Of American Idol

Somebody tell me why America, when voting for their next American Idol last week, decided to eliminate the only 2 remaining contestants who were not white. (Lil is African-American, Anoop is Indian. Not that their ethnicity should be the deciding factor in this talent competition, or is it?

I wouldn't usually complain, but it really bugs me. The reason why I suspect that there's an element of racism in the whole voting thingamajig really stems from the fact that Anoop was eliminated. Lil Rounds may have had it coming for weeks, but Anoop was not the worst contestant that night. Of course, I may have been paranoid. Anoop may have been eliminated because America just didn't fancy his arrogant behaviour, or because he doesn't perform better, considering he actually has a decent voice. I don't know anymore.

Then they tried to undermine the value of democracy by introducing the 'Judges' Save'. They say that the Americans vote for the next American Idol, but they didn't tell the Americans that their votes would decide who the winner was - PROVIDED THAT THE JUDGES AGREED. Who represents America here? The voters who reside in the United States of America, or a panel of 4 celebrities? By the way, America only listens to ONE of the FOUR celebrities they put up there in that redundant panel. And that ONLY judge they listen to, is not even American. I wonder if they would eventually include the Judges' Save in actual elections. Doubt Obama would have gotten the job then. Especially if Simon disapproves.

Let's just say that the Judges' Save doesn't obstruct the democratic process in any way, let's look at WHO they saved. Matt Giraud. The fella who wasn't even initially voted into the top 12, because he did a HIDEOUS (I mean, it-stank-to-high-heavens-H-I-D-E-O-U-S) version of a popular Coldplay hit. He needed to be handpicked by the judges in the wildcard round.HOW MANY SECOND CHANCES DO THEY HAVE TO GIVE THIS GUY? I am all for the concept of rehabilitation, and I get that the judges love him, but pimping him like that makes it really very unappealing. (Not to mention he is no looker either. Reinforcing the 'unappealing' comment). Even if we choose to disregard all that, he hasn't really been giving consistently good performances. His butchering The Fray's 'You Found Me', and his less than remarkable impersonation of Bryan Adams being prime examples.

Democracy. Right.

Ok, I shall refrain from bullying Giraud. Let's look at the rest of the contestants. I must say that Kris Allen, Allison Iraheta and Adam Lambert have all given quite a few memorable performances. My question is, why is Danny Gokey receiving so much adulation from the judges? He may have been good enough to enter the top 12, but he hasn't shown much progress or evolution ever since. Almost one-trick-pony-like. All he does is Strut up stage, scream in a gravelly voice (it is perceived as 'mad singing skills' and 'emotion'), and smile in a goofy way (I mean really, even-Spongebob-wouldn't-be-that-goofy kind of goofy) while the judges literally drown him in praise which I can't really say for sure that he deserves.

Oh, I shouldn't complain. At least America actually votes for him, and keeps him there. More than I can say for Matt Giraud.

P/s: To all readers out there. Please take note that I have chosen to talk about a nice, light topic - TELEVISION. Rejoice, because your joy may be short lived. I may get back to my dark, bitter mood anytime soon :)

Here's Allison's breakthrough performance in Disco Week


And here's a really awesome song from Snow Patrol "Run"

Snow Patrol - Run
Uploaded by erichedly

You may have heard Leona Lewis' cover of this track. I still prefer Snow Patrol's version, though. What do you think?

*Edit: Matt Giraud was eliminated. FINALLY. Glad to know my remarks aren't far off the mark.

Life's Cycle in Detail

Life is a cycle.

Let's begin with the first stage.

Life came to be when a single ovum is fertilised by one sperm, forming a zygote.

Cell differentiation takes place, a foetus is formed, with little fingers and little toes. Ultrasound scans reveal this creation as a hearbeat, as a shaded area which indicates that there is a presence. For there is a presence.

Further Mitosis takes place, but before the foetus can actually become a baby ready to enter the world, man intrudes on the natural process. While there may be natural reasons why a foetus doesn't survive a full term(miscarriage, ectopic pregnancy etc), man interferes anyway. Sometimes the foetus' head is crushed, and it is pulled out of the womb before it can become a whole new individual. The D and the C. Dilated. Curreted. Ejected. Aborted.

If that unsavoury and sometimes deemed murderous process is successfully avoided, we will have further growth, and the foetus becomes fully life-sized - a baby.

The baby is born within the year long pregnancy term. It is a new beginning.

Technically anyway.

Because once the baby is born, the process of dying begins.

But don't worry, there's a long way yet. The baby grows. Accumulation of calcium form strong bone structures, consumption of protein builds more healthy tissues, and the baby becomes a tottering child. Who trips over and falls, scrapes his knees, and creates the first scars the child would have. Scars of the physcial variety.

Scars that cannot be seen by the naked eye may be formed soon after, if the child is unfortunate enough to have parents who are fighting bitterly over custody after a messy and almost violent divorce. They may even haf scars of both varieties. Abusive parents who assault them, punch/pinch/cut/scratch them mercilessly, or burn them. The extreme trauma is the scar tissue that can be found in their tender, innocent souls. The child learns that even souls can be torn and destroyed completely.

The child grows up, at least physically anyway, collects more scars. While some wounds heal, through occasional bouts of true happiness, some wounds remain bloody. Others fester, and ooze pus with every excruciating movement made. Some hidden bruises and broken bones are present too. It would be asking for too much to expect that this damage can be mended. Perhaps if the child-cum-adult attains maturity and absolute enlightenment.

The adult dies. At a tragically young age, or at a awfully old age. Some couldn't survive the wounds life inflicted upon them. Some chose not to stay on to treat those wounds, or to endure more. They inflict the worst, most fatal kind of wound upon themselves. Death by suicide. Others suffer in silence. A select few keep the optimism, and attempt to alleviate as much pain as possible through religious, spiritual means by being the good people they always aimed to be.

Many of them fail, and they just die of the extreme disappointment. The regret and wasted years put the heart to a stop. The neurons cease to send impulses to the rest of the body. The combination of Physical damage, and irreperable mental and emotional damage ends the whole journey.

The process of dying that started when the baby made its first sound outside the womb is completed.

The body is either burnt to ashes, or buried six feet under. Ashes are scattered into the ocean, or in the gardens. Air, water is contaminated. Ashes all comingle, and become organic matter. Bodies decompose under the ground. Maggots burrow through the cold flesh, the overpowering stench is kept from causing the living distress as its contained in a coffin underground. The product, once again is organic matter.

Life is a cycle. And now we have come full circle.

Robert Plant & Alison Krauss - Killing the Blues




Well, I included both the live and the studio versions. I thought it would be nice to feature the biggest winners in this year's Grammys, former rocker Robert Plant and bluegrass legend, Alison Krauss. Melody's quite beautiful, actually. Enjoy.

Indifference

I wish you well.

Ok. I lied.

I don't wish you well.

HAHA. Caught you there, didn't I? I don't usually wish people well. I wish them all the viper venom available in the underworld.

If you agreed with that statement, you have really demonised me.

I am a good person. Or at least I try to be. I really do wish some people well. Just that I don't blog about them much, really. I like to focus on the pain, the bitterness and the ugliness.

But today, I'll do something different.

I shall be indifferent. You won't see the expression on my face. I have put up a pokerface. I am a robot. Untouchable. No feeling.

You can go ahead and do all the stupid things you have been doing for the past 24 hours. Setting those lofty goals you know are going to crash and burn in 5 minutes. The time doesn't matter. You're just going to sit there like a dog dinner, waiting to turn bad.

I'm not going to bother being mean, or evil. I never intended for that anyway. You just continue your wonderful work. The wonderful work you have been doing to make a fool of yourself. You make plenty of people sick, but not me. I no longer get sick at the sight of you.

There's only one emotion I am in touch with when you come into the picture - pity.

You pitiful, pitiful thing.

You thought you would win, didn't you?

You sad little poodle. Run along now, go back home with your tail tucked between your legs. You have made as much impact as a maple leaf has in Niagara Falls.

You have my sympathy.

I hope you choke over it.

Pokerface - Lady Gaga

Buffer

As a buffer for my caustic post, I shall try to relieve any feelings of shock or outrage over my intensely morbid blogpost themes by posting here a silly love song.

One that is naive, one that can only work if you still believe completely in the notion that love conquers all.

To all those who are still romantics, and hopeless ones at that, I have finally proven I have a soft side by posting this here.

(Everything I do) I do it for you - Anoop Desai - American Idol Season 8


I'm not sure if love really conquers all, but I hope Anoop conquers more eliminations. He was placed in the bottom 3 after this stellar performance. (Cue:gasps of outrage)

"You know it's true, everything I do, I do it for you"

*Attempts to resist the urge to throw up*

*Edit: By the way, Anoop Desai has just been eliminated from American Idol. Just look at what happens to the people who champion love and affection. It never ends well. Learn that, people :)

Survival

Before:

Life was beautiful. Endless opportunities for success. The stars in every universe were aligned to ensure my world domination. Nothing stood in my way. The world was my oyster. Painful failures were especially painful, as I expected nothing short of perfection and excellence. There was no other option than to win. Win. and win again. and again.


After:

Failure after failure after failure came about. I adopted the same strategy. Accept nothing but success, reject failure. Which meant I ended up rejecting myself. Like a donated organ transplanted into a patient. The result? Systemic organ failure. I found out I wasn't as resilient, or nearly half as successful as I though I'd be. I hated things, and became bitter. I couldn't take the pain that came every other time I attempted a new challenge. I was haunted by the fear of more pain, and therefore declined to fight. I lashed out, and tried to salvage whatever pride that was left. Life was lovely. Life was beautiful

Future:

You're just waiting for me to fall, aren't you? Pack your bags and return to the deepest recesses of hell, you fiend and demon. Go bring your bloodsucking ways to the weak, you'd feel better about yourself that way. Yes, that's all you're good at. Hovering around just like hungry vultures, but not equipped to deal with the likes of me. You think I'm going to fade away? You think you can dance on my grave in the near future? Come closer. I'll claw your eyes out. I have plenty of life in me. And I'll use every ounce of it to make sure you'll never move an inch closer to happiness. If you think you can try a hand at ruining mine, you can be assured I'm bringing you down with me. And when we're at ground zero, the bottom of the deepest abyss, I will do everything in my power to make sure you'll never surface again.

I'm a creature of survival. Give me pain, I'll suffer. But I'll bounce back. Don't you for one second think you can catch me offguard. Because once you've done me wrong, it won't matter if you're vigilant, or careless. You'll see your end eventually. Vengeance will find you. I am vengeance. And vengeance survives every calamity your throw in its direction.

I will survive all this, because I have a reason to. I will wait for the day that I can finally serve unto you everything that you truly deserve.

I Will Survive - Gloria Gaynor



I Will Survive - Cake


Both versions have their charm, no? Readers, don't let anyone ever get you down. Fight back, and watch them shrivel in their pathetic parasitic existence. They, all of them don't matter. But you? You will survive.

Chance/Opportunity

I'd like to believe we all began with a clean slate. That everything was nice and normal at one time.

I'd like to think that everything was a possibility. That we had the chance to shape our destiny. That we had every opportunity to fulfil our wildest of dreams.

But I stopped thinking that way when things started going wrong. When the best of intentions turn rancid in five seconds flat.

Things become a mess. Solids began to fall apart. Liquids began to evaporate. Gaseous material finally cease to be.

The cycle repeats itself until there's nothing left. Your expectations? It's that stain you see on the floor.

That bit of filth. Even scouring with detergent won't get it off. It's especially foul, especially repulsive. The worst thing is that it's so stubborn, and it's there to stay.

But let's forget about all that now. We can have a fresh start. We'll put a nice persian rug on it.

A white persian rug. Pristine, immaculate, untouched. Until fools and idiots rub the dirt on the soles of their feet on it.

It was the beautiful rug, that looked so revolting. When we see the sweetest of things turn bad in five seconds flat.

That was the second chance, that was the fresh start. Enough, Zig Ziglar. I'm no longer going to buy the crap that you can pick yourself up from failure to start again.

The only thing you're going to achieve is to grab that new opportunity, and watch as your desperate grip renders it to dust on the surface of your palm.

3rd time lucky? I'd like to think so. We can place a plastic sheet above the persian rug, perhaps.

But we know what happens to clean slates. Corruption leaves its taint. And destroys it completely in time.

3rd chance? You blew it.

Second Chance - Shinedown

Live

Let's have a talk now, shall we? Enough of these dangerous accusations that were thinly layered with metaphors.

Life is tough. I guess you already know that by now.

Electing Barack Obama isn't going to solve that problem. We might want to look at this major breakthrough global event as a beacon of hope, but I'm pessimistic that it would bring any big difference in the long run.

Don't get me wrong, I'm really glad that the African-Americans in the United States have come this far since the Civil Rights Movement. I'm not talking about us being more tolerant of all individuals, regardless of race, skin colour and religion. We may have passed a major milestone in that department, but have we really progressed?

Is there going to be hope of us making things any simpler? 'cause things sure look complicated. Which was precisely why we were bummed in the first place.

I repeat, life is tough.

They say when life throws you lemons, make lemonade. I put it to you that life throws you rotten lemons, and forces you to eat its foul-smelling contents whole, mouldy rind and all.

TV is the only solace. Only on television shows we can see stories where there could be some happy ending. We can once again be humans who are in touch with our emotions, our humanity. It's wonderful to see it on television, and it's wonderful we give them so much support by offering them emmys, Golden Globes and Oscars. We know we're giving these artists gold stars for reminding us of what we used to be - people. People with real dreams, who were real, who wanted real things, and who didn't hanker after the wrong things in life like fools who run after their own shadow.

Life sucks.

But you have to live it anyway.

I know many will disagree with me. You will think that I'm being a skeptic, that I don't know what I'm talking about, because I'm some bitter, morbid idiot who knows nothing about what life really is about.

But note that these observations of mine aren't far off the mark. You may have a certain measure of happiness and love in your life, but that's just it. And knowing human nature, to quite a lot of us out there, it isn't enough to cut it.

And that isn't all, all of it can be taken away from you. You could lose it all. It may be your fault, or it could be something we all like to call fate.

This obsession with money? It really isn't worth our time, isn't it? We can't bring our bank accounts to the grave. But you sure need one to purchase a grave in the first place. Materialism. Why do we have to be so judgmental, so self righteous, when we know we are filthy sinners ourselves? It's so sick sometimes.

What is all this? Why are we running in circles until we end up six feet under? Until we end up at the doors of Hades? Was it all worth it?

I don't know.

And I don't care.

I shut up, and I eat my vegetables, even if they've gone bad.

I live.

Period.

I'm Not Ready To Make Nice - Dixie Chicks

Keep on Walking

You know you've wronged me, so stop pretending. I know the reason you're back here. It's to gloat. You want reassurance that I am miserable.

I love you just the way you are.

I want you to stay that way. Keep stabbing me in the back when I least expect it. Gets rid of the itch i have in a jiffy.

The itch to put your life to an end.

I'm not talking about death. That would be too easy for you. I want you to watch as everything you wanted, everything that mattered to you, everything you spent your life building fall in front of your eyes. Everything you put love an attention to nurture I wish to poke holes into with a ball point pen. I'll stomp over the broken pieces after I've pushed the vase over, free of charge.

Oh no, I wouldn't want to do it the way you do - shady, devious plotting behind your back.

I want you to watch.

Watch closely.

After I'm done, you can watch me walk away.

I'll keep on walking. So you can keep on watching.

I might come back for you again someday.

Keep On Walking - Jem


Heard this one at the end of Season 2 finale of Damages. Cool tune. I like it. Enjoy :)

Spaceman

An impending supernova.

Threatens.

To put everything I know, everything you know,

out of existence.

And you don't have the time to hear it.

Artemis stepped out of Pallas Athene's palatial abode and into Earth,

and told us all that Venus would crash into our atmosphere.

And you don't care.

Al Gore told us a long time ago,

that interplanetary communication wouldn't be possible.

Because Earth would cease to be in a very short time.

You tell me global warming is a myth.

What proof do you need to convince you,

that the solar system is against us, you and I.

I am in the solar system, you are in Andromeda.

So I'm here, getting scorched by the dying sun for the rest of my life.

While you whirl away in some conceited effort to prove you're above me.

You're better, and I'm always the one who has to concede.

Guess what.

I'm Pluto.

I'm cut off from the textbooks, and every other bit of astronomical information,

you insist on possessing.

You can possess all the genius, arrogance and deceit in the world,

but you can never possess me.

You aren't demonic enough for that. You're just cold, dead.

Like the aftermath of a supernova.

Like what the overwhelming destructive force a blackhole would leave behind.

Let's not fool ourselves.

The Universe has nothing to do with it.

It's you. Your foolishness.

And your idiocy.

Communication fails, not because of the light years between us,

but because you're just too stupid to figure out why.

Spaceman - The Killers - Live at the Australian MTV Awards

Ego

Your ego is a size of a

melon

obscenely huge melon.

I'm not sure if you were of the genetically modified variety.

But this melon hasn't stopped swelling since I picked it up from Tesco.

Knowing how genetically modified foods can be potentially harmful to our health,

I refrained from slicing into that melon, and having a taste of the sweetness within.

Because I knew the sweetness had a tinge of decay in it,

that I would be left disappointed.

It did look like a pretty melon after all.

Complete with the freshness and fragrance of a regular melon.

I knew it wasn't a regular melon, though.

It grew and grew even after it was harvested, after it was picked, weighed, and paid for.

I left it.

It turned bad.

It still swelled.

Beyond all possible melon-like proportions.

Sweetness turned into a soft gooey paste of foul smelling substance.

Your ego swelled so much it burst. Like the rotten melon, we see all the stench and ugliness inside.

Your head is so swollen, so let me just use a blunt knife to make a slight incision.

We must deflate it. Or you'll be the melon no one buys in Tesco.

Genetically modified or not, the ending is still the same.

I'm throwing that rotten melon, and your ego into the dustbin where it belongs.

Have You Met Aunt Justice?

The human mind is complex. A statement I really don't have to justify.

It is complex.

It comes up with complicated concepts such as justice.

We see many things happening round us.

We respond in the usual ways.

Do I accept? Do I reject?

Am I fine? Am I a wreck?

Should I be happy? Should I be sad?

Decisions that really don't matter. Especially when you think of the day you leave.

When the maggots dive deep into your cold, pale flesh.

We know for sure that the maggots are happy then.

So why justice?

What is it?

It is what it is. A concept. A complicated one at that.

Again, remember that the human mind is complex.

This is justice.

But this isn't.

Logic tells us to just leave it at that. It tells us this is all ramblings of a fool,

nothing we should pay any mind. But logic herself is a fool.

Imagination and her sister Hope tells us otherwise.

They say don't give up. The concept may be difficult, but it's there.

It's there for the taking.

All you've got to do is embrace it.

Hope is naive. Imagination dies soon after. The obituary's not seen in the papers.

Nobody wanted to pay for it.

Justice?

I'm sorry, but she's not here.

Justice?

I'm sorry, but she's supposed to be here.

Justice?

You're knocking on the wrong door. You'll never get hold of her that way.

Get her cell phone number. That way, you may have better luck gaining access to her less-than-generous, less-than-easy arms.

The human mind is very simple, not as complex as I thought it was.

We're all fools.

Justice is a simple concept. Not complicated in the least.

It doesn't exist.