna ask Simon? Ready?
Jessica: Yeah.
Ryan: Simon?
Simon: What.
Ryan: We're doing a television show.
Randy: About singing? A show about singing?
Ryan: Do you have any feedback?

This isn't the first time Ryan and Simon have used her as their romantic football: remember the "Boys Are Back In Town" in-joke? Simon thinks she needed to do that, because she wasn't great the week before and was in obvious need of a confidence boost, and has proven that she has one of the strongest voices of the competition. Jessica and Ryan cheer about the fact that she will most definitely not be in the bottom three again this week, if anybody knows what the hell they're doing. I like that he likes her. She's trouble, but the kind of trouble he's well-acquainted with. They have post-grad degrees in Jelly, is what I'm saying.

Then Scott flirts some more with Jessica, Ryan pinkie-swears that the numbers are right tonight, and then the sound on this playback of the playback is really fucked, which is funny, because it's just a more heavily-edited version of what we watched over the last hour, which wasn't live to begin with, so how can the mix be off? Technically, this show American Idol suffers, sometimes. Featured in the final tableau: Jessica, Mikalah, Constantine, and Bo. Guess that answers that, if the tin-foil hate contingent is right about the numbers being unacceptable last night.

Friggin' Thursday

Time for a haircut, Seacrest. You're getting a little unruly. Constantine flashes a bit of tummy while adjusting himself at just the wrong time. Paula has borrowed Mikalah's turkey dream-catcher neckwear from Tuesday night. Vonzell rocked last night and the night before that, and Paula and Simon recognized. Bo "went unplugged." Guys, it's 2005 and none of the people watching this show know what that reference means. "Bo Bice was the bee's knees, a real hoot." Nikko "seduced Paula with style," and goose bumps, forcing her to physically attack Simon. Constantine sucked bad again, Mikalah was a fucking mess, and Anthony was not sexy. Nadia was worrisome, Carrie had an awesome backup singer who deserves a raise, Scott sang one of my favorite songs beautifully and revealed himself to be a troglodyte of not-previously-implied proportions. Jessica was fucking awesome and Anwar was kind of scary. Also, the numbers were wrong. Wrong!

There were 31.5 million votes. Wow. That's a lot of votes. Then the second of the three Tsunami Tsingles, "He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother," a.k.a. "A Bo Bice Song By Bo Bice." Constantine is…good, here. Carrie is…this is good, you guys. I don't really care for this song, but it's great. The audience goes wild when Carrie comes in, and then Nadia, Nikko, and Vonzell freak you out all in a row, although Nikko goes just the slightest bit flat. Anwar has twice the amount of scary eyes, because this is also an Anwar Song. Jessica enjoys herself, and dances around a little with a huge smile, and A-Fed's hair continues to trouble me. Constantine hits a note pretty well, and then stares all gross, fucking up our momentary rapprochement. Scott's gonna...yep. There it is. He's going home, I think. They didn't just hand him that for no reason. Well, what about Mikalah? She sounds good too, but doesn't have such a big part. Carrie sounds amazing. Bo -- Bo's not so much highlighted tonight, like I thought. That thing happens like on Divas where the melismae get all intermingled together and it's confusing.

Then for some reason a commercial with that horrible "hey now you're a rock star" song. Imagine you're a gross-looking producer dude that looks like Steve Buscemi's loser brother, and you open the bathroom's medicine cabinet to reveal…three tiny Idols dancing around. What? Oh damn, this is going to suck so bad. Carrie's hanging with the toothbrush on one shelf, Anwar twirls a giant cotton swab, and Anthony dances like the gayest b-boy in all of New Kidonia. You, Buscemi, are justifiably grossed out, and close the cabinet.

Down on the sink are Nikko, Scott, and Mikalah. Mikalah is dressed like the "Sock It To Me" girl and she looks awesome. Scott looks like a dick. I hate him now. He's a jerk. Nikko -- looks exactly the same. He might even really be super-tiny for all I know. Then on the breakfast table you find dirty Constantine touching your spoon, Vonzell in a headband, and Jessica just kind of letting fate take her where it may, on the breakfast table. Buscemi smiles, but fakely. I don't understand what's going on. Is the guy irritated by the ubiquity of the Idols? Tired of being infested by tiny people? What is the joke here? They're small. It's the morning. Why is this happening?

Nadia and Bo jerk rhythmically on your tie, and you choke because in this commercial, your throat is located I guess on the back of your neck, instead of the front, where you and I normally keep ours. Out in the driveway is parked some hideous station wagon -- the one from last week. OH! Is this a commercial? I just thought it was hilarious and fun to watch, and maybe kind of a fantasia on breakfast themes, with little tiny singing people. Like maybe a tiny little Adam Sandler movie, or a lost episode of Ally McBeal. I feel so cheap now. Now some of them are rocking out on the seat to the guy as he drives away. The others are in the middle console, which we close and then drive away. I hope the guy crashes. That was ass.

Ryan liked how Constantine carried the spoon. I don't know either. Then it's time for the business. Nikko showed the "real Nikko." So the Osbourne, then? He gave by far his best performance, and he's safe. Simon and Constantine are identically disinterested, but happy for him. Constantine was over the top, theatrical, showmanlike, and a poodle in a leather jacket, and he's safe because ever since Mario left nothing's gone right for us. Carrie took risks and will outsell all people who ever made a musical recording, so in order to win, she's of course safe this week. Bo was subdued, a gift to the viewers, and comes off as someone who's already made it. He's really cute when he rolls his eyes, all relieved and uptight. He fist-bops A-Fed. Cute! Nadia rocked it but it was her weakest performance by a mile. She's the first of the bottom three. Simon traces his lips with a finger creepy-pensively as her family and friends stare angrily.

Jessica -- the crowd goes wild -- was brilliant, closed the show right on top, has one of the strongest voices, and is safe. She's so very happy to be safe, she can't look at anybody or speak. Mikalah was not young, fun, or energetic, was somehow reminiscent of Taylor Dayne, and a complete and utter mess. Somebody woo-hoos at this in the audience, and she looks out at them like, "Quit." She and Nadia yell "baby" at each other as she joins her on Loser Lane. Ryan talks about how Scott did a good job, and he irritatingly addresses (or threatens) Jesus this entire time. I hate him. He raises the roof to God some more when he's safe.

Anwar wasn't his best, did an incredible job, or wasn't that good. Vonzell took a risk and America is falling in love with her, and had a real sense of fun. Anthony impressed Randy, winks at the camera, made George Michael proud and maybe a little horny, and was at least a sexy as Randy on Baywatch. Then Anthony is…going to have to wait to find out.

Of these three, clearly it's Anthony joining Nadia and Mikalah. Everybody boos and is shocked and Ryan can't stop touching him. But I mean, clearly A-Fed's safe here. If Randy could save one (the crowd screams "NADIA!"), he says Nadia, Paula tells Ryan he should know better than to "say that to me" because she loves them all, and she's slurring badly right now. Ryan then avoids Simon altogether, and he smiles bitterly about it because this is a good call, because he's becoming a hater on all three of them. The people all scream "NADIA!" some more, and then Ryan sends A-Fed back to Suffragette City. His cheeseheart can't take this crap, you guys. He and Anwar fall into a deep embrace from which the camera cuts immediately.

Then there's another commercial, and Mikalah at least keeps her stupid trap shut, so that's nice, but…this is dumb, I mean, she's clearly going home. And that makes me sad, and the fact that it makes me sad makes me sad, because I am not an indecisive person, or all that fickle in my real life, and I know that she has no business being here, but she's adorable and I look forward to her antics and what will I say about her, and what will she wear, and how bad will she get? You know? She is this season to me, in a lot of ways, and that means something's dying tonight. Now all I have are people I love, like Nadia, and Jessica, and Bo, and people I just hate, who are named Constantine. Nobody to think about and wonder if I'm going to hate or love each week. Well, Anthony, kind of, and Carrie, but that…that's really not the same thing at all, is it? They're offensively inoffensive, and Mikalah is…apocalyptically and wonderfully and vulnerably offensive, and I kind of need it. Not that I wouldn't run her down in a hatchback to have Judd back, but…I'm bummed.

So both ladies know it's Mikalah leaving, and they're both a little sad about it. Do you stand by your assertion, Nadia, that your performance was not regrettable? Ryan is funny sometimes, y'all. "I feel my brought my edge on, I put a little reggae and a little rock on it, a little mohawk. I just did me and that's all I can do." Mikalah laughs and then…gets kicked off. Nadia hugs her, and her scary mom is sad. Jessica immediately starts weeping uncontrollably. Mikalah smiles beautifully, because again: holding something back. Carrie fake-cries so fakely that it's the most awesome thing she's ever done.

There's a video memory of the first time I liked her ever, when she said about Simon going to prom and he turned her down. She chats with Ryan as the video goes on, but you can tell she's just grateful to have something to focus on instead of making small talk and straight-up crying. She smiles watching herself perform, because that's all she's ever done: watch herself perform. She wants to be remembered as someone that makes you feel good. Carrie fake cries more. Nadia actually cries. Ryan's going to miss what she brings, which is something unique. Hep C. Jessica has completely lost control. Mikalah thanks the judges and the fans and her fellow singers. Jessica is Freaking Out, did I mention that? Mikalah laughs that she's certainly going to miss getting shit on by the judges on a weekly basis, which is funny. Jessica is out of her mind with sadness. Who's she going to do body shots with now? Fucking Carrie? Doubtful. I bet you one hundred dollars that Anwar will be her new best friend. There's not an attractive or unhateful word for the kind of girl that she is, at least there are none I personally like to say or hear people use, but she's a friend to the gay, is what I'm saying.

It would be SO awesome if Jessica Sierra became the Andy Dick of this show and just became best friends with whoever she needed eliminated . How cool would that be, you know? "Come on, Mikalah, who needs sleep? Let's go scream into the air conditioner for six hours and then lick vodka off the kitchenette floor!" "Carrie! Let's go shopping! Hey, try this, it goes in your nose! I just met these sailors! One is from a farm!" And then the week: "A-Fed, you'd look really cute in these gauchos. Yeah, they were mine, but I loaned them to Lindsey. I found them in the closet. Put 'em on!" "Hey Scott, wanna play spin the bottle?" And then only Nadia and Bo would have God to protect them, but then, that's the final Three I want, and I love her but I don't really care if Jessica gets further than that.

Dear American Idol: Please try not to fuck my life up this week. Okay? Seacrest out.