Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered

[Alternate titles for today's post included WTF?, What Simon Sez, and If This Is Music, What's That Stuff Cole Porter Wrote?]

I hated last night's show. Something is deeply wrong in the world when Lisa—Lisa!—is my second favorite of the night! And one of only three performances I can even stand!

(I liked Taylor quite a bit. Kellie didn't do anything for me, but she also didn't make me wince, shudder, or mute the TV, so that was something.)

After my usual thoughtful, serious, and contemplative meditation on life, I came to the conclusion that the music of the 21st century COMPLETELY. FREAKIN'. BLOWS. Clearly, I was not the target audience.

Mandisa and Katharine may have been wonderful, I don't know the songs they sang, so those weird, off notes could actually be right-on and true. Gah! What a disappointment. Same with Elliott, though his herky-jerky "dance" moves were at least a distraction from the discordance.

Bucky and Kellie both sang country songs and both suddenly kicked their feet at what seemed odd times. Is this a country thing?

Paris said she was going to be young again, and I got all excited; then she came out looking like a 26-year-old hooker, and I grew sad and confused. Didn't like the song, hated her bumpy-grindy rendition of it. Pussycat Dolls, indeed.

Ace sang all in his nose. His scar hurt me.

I am angry with Mandisa's stylist, who keeps putting her in jeans. This is not a great look for her. She can be gorgeous and sexy, so why not go for it? It doesn't have to be a ball gown every week. Even well-cut black pants would look better.

I liked Lisa's song okay and thought she sang it nicely and with a lot of passion. Though it was a bit jarring to see her sudden switch from emoting her heart out to twinkling at the judges, like the adorable 16 year old she is. I did vote for her, but weakly.

Taylor sang beautifully and looked great. I appreciated that he sat still and just let us enjoy that voice of his. I voted for Taylor, and it was heartfelt. I feel sure that the final tally will reflect this. ("Lisa, you're safe this week, but don't get too comfy. Unlike Taylor.")

And Chris. Chris! My least favorite of the night, and possibly the only time I've ever muted Idol. Okay, I didn't actually mute it, but I turned the volume down to 4, which is almost the same, when you consider that 7 is my usual Idol volume.

When Chris said that he was singing Creed, I started to panic, then realized I was thinking of Cream. (At this point Mrs. Cynicletary is rolling her eyes, saying, "See what I have to put up with?" My rock 'n' roll ignorance never fails to both amuse and dismay her.) So then he started singing and I realized, hey, Creed, Cream, it really doesn't matter, it all falls under the umbrella I lovingly call "big ugly wall of noise," and I dove for the remote.

I agreed with almost everything Simon said, and that's never a good sign.

I don't even care who goes home tonight. (I can say this because I know it won't be Mandisa, who I still love and adore, despite her fashion faux pas and God flogging. I love God too, but honey? Enough.) I've suffered a grievous blow to the spirit, and someone should be punished!

Yuck. That's my closing word.

Lady Chardonnay OUT.