Tonight American Idol visits Birmingham, whence, as Seacrest reminds us at least 400,000 times, hail Ruben Studdard, Bo Bice, and Talylor Hicks. BFD, I say.

First audition we see is Erica Skye, who is cute and blonde and curly-haired, and who is majoring in biological science (I think that's the same thing as biology? I don't know) at Auburn, with possible dreams of dentristry. So that, I assume, she may re-enact "Little Shop of Horrors" more realistically. Anyway, she's a much worse singer than even Steve Martin, and she sings "Unchained Melody," which for some reason everyone thinks is Simon's favorite song, even though it's obvious that Simon hates all music not included on "Sexy Back." It was so bad that Paula had to get up from her seat. Well, that's ostensibly why Paula got up. They tell her no, and as she leaves she brushes the dirt off her shoulder, which makes Randy guffaw and Simon ask what it means. Paula tells him that it means "fuck you", and Simon writes that tidbit down in his Notebook of  Stuff That Only Looks Cool When Black People Do It.

Then comes circus freak Katie Bernard, who could make a reasonable living as a voice actor for child characters. Her voice gets all high and squeaky and, like, weird when she's nervous or excited, and she admits that it sounds like a little girl, and that when she answers the phone, people think she's three. Okay, 1) that seems like a psychologically based problem and if I were her I would see a therapist. Girl got the shit molested out of her as a child. 2) Imagine what it must sound like when she has sex. Her husband is a pedophile. Her singing voice sounds like a grown-up, at least, as isn't half bad. It's not that good, but they let her go to Hollywood. Side note: today Paula is so high on life/crystal meth/fruit roll-ups that she literally cannot stay in her seat. She's like an unruly kindergardener. Who, if a cartoon character, would be voiced by Mrs. Bernard. It all comes full circle sometimes.

Tatiana McConnico is tiny and from the ATL and awesome. Diana Walker is large and from the ATL and not awesome, plus her boobs look really weird. And Seacrest made fun of her for being too fat to be a cheerleader. Sometimes I don't hate him that much.

Bernard Walker sings "Rock With You" so well that Randy mouths the lyrics along with him. Simon says he's "very good," but Paula thinks he's off-key, but you have to take that with a grain of salt. From the rim of the margerita glass she has stashed under the desk.

Then we get to the only part of the show that made any sense to me, when Margaret Fowler, who is nicknamed Big Bird by the producers (75% because of her impressive girth and flamboyant yellow feathered ensemble, 25% because it's a pun on her name. Maybe.), befuddles Simon so much that he voices the opinion that the majority of the nation has held for at least three years: "I've got no idea what this show is anymore." No shit. Margaret is a snappy dresser but a lousy singer, plus, as it turns out, she's 50. She looks good for her age, though. BBILF?

Jamie (or Janie, I couldn't understand her at all) Lynn Ward is cute. She has nice boobies. She doesn't really have a nice voice, but they let her go to Hollywood because her dad is paralyzed because he shot himself in the throat when he caught his wife cheating on him. Pfft, whatever, JL.Quit your bitching and get a vocal coach.

Last contestant of Day One is Chris Sligh, who looks sort of like Jack Osbourne while he was still fat, if he had poodle hair, but who sounds like Jack Black if Jack Black weren't always singing songs about kicking some girl in the cunt and shredding a bass. Chris's goal is to make the Hoff cry with the beauty of his song, and while he'll have to wait a while to accomplish that, he DID manage to cause Paula to roll around on the floor, convulsing from music-and-Cuervo-induced orgasms.

Come Day Two, Paula is unable to show up because of a "family obligation" (to witness the wedding of Uncle Frangelico to Tia Maria, ceremonies performed by Captain Morgan, reception to be held at Boone's Farm), so Randy and Simon have to make a bunch of people cry and say "thank you" by themselves.

One such person: Victoria Watson, whose hair is 6ft long, which I think is kind of gross. She has a pretty voice, but it's better suited to lullabyes than to blowing out my speakers, so the judges aren't impressed.

Other people who suck: Lakia Hill, who is cute, but sucks really really bad; Nichole of Team Nichole, who doesn't suck nearly as bad as they say; and Brandy Patterson, who is too stupid to know when they are making fun of her for sucking.

20 of the 11,000 made it to Hollywood. Tomorrow: Los Angeles. The next day: THE WORLD!

The New York episode of American Idol showcases Carol Bayer Sager as a guest judge/wig enthusiast. Not surprisingly, a lot of people showed up to audition. Also not surprisingly, guesses of the exact number ranged from 2,000 to "a million." Let's meet some of them.

First up, Ian Benardo of "So You Think You Can Dance" fame. Other things Ian thinks he can do: wear a chinchilla wrap, fly first class, sport a t-shirt bearing his full name, and sing. Things I think Ian can do: suck. Things I think Ian likes to suck: dick. The judges agree.

Then comes sob-story Sasha Burgess, age 19, who escaped her life in the doldrums of Ohio to run away to NYC and cry. She's cute, and a decent singer, and her "my daddy doesn't love me" story earns her a ticket to Hollywood and a hug from Seacrest.

Ashanti Johnson has already been to Hollywood twice (in past seasons, not just on vacation), but this time the judges think her rendition of "Loving You" is a little too "cabaret" and not enough "South Park." She gives what appears to be a 45-minute speech, cleverly underscored by soap opera music, about why they should give her a chance, and although I think she has a pleasant speaking voice and I wouldn't mind listening to a book on tape read by her, she reminds me of a less-fat Raven Symone, and God knows the world doesn't need any more of that.

What could the world use a little more of? Hot best friends from New Jersey, which is what Amanda and Antonella are. Amanda is pretty cute and blonde and okay at singing, and she's going to Hollywood. Antonella, on the other hand, is not only a better singer, but at least 45,000 times hotter. Like, tall, thin, gorgeous face... If this singing thing doesn't work out, she can always go on "America's Next Top Model," because she is seriously the hottest girl I have ever seen on this show. Or in my life.

Kia Thorton sings "Ain't No Way" and does a good job, earning her a "yes" vote of "100%" from everyone except Randy, who gives her "1,000 % yes." Something makes me think Randy really doesn't know anything about math.

Onto day two, when Simon is too hungover to bother coming into work. It's too bad, because he misses auditioning the best person ever in the entire world, Henry Bejarano. Henry is 16, a fact which I will lament for the rest of the season, because he is also the single most attractive male mine eyes have had the pleasure of ogling. And he's a pretty good singer. I predict that Seacrest and women around the world will be masturbating to the youtube video of his audition for years to come. (Pun.)

After some bad auditions by heartbroken girls, Simon returns just in time to enjoy the vocal stylings of Canadienne Jory Steinberg and Queens native Porcelana Patino, who are very good at singing and wearing 86 leather bracelets, respectively.

There is a Montage of Name-Butchering which is entertaining only because Simon calls an Asian girl "Ping-Pong," which is basically the best 10 seconds in American Idol history.

Christopher Henry is a "Simon/George Michael look-alike" who, strangely enough, looks not at all like either, but who sounds exactly like a female Broadway performer when he sings. Predictably, Simon advises him to dress in drag, and even more predictably, Paula tries to start a fist-fight with Simon.

Rachael Zevita (I'm guessing on her last name. That's what it sounded like.) is playing hookie from Opera School to try out. Judging by the fact that she's in Opera School, she's probably qualified to be on American Idol. Judging from the dream catcher she is wearing as a hair accessory/tie-dye shirt/recent Bat Mitzvah, she's probably better suited to performing in the talent show at the end of "Wet Hot American Summer."

In a startling moment of Jake Klocksien Has the Power to Predict the Future, Christopher Richardson is put on the fast track to Hollywood mainly because he reminds the judges of Justin Timberlake.

Then Mr. Nicholas I-Have-A-Sexy-Voice-But-I-Had-To-Leave-Hollywood-Last-Season-Because-I-Forgot-The-Words-To-"Buttercup" Pedro also gets put through, but Ms. Isadora I'm-A-Clairvoyant-By-Profession-And-An-Amateur-Phone-Sex-Operator-On-The-Side sounds like she's having an orgasm while "singing" "Lady Marmalade." Not even like a hot "I'm masturbating while watching Henry's audition video" orgasm, but a scary "cut a hole in my lower back and fuck me in it using a soldering iron covered in broken glass" orgasm. Also she looks like the love child of Ozzie Osbourne and Janis Joplin, so that's unfortunate.

35 out of either 2,000 or 1,000,000 people made it to Hollywood, at least two of whom were blindingly hot. Things are looking up for America.

We open this, the third episode of the sixth season of American Idol, with various shots of a completely deserted Memphis, TN. Why is it deserted, you ask? Ryan Seacrest would have us believe it's because all 650,000 of the city's inhabitants are at the staduim for American Idol auditions. I think the police probably blocked off the streets so the crew could get shots of an empty city. Choose sides, America.

After some contrived footage of Randy ordering 30 donuts by phone (who doesn't order donuts by the dozen? fat people are weird), we get to the first contestant of the day, one Frank Beyers, a gay (I'm assuming) black (I'm certain) cheerleading coach from Alabama or Arkansas or some state like that. He brought his squad with him. And the marching band. Then he sang "Heard It Through the Grapevine," but unfortunately the judges heard it through the... suck.. vine... that he sucked. So they didn't let him to go Hollywood. He actually wasn't that awful, but he was pretty disappointing for a gay black dude, so... It seems like they're setting the bar a little higher this season, but I didn't watch last year, so I have no idea.

Third contestant to be shown was a Chris Rivera, who sang "Superstition" by Stevie Wonder, as in, "Wonder where he got those frayed jeans/skirt/fabric monstrosity" or "He must also be blind to dress so stupidly."

So, everyone sucked so far. It probably sucked a lot more for Paula, because she didn't seem that drunk today. Then, finally, someone good showed up. He had a stupid looking beard that resembled a short brown broom sticking out of his chin, and he's kind of fat and whatever, but whooeee! that boy can sing! He sang "Stormy Monday" and Randy gave him an approval rating of "100 million % yes." Best of all... his name is SUNDANCE HEAD, which is... weird, but also hilarious. I bet his middle name is "Gives Dudes." God, I hope he does well, because that is a goldmine of gay jokes right there. His parents must hate him.

After some coked-out guy performed some "very emotional" beat poetry about his girlfriend, a blonde chick named Danya McCullah, age 18, sang "Baby I Love You." She's only medium-cute (her face is kind of weird. I can't place what's wrong with it, but give me time. I'll figure it out. Probably Down's Syndrome.) and her voice was only medium-okay, and she was only medium-through to Hollywood except that Simon wants to solicit blowjobs from her in later rounds, so she gets to go. Simon is a crafty one.

Topher McCain, age 28, is not only a big fan of Paula's, but his wife recently left him, so, you know, the judges made sure to bring that up first thing. Simon: "I understand your wife left you. Why?" Topher, "Because she's a cunt." They bleeped it out, but it was definitely a c-word, and that's why, even though this guy is fat and has glasses and a stupid beard, he might be my favorite Idol contestant of this half-hour. He had an okay voice, but that fact was negated by his glasses/fat/facial hair/calling his wife a cunt on national TV, so no Hollywood for him.

Then some chick danced and her boobies almost fell out of her dress, then Fidel Castro/Sadaam Hussein's white younger nephew, who I swear to God I saw dressed as Jesus at last year's Memphis in May, totally blew them out of the water with "God's Gonna Cut You Down." The judges were basically like, "Wow, you look so homeless... and your hat is so... Cuban, and yet you are a good singer. I don't understand it." And he was like, "Looks aren't everything, biatches!" and they were like, "See you in Hollywood (WITH A HAIRCUT AND A SHAVE.)" I hope he doesn't sell out. I DO hope he makes it to the Top 12 so I can impress everyone with the picture I took with him in front of the funnel cake cart. Also, in the little confessional booth after the audition he was like, "Oh! Superstah!" which was cute.

Melinda Dolittle is 28 and a professional background singer, and she's really meek and has a hat that I kind of don't like very much, but she sang "For Once in My Life" and it was pretty great. I had goosebumps the whole time, and it wasn't even cold in my apartment. She changed the weather. In the future. With her voice. Awesome.

Okay, so by this point, I think everyone can safely assume that some of the more ridiculous contestants that get on the air are fakes, planted by the producers for the purpose of adding a freakshow element to this already shameless nationwide "talent" search(/blowjob search, if you're Simon). Robert Lee Holmes, in my opinion, is one such plant. First of all, he's a black guy in the South. Who is also named after Robert E. Lee. Secondly, he sounds exactly like Leon Phelps, the Ladies' Man. Thirdly, he sang Elvis's "Burning Love." More like "Burning [when I pee from diseases contracted while making] Love [to thousands of sexy ladies every week]." ...Because he sounds like Leon Phelps. And he was wearing a pea-green silk shirt. So... he's fake.

That was basically it. There was a short Montage of Sucktitude, and Randy's new catchphrase is apparently "Good lookin' out" when he has to tell people they aren't good enough to join the ranks of Taylor Hicks and Clay Aiken, and then some douchebag missed the birth of his second child so he could wait in line to try out for Idol. They let him go to Hollywood even though he's not that attractive, ostensibly because he has a good voice, but Simon and I both know better. He kind of sings through his nose and pushes too much, but whatever. If they didn't let him through, his wife probably would have strangled him with their baby's umbilical cord.

Only 22 of the apparently 650,000 auditioners made it to Hollywood. And we get another episode in another city tomorrow. Bring it on, Seacrest.

The following are in no particular order.

#1: Ronald McDonald- He owes me a free burger, but won't admit it.  When I find him, I am going to beat it out of him.
#2: Street corner evangelicals- If I am going to hell, I might as well enjoy myself on the way--by punching you in the genitals.
#3: Bears (black)- Scary
#4: Bears (polar)-Scary
#5: Bears (brown)-Scary
#6: Bears (Panda)-Scary
#7: Bears (Koala)-Scary
#8: Bears (care)- Bad personal Experience
#9: People who quote borat- Its not that I don't get the whole joke behind Borat, its just that I hate when you talk like that.
#10: It looks badass.
#11: The ghost of richard nixon- Legend has it that he roams the streets at night looking for unsuspecting pedestrians to engage in fisticuffs.  I don't want to be caught unprepared.
#12: Republicans- Politics make me angry
#13: Democrats- Really, really angry
#14: Car salesmen- smug fucks
#15: Other people that wear brass knuckles- gotta keep that playing field level
#16: Pretentious emo kids- improves my odds of breaking their glasses by over 50%.
#17: Ninjas- Though I would certainly lose this fight, I want my last moments to be interesting at least.
#18: The Pittsburgh Parking Authority- They descend from rooftops on cables and give me tickets even though I only ran in for, like, five minutes and I totally had my flashers on.  seriously, what the fuck?
#19: Cheaper than silver knuckles- Though these are favored by many of europe's finest hooligans, I simply cannot afford this luxury.
#20: The guy who drives the bus I ride to work- I think he would look better with no teeth at all, as opposed to the two rotten, yellowed stumps he has now.
#21: The better to backhand my girlfriend with.
#22: It's part of my heritage- my great grandfather was a maker of fine brass knuckles.
#23: Clowns- Scary
#24: PETA-  Actually these aren't brass, they are made from whale bones.  You want a bite of my burger?
#25: Simon Cowell- baby gap t-shirt wearing douche.
#26: The mob- I may or may not owe someone 20 large (some body please hide me).
#27: Children- there is a discipline problem in this country and I aim to fix it.
#28: It makes my threats more meaningful.
#29: Clay Aiken- Like he wouldn't be on your list.
#30: Robots- If the Terminator movies only got it wrong by a decade, SkyNet might already be online.  I'm not one to take chances.
#31: Nuns- I don't want to punch any nuns, I just need to protect my delicate fingers from their merciless assault.
#32: Bears (all other, including Chicago)- Assorted Varieties of Scary
#33: Global Warming-  I am going to find a way to punch the atmosphere so hard it restores the ozone layer.  This is my idea so don't steal it, you assholes.
#34: The Truth.com Kids- It turns out being a smartass is as or more dangerous than smoking.
#35: Hippies- You don't believe in violence? oh man, this is going to be easy.
#36: That creepy guy who rides the elevator all day but never gets out and smells kinda like rancid meat and stands too close to you and makes you feel really uncomfortable- Scary
#37: Takes kinky sex to the next level.
#38: Every once and a while you get that "clang" noise when you punch someone, like in the movies.  Incredibly rare, but worth it.
#39: The Family Circus- Whenever I read this comic, I want to run towards the nearest living thing and kill it.
#40: I put them on yesterday, and now they are stuck.

January 13th, 1947

An African-American family of three sits at small dinner table in their modest suburban home.

Marty-Dad, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.

Dad-What’s that scout?

Marty-Well, it's about me starting full-time at the shop next month.

Dad- What about it?

Marty-I don't think I can do it.

(The room goes silent. Mr. King stares indignantly at his near-empty plate)

Dad- Well why the hell not?

Marty-I think I want to be a civil rights leader.

(The room falls silent again.)

Dad-A what? You want to be a what?

Marty-A civil rights leader Dad, I want to help people. I want to bring people together

Dad-Just like that, huh? I train you in the family business for seven years so you can be a civil rights leader, whatever the hell that is. 

Mom- Martin please. Remember what Dr. Perkins said about your blood pressure.

Dad-What’s wrong with fixing scooters? You think you’re too good to do what I do?

Marty-No Dad, that’s not what I mean. I just…I just feel like there’s something more out there for me. I feel like I’m being called to do something bigger with my life.

Dad-Something bigger? (He turns to his wife) He wants to do something bigger. Bigger than fixing scooters?

Marty-It’s not that Dad, I just…

Dad-My own boy turns his back on me. Turns his back on his own family.

Mom-(To Marty) Maybe you should just let it go for tonight honey. Your Dad's tired, he’s had a long day at the scooter garage.

Marty-I’m sorry Dad. I didn’t mean to upset you or Mom. If the scooter business is what you want for me, of course it’s what I’ll do. I wish I’d never even brought this up.

Mom-It’s alright dear. Why don’t you go wash up for bed.

Marty-Alright. Goodnight Mom, goodnight Dad.

(Marty leaves the table)

Dad-That kid.

Mom-He’ll be fine dear. A good night's sleep and he’ll forget all about this civil rights nonsense.

Dad-Well, I hope you're right.

(Mrs. King sits suggestively on Mr. King's lap)

Mom-You know, he reminds me a lot of someone I know when they were that age.

Dad-Oh does he Mrs. King?

Mom-Somone who I think is still very sexy, and who might just get lucky tonight if he helps with the dishes.

Dad- Is that so Mrs. King?

(The two share a kiss, but Mr. King pulls it short.)

Dad-I'm sorry, I'm just worried about that boy of ours.

Mom-Don't worry sweetie, I have a hunch he’ll make us all very proud.

And he would…

I think i know this person..ahah

me

my brother

Do you think the writers for South Park believe in God?

I don't think I know them well enough to form an opinion about their religious views.

I think they might. They make fun of Christianity a lot less than they make fun of other stuff.

They make fun of hell all the time.

Yeah, but God would probably approve of that.

So you think they do?

Probably.

Does that make you respect them less?

Not really.

I know how much you hate God.

I don't hate God, I just don't think he's real. What I hate is church.

Ah. My mistake. So why do you care if they believe in God?

Well, I think they might have stumbled upon a really profound idea which could literally change the face of the electronic entertainment industry.

Which is...?

That the PSP was created by God.

Jesus. You know that episode came out like two years ago, right?

Yes. Shut up.

You also know they weren't being serious?

I realize that it's a comedy show, retard.

If I were you, I'm not sure I'd be slinging around accusations of questionable intelligence, Mr. I-think-God-make-a-video-game-system.

If I were you, I'd shut up and let me explain myself.

Then by all means, proceed.

Okay, so in South Park they implied that God created the PSP to find, like, the person best suited to act as a general in the war between good and evil.

I believe he was specifically looking for someone who could act as Keanu Reeves.

Whatever. So I don't agree that that was His motivation, but -

I thought you don't even believe that God exists.

Well, I don't. Also if you interrupt me again, I'm going to punch you.

If you punch me, I'm going to tell on you.

God. You are a moron.

Whatever, lady-hitter.

I'm going to leave, and you're never going ot hear about how God created the PSP and the subsequent argument that will change the gaming industry.

Wait, let me just set up my dictaphone here... Okay, regale me, Sport.

Seriously, I hate you.

Whatever.

Okay, so you know Plato?

Not personally.

You know how to not be a smartass?

...Yes.

I assume you've read about his world of Being and world of Becoming?

Naturally.

Okay, so Plato was obviously totally right.

Just because Plato lived way before us, doesn't mean he's infallible.

It pretty much does.

For the sake of argument, okay.

Okay, so everything exists in the world of Being, and then what we see, in the world of Becoming, is just a shadow of that, but we recognize it, because we all used to live in the world of being before we were born.

Really we lived in Mommy's tummy.

I'm really about to punch you, I am not kidding. Our consciousness was in the world of Being.

Then how come I saw Robocop before I was born? I saw it when I was in Mommy's tummy.

Robocop came out three years after you were born.

That makes it all the more amazing.

You probably watched it while you were both in the world of Being.

... Woah. Everything's falling into place.

So the world of Being explains where everything in the world of Becoming came from.

Right.

But where did the stuff in the world of Being come from?

Um... Plato's imagination?

I'm going to cut the brake lines in your car.

Joke's on you, sucka. We share that car.

Joke's on you, sucka. I'm suicidal.

Prove it.

... Let's assume that the world if Being is Heaven.

Okay.

And if that's the case, then everything in the world of Being was created by God.

So you do believe in Him!

No. Just listen. Plato says that everything is in the world of Being before we recognize it here.

Yes.

So everything that exists on Earth, from trees to cars to chlamydia, used to be in the world of Being, aka Heaven, and was therefore created by God.

Okay.

The PSP is on Earth.

Decidedly.

Therefore it was created by God.

Okay, but that's dumb. You're just saying that everything is created by God. It's a cop-out to try to make an episode of South Park seem realistic. You don't even believe in God!

But a lot of other people do. A lot of people who believe in God are also crazy, and want to impose stricter censors on video games.

Indeed they do.

But that's bullshit. It's an infringement on the freedom of speech, or assembly, or something.

Most likely NOT of assembly. Or, really, of speech.

Either way, if the PSP (and, by association, every video game) was created by the God they love so much, they would have to endorse it. If God wouldn't want them or their children to see something inappropriate, he wouldn't have created it in the world of Being.

That seems like a pretty stupid argument which might go over okay on the religious fanatics. The only things you're discounting are: every humanistic or scientific advancement since the Bible was written and Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure.

What?

So when Socrates and Joan of Arc and Genghis Kahn and whoever come to the future, they don't recognize a bunch of shit. If all the stuff was really in the world of Being, wouldn't they have memories of it from their time before birth?

First of all, stuff has existed in the world of Being since the beginning of time. It still has to be discovered or invented by humans before it is recognized as existing on earth.

Whatever. This theory is stupid. You will never convince super-Christian, protective moms to allow their kids to play San Andreas. They just don't appreciate the art of weight lifting.

Whatever. I'm going to make a really violent video game and blame it on God and make a shitton of money, and I'm not going to share any of it with you.

That's retarded. Seriously. Who did you get your pot from this week? Because it's a lesser quality stash.

... I don't smoke.

Listen, you're my brother. Even if you're ugly and stupid, I still love you enough to mooch some of your pot. How old are you now?

My birthday was last week, you whore.

So, what? Like 15?

I'm 17.

Okay. Well listen. I'm going to go to the store and get some Swishers or some shit to use for a blunt, and then we're going to smoke all the shitty weed you have left so you stop having these stupid ideas and realize that just because something is realted to Plato, doesn't mean it's a valid argument. And then I'm going to give you the number of a reliable source.

Whatever.

We're also going to play a whole lot of Guitar Hero, and I'm going to beat all your high scores.

Haha. "High" scores.