American Idol

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Jacob Clifton: A+ | Grade It Now!
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She's A Snarl-Toothed Bieber!

As if the usual Wednesday intro wasn't bombastic enough, they've spliced it this week with Clash Of The Titans clips, which is funny on several levels but mostly just stupid. You got old what's-his-face screaming about the death of the Gods and then boom: Fuckin' Andrew Garcia. Like, yes, this show does presage the End of Days, but more in like a shitty Winona Ryder way and with less robot owls. If that movie doesn't have a robot owl, I shall sit right down and write a letter on some stationery.

If Simon Cowell were a mythological creature -- not saying that he's not, but if he were in this movie -- he wouldn't be the Kraken, he would be the Sphinx: Do the right thing or get your head chomped. Kara would be, like, Artemis's low-self-esteem younger sister. Randy Jackson would be Poseidon, most boringest of the Gods and the Aquaman of antiquity. Ellen would be Athena after three G&T's, when she gets fun and her brain starts doing loop-de-loops. Paula would be or already is the Oracle of Delphi, and Ryan Seacrest would be... every boy Zeus ever boned. No, Hermes, the God of Radio and keeping this shit on schedule. Siobhan would be something from some weird regional mythology you have to be a doctorate student to even know about, like, the Goddess of Rats and Scones worshipped by a small, dying group on the Isle of Man.

What am I saying, this show is all we have for mythology. Coca-Cola abides.

Ruben sings some song with such a Mary J grammar issue in the title that I think probably Shania helped. He is still just darling, even with his conceptual facial hair that looks like it ditched Sandra Bullock moments after her big Oscar win. The song is fairly exciting, and he sings really well. I might listen to this song in a certain Rioja-type mood, like when you get drunk enough that you turn down the lights and feel those feelings like it's the pre-IKEA 1980s and sex isn't broken quite yet and you're the man in the Memorex chair and all your things are futuristically matte-black and Michael J. Fox is standing there perfectly still in an orange life-vest fashion statement. Buy! Sell! Short it! Money Never Sleeps! Blue Chip! Bullish! I find it so hard to imagine a time when cocaine wasn't tacky.

Bearish! Velvet Teddybearish! It's been, can you believe this, seven years since Ruben Met Clay. He's lost all manner of weight, and gone vegan, which by the nature of the universe must mean that Clay has taken up skeet shooting. Ryan inserts himself into a Giant Man sandwich with Ruben and Big Mike, and then Ruben says all kinds of things about his life and his career, but, as I often do, I was still thinking about coke in the '80s, so I didn't really process too much of it, and when I came back to the here and now, some commercial was trying to convince me that Vitamin Water is the new Axe Body Spray. Nothing says virile man-power quite like acai berries and dragonfruit.

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American Idol

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