Idol worship transforms American public
by Austin Callaway, reporter

    Okay, I admit it. I and millions of other Americans share a guilty pleasure. But, I have come to terms with my addiction and can finally say, “I, too, am an idol worshiper.”

   Of course, I speak of American Idol. Yes, it is true.

   I realized it late one night while getting a snack. I looked at the stack of recorded episodes and thought, “I hope Kelly doesn’t get kicked off tomorrow.” This television program that places the horrific pop music demon I scorn with a white-hot fervor directly in millions of living rooms each week had crept into my subconscious.

   I had let my musical guard down and for the last four weeks could not go one day without the constant torment of wondering who would be the next American Idol, who was fated with the instantaneous super stardom that would unquestionably come along with winning this three-month sing-off, and, at last, who would be discarded to the loser’s circle like a portion of rotting cheese?

   From the start, I predicted Tamyra Grey and Kelly Clarkson would leave the opposition in the dust. However, which would be the outright champion was much too audacious a prediction to make. So I was dismayed when Grey was cast off the show in August. Of the remaining three, only one deserved to be there—Kelly Clarkson.

   While I give third-place competitor Nikki McKibbin credit for being one of the only contestants to show any originality, I wanted her off weeks ago. On Aug. 28 McKibbin’s stint on American Idol ended. No one was amazed since she had been voted into the loser circle for four weeks only to hold on by the skin of her votes once again.

   Then there were two: Clarkson, the modest girl next-door, and Justin Guarini, the overconfident, afro-clad, Michael Jackson-impersonator. When he first performed, I thought, “How could this guy last as long as he has.” I was sure the American public would see through him. But instead of giving J-fro, as his fans have labeled him, the boot, Justin’s army of 12-year-old girls came mere votes away from hoisting his name among pop greats as George Michael, Ahaa, and Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch.

   Had Guarini won, printing presses across America would be ablaze with his name, music stores around the world would be besieged with pictures of his face and airwaves would almost certainly be polluted by the tainted stench of his voice.

   But, once again catastrophe was narrowly averted, and the fine people of America selected Clarkson as their American Idol. But, on a more maudlin note, on what would be his last show, Justin quoted his father by saying, “Even if they are running you out of town, keep smiling; then, it will look like you are leading the parade.” To this I say, “Grab your baton J-fro; we are sending you packing.”

   Yes, straight out of the virtual hotbed of talent that is Burleson, Texas, comes this young woman who indeed possesses those qualities required of an American Idol, not to mention this girl sings like an angel. Clarkson honestly seems to be the kind, down-to-earth girl that she is portrayed as on television.

   As the razor sharp meat hooks of fame and fortune sink in, the real test will be if she can preserve her image and still appease the ever-fickle pop music fan base.

   In following American Idol for the past three months, I must admit it was a reasonably pleasurable experience. For the most part, I saw a few of the most talented people I have seen in a long while. I can also stand with pride and say I, too, am an idol worshiper.