Oh crud, VCR...well, let us just say it's a very very good thing that Joe's writing the recap this week. Meanwhile I will be cobbling something together as soon as I get access to the mp3s. Luckily, thus far I've only missed the really sucky eps...wait a minute...VCRs don't have 'taste' settings, do they?

Brief pause for station identification and while Shoe rummages the web for audio or video or something - Joe

OK! Thank you, person I don't know who updated a site that I'm not supposed to name with video! Even if the judges' comments were missing.

Benedict. Hooboy. "It's...pink," Shoemom says blankly. "And he's orange," I add. Then we just sit for a moment in absolute silence, awe-fully contemplating the forces that might drive a man to dress that badly. Excess self-tanner hardly seems enough.

Then again, where the hell does an eighteen-year-old boy get access to a brown velvet jacket? In the middle of summer? Kalan, you're one of those teenagers whose mom just comes home every few months with a pile of clothes you then throw under the bed, aren't you?

Idols at the Ex. Yeah, they sang, it was sunny, big crowd. Moving right along... For a little more detail than that, see here - Joe

In video order:

Kalan. Is wasting a typically fantastic vocal - plus an experiment in audience connexion that must be costing him dearly - on a seriously, seriously unworthy tune. As CI song choices go, this is right down there with Josh and the mouse song. He just can't do anything with it at all...but he clearly thinks he can, which is almost worse. Kid needs to be slapped upside the head by somebody - not Byrd - for playing it so bloody safe so late in the competition. If that's what Zack and/or Jake did, good.

On the other hand...what else could he do? We've heard the ballad, we've heard the mid-tempo rock, we've heard Born to Be Wild. He's in danger of becoming deadly boring simply because he's already proven there's not much on the Idol songlist he can't tackle...except, of course, big-band. Next week should be [Arte Johnson voice]veeeeeery interesting - or shtupid.[/Arte Johnson voice]

Shane...wowza. Not in a good way. Screws up the tempo, screws up the lyrics, screws up the phrasing on the lyrics he remembered, screws up the absolute perfect opportunity for the glory note of a lifetime in the chorus. And at the end of it all he's still giving the Smile of Satisfaction. (OK, he needs the practice, we're going to be seeing a whole lot of that smile tomorrow night. It probably goes better interspersed with brave words about what a great experience this has all been, anyhow.) Honestly, it has all the sick fascination of a Superstar USA performance, where you think it just can't get any worse, and then... "He's trying to make it his own and...it's not working," Shoemom manages after awhile. Yeah, and when he watches the video tomorrow, he's gonna want to put it up for adoption.

Jacob. Is singing a horribly overplayed Idol standard absolutely straight. In simple black. And is...boring. Look, I don't know how I got into this alternate dimension, but I want back to the one where this kid was wearing blue eyeshadow and I want back now. All that soul-searching about how he wanted to get back to his wild'n'crazy self led to Diane Warren? Maybe they really do sell their souls to 19Evil.

Jason...And y'know what the very worst thing is about Shane's and Jacob's trainwrecks? It means Bar Boi and his sponsored-by-the-National-Dairy-Board act get to stay around another week. "He's just a party guy!" Shoemom keeps protesting. "Yeah, and how does that get him into the Top Five?" I yelp back.

We pause to watch him run into the audience, who don't care, because they're busy hoping Kalan might materialize. Except...yes...one gramma who's chuckling away like he's her favourite grandson performing in the living room. "Well, sure," Shoemom says when I tell her about the older-woman-orgasm theory (not using those exact words), "because he's fun...Hey! You don't need to throw socks! Ewww!" "A pox on your generation," I mutter. Then I retrieve the socks and pitch them at the monitor a few more times.

Theresa. Before we go any farther, I just need to pause and express my love for the flower-bedecked mic. I would loathe this concept anywhere and anyplace else, but Theresa, as demonstrated last week, can get away with an infinite amount of stuff like this. Even half-morphed into a pretty pink princess, she's still got that gift. She might even be able to make something workable out of Vincent. She's basically pulling a Kaleb-on-Rock-Night: brilliant performance from the least likely candidate. Like Kalan, she's chosen a simple, insubstantial song, but unlike him, has a distincr, original idea of where she wants it to be that boosts the entertainment value aways over the actual vocal. Gets a little mannered as the song wears on...but overall, goofy and loveable and great.

Results Show

Ladies and gentlemen, MC Hammer Junior...I mean, Gary Beals.

Holy shlamoley, was that...that was...was...worse than I ever imagined, and where ol'Lightbulb Head here is concerned my imagination's pretty damn active, let me tell you.

But even I hadn't bargained for the backup. It's like a bunch of really mediocre Solid Gold dancers died and Gary's speeding them heavenward by threatening not to stop mumbling until they get there. We were in hysterics, until it got too sad to laugh. I knew it had gotten to that point when Shoemom started shrieking at the screen. "End! End! End!!"

And for this he gets a standing ovation. I tell you, if the Lord really is blessing Gary Beals, I'm giving serious thought to atheism. The only thing that is keeping faith alive right now is that promo picture of himself somebody is holding up behind Benedict on one of his ventures into the crowd, lavishly decorated with devil horns and goatee. Gotta love those Billy diehards...

Benedict pops out to do some more slobbering all over Gary's nice white hoodie (hee!). Shoemom (still not quite recovered): "[Ben] is so phony. If you hooked him up to - what's it called - one of those things that tell if you're lying? - he'd flunk." Yeah...that, and his suit jacket is about a size too small.

'Course, somewhere in here this year's 'hopefuls' did some pretty heavy-ducty suckage of their own. Interesting totem-pole shift alert: Theresa and Jacob get fairly nice solos, Kalan gets a couple lines after each. Jason gets to stand there during the second medley like he's pretty sure he's supposed to be doing something solo-ish, and he's trying valiantly to figure out what it is (the smile actually wobbles once or twice), but doesn't quite get there.

Shane gets a lot of up-front time too, but this is because everyone including the guy who fetches coffee for the choreographers knew he was leaving. At least with the Beach Boys they finally found a decent use for his falsetto.

Also gotta love all the Kalan/Jacob action. Even though it isn't exactly doing Kalan any favours, showing-off-the-dance-moves-wise. Dorky isn't the word.

Best of the Worst special. Hooray. And this year they got the title right. Rumour on the scary boards is they're saving Insane Medal Guy (who actually posts there, under the name Josh, although 'seriously delusional headcase' would work so much better) for a special appearance.

Results! Jason's bottom two. I shriek with glee. Big night for shrieking, in the Shoe household. Anyway, let me repeat: Jason's in the bottom two. Shoemom looks at me reproachfully. Apparently, Jason's appeal is just genetically encoded to emerge in women after a certain age. I'm doomed to spend my golden years listening to my old Wham! tapes, I just know it.

Somehow - not intentionally I don't think - Benedict contrives to give Jacob the idea he's second up. Did I mention ADD Boi seems to have found his second wind tonight?

Shane. Where else? See, I told you the Smile of Satisfaction would be out in full force. Then again...I think back to Gary whooping 'Thank you Jesus!' after a reprieve, and suddenly feel a warm glow of admiration and appreciation for our Shane. He was so close to that programming breakthrough. Another week...damn, he might just have hit his stride with the Big Band stuff. We should give him John Stevens' number, they can maybe go have a Grape Nehi together sometime.

Shoemom, solemnly: "I think Jason's gone." I mentally cancel the plans for the nursing home for the 4258954th time.

But of course, he's not. Sigh...Bar Boi does Big Band. The thought of drawing this assignment for next week's recap is partially reconciling me to having him around one more week. Thbbbbpppt!!!! - Joe

Shane does a much, much better job of his first singout, and the connexion with his beautiful zombie wife is touching, but I'm giggling too hard at the realisation it was the Lauryn Hill arrangement to fully appreciate it all. So that's what sounded so bizarre last night! Poor dear daredevil Shane-bot. I was getting so close to missing having him around.