And now, a moment of AI indulgence...

Am I the only idiot still hooked on American Idol? I realize this season features the most uninteresting, uninspiring group of finalists of perhaps all 6 AI seasons, and that there are only about 3 truly talented vocalists among the top 12 (and at least 1 truly unqualified what-the-hell-are-you-doing-on-this-show contestant), but I find myself faithfully following each episode nevertheless. Is it because I find mediocrity so fascinating and satisfying? Is it like the morbid attraction one feels towards train wrecks and roadkill? Or maybe I am foolishly waiting for something spectacular to come out of all the blahness. Perhaps I like feeding my masochistic tendencies by listening to Ryan Seacrest deliver artificial spiels with his trademark smarminess. Or it could be my growing curiosity about Paula Adbul's mental and psychological instability (if she's not drunk, as she insists, then something else is wrong with that woman).

In defense of Idol, there have been occasional bits of saving grace this season: Chris Sligh's wry sense of humor; Jordin Sparks' sweet, infectious smile; the cool fashion stylings and teenybopper appeal of Blake Lewis and Chris Richardson; the catty you're-gayer-than-I-am repartee between Seacrest and Simon Cowell; and the mind-blowingly good rendition of "I'm a Woman" by my favorite finalist Melinda Doolittle (I have never heard anyone sing a single letter so well-- that last "n" was perfection). Yes, it's a crime that poor Sanjaya Malakar is still around (the kid looks more and more miserable every week-- have a heart, America, SEND HIM HOME!), but if you ignore him and overlook the other dull, dreary, disastrous performances, there's flashes of gold to be seen. And it's for those rare glimpses that I still tune in to American Idol, like the silly little fool I am.