Scotts Pet Peeve's [sic]

Earlier this week, the world was exhibiting a phenomenal understanding of its own direction, a profound clarity vis-à-vis the correct balance of all things.

Obviously I'm referring to the ultimate Bottom Two.



Whoops - not that kind of Bottom Two!

I mean the Best & Most Accurate Bottom Two in the History of All Idol Shows Ever Anywhere (excluding Belarus):


Idol 2005: Decidedly Anti-Mediterranean

However, the world is, in fact, not right. NOT AT ALL.


Exhibit A (S2BC will NEVER tire of reminding Earth residents of this atrocity)

Seriously, dudes. I am currently suffering buttloads of anguish about an important matter relating to the world's ability to preserve order/keep anarchy "in abeyance".

APOSTROPHES.

Yes. And specifically, "What The Fuck Is With Channel Ten And Apostrophes And Why Is The Person Responsible For Affixing Words On The Screen At That Station Not Camped Out The Front Of Fucking Centrelink Instead Of Receiving Wages."

There must be decades of unrest/illiteracy in that place!

For example, in 2004, Australian Idol had consecutive episodes called "Idols Choice" [sic] and "Beatle's Special" [sic].

In 2005, Australian Idol is having an episode called "Contestant's Choice" [sic].

I watched Inside Idol last night and despite special concentration I couldn't work out which one lucky contestant had been gifted with choice to the exclusion of all others.

Perhaps they were referring to Roxane Lebrasse, who is apparently choosing to be voted off the show by attempting to sing Xtina Aguilera.


"It's About Time for My Arrival (at the STD Clinic)"

Whatever the case, there's nothing [sick] about any of this, quite frankly.

My faith in humanity is utterly beyond salvation right now*.

(*Subject to the performance of Stephenie on Survivor: Guatemala.)


One of Earth's finest residents (and two of its finest eyebrows)

AI3: The Greatest Poo

It seems Kelly Clarkson's musical car accident at the MTV Awards has really inspired the ten remaining Australian "Idols" to scrape the bottom of the proverbial performance barrel*.


"And I'd forget my head if I didn't have to screw it on! Plus why is it so windy in this studio, etc."

Nutritional information about last night's Australian Idol episode:

20% real fruit
70% reconstituted juice
20% foecal matter

If you're all gushing non-solids from the back end this morning, one of two particularly unpleasant toxins may be responsible. Specifically, laryngectomies are today being mandated for:

10. James Kannis
9. Laura Gissara

In a truly execrable performance, James "I Sucked on My Fist All Through Childhood (What Should I Do With It Now)" Kannis shuffled around the stage like a newborn lamb attempting its first steps (in an ice rink). And as good a song as "Layla" is, Derek and the Dominoes were not a rock supergroup! They released one album that originally flopped and are identifiable principally through this one song. James should really cut his hair and just shut the fuck up at all times with no exceptions.


Yes. Just until the laryngectomy, that's all we ask

I am undergoing somewhat of an internal struggle vis-à-vis The Giss. I have to concede that she is a phenomenally well presented package on an aesthetic level and on that basis find myself wishing she had the voice of Kate, Emily or Anne. Plus she's really had to battle a torrent of ill-feeling since first inflicting herself on us, and at least daringly "sang" a non-Queen number. But let's remember: Laura is a "music student" who should really have the basic performance skills to interpret song. So since there is no scope for pity, we should all just look forward to witnessing Mark Holden in weekly coniptions and send James on his way first.


"Don't worry about me, I don't have to pay HECS"

If instead you're all thinking, "Fuck Boost, there's already lots of juicy goodness swishing around my intestines this morning and besides I don't want to give one single dollar more to that greedy expanding empire (out of jealousy) and my this whole juice analogy is rather pointless isn't it", it's probably owing to one or both of the only two excellent performances last night. (Unless it isn't.)

2. Lee Harding
1. Emily Williams

Lee's rendition of "Roxanne" was his best performance to date: uniquely structured, confidently and accurately sung and featuring a masterful use of The Stage. This is exactly the type of awesome performance competitors with an alleged musical background need to be capable of in order to justify foisting on us assertions such as "I live and breathe music/have been singing since immersed in amniotic fluid". S2BC now officially loves Lee (platonically).

As for Emily, Sister-Girlfriend last night earned best-in-show honours two weeks running. For all the haters out there, I would like to draw your attention to the buttloads of light/dark/shade/other forms of solar manipulation with which Emily's performance was imbued. Very, very good.

I am, however, concerned by Emily's startling "Thank you, Mummy!" to Marcia at the end of her song. The scandal! Have there been nepotistic "goings-on" behind the scenes? Is Marciagate upon us? And WTF is with Australian Idol this year? There have been so many motherhood references in this season that I'm expecting to lactate soon.


Not that there's anything wrong with that

I can't really be bothered saying anything about the in-betweeners. Consistent with their unbridled averageness, I have elected to deny them the attention they crave. Take that, dudes! Plus I have remembered just now that, unfathomably, I am required to produce "output" in return for "a wage" :-( (Obviously S2BC still adores Kate but she should be doling out the touchdowns with that voice and isn't.)

Sadly, apart from Lee and Emily, the only other truly entertaining moment was the dousing of Mark Holden and Marcia Hines resultantly engaging in an intriguing type of seated raindance. It's both our good fortune and a miserable indictment that the judges are furnishing us with entertainment equal to or exceeding that of the contestants.


The Marcia God, creator of All Things (including her pussy)
(Photo courtesy: AC/DC)

(*E-mail me here if you would like your very own full text version of that well-known proverb about performance barrels or pictures of actual performance barrels such as the one featured here.)

MTV: Memorably Trashy Visuals

There is a special joy inherent in any viewing of the fabulously purposeless MTV Music Awards.

It is derived, I think, from an acknowledgement to oneself that said awards:

1. are devoid of logic, suspense, class and merit (i.e. aren't the Oscars)
2. invariably feature the butchering of good songs - by those songs' original performers, somehow (I'm talking to you, Father of Apple)
3. guarantee at least one impossibly memorable moment for feverish rewind/repeat action on the VCR

Kudos pursuant to point 3 above was last year reserved for the unforgettable performance of a loaded Anna Nicole Smith, whose coquettish rhetorical enquiry "Like mah bo-dy?" at the awards podium, while dragging her slutty hands (no doubt positively drenched in nether fluids) across her chest then clapping them maniacally over her head, got re-played so many times in my house I can't even look at a remote control without my fingers seizing.


"Freakin' genius," says Anna of her surgeon

With that train wreck as a benchmark, the 2005 show couldn't possibly live up to my lofty expectations. But it went down trying.

Aside from that atrocious vocal display from Coldplay, we were treated to an intriguing Spanish language performance from a completely wired Shakira wherein she demonstrated the extent to which her small and humble mammaries are offset by an impossibly dexterous pelvic frame. Now I know what Ripley from Ridley Scott's "Alien" would have looked like had that film been set in Caracas instead of Space.

Gwen Stefani amusingly lost out twice to Kelly Clarkson, then found herself nominated for video of the year - unlike Clarkson!

The prominent use of water for the performances held off-site in the southern states was a stroke of tacky post-Katrina brilliance, as was the choreography of that freshly emancipated diva's performance featuring the sudden plunge of two black dancers into a pool.


My-Thigh-A Carey: subtle as a fist

However, this year's stand-out what-the-fuck-was-that-about moment belongs to Kelly Clarkson.

For someone who is indisputably the best performed and most vocally masterful Idol contestant ever in any country, and who was gifted with the best pop song of the last 4 years at least in "Since U Been Gone", she managed to deliver the most horrendous performance I've ever seen on an awards show since that incident between Cheyenne Coates and a glass of water.

Kelly strayed right off the sidewalk into the path of a train with that shit, somehow channeling the stupendously tuneless screech of Milly Edwards' and Daniel Spillane's constipated lovechild as well as nodules-era Cosima De Vito.

Bitch, please. So you had to run around onstage moshing, which you do in your clip and which is understandably energy-sapping. But still, I hope you're not planning on unleashing that shit on Geelong. Some people have standards, you know?

Perfect Bottom

Is this perhaps the best Bottom Two ever?



Unfortunately, the shithead on the right survived to massacre another song while the previously insufferable precocious upstart on the left farewelled the competition in a most unexpectedly humble and honest fashion.

However, in the opinion of this reviewer, the night belonged to Roxane.

In response to an earnest enquiry by Andrew G as to her performance on Sunday, Roxy harked back to her halcyon red light days with the following double-header.

"The most important thing is to just pleasure yourself up there."

WTF? And then, impossibly:

"And I felt really good when I came off-stage."

I'm not making this shit up.

Is there an Inside Idol Uncut?


All By Herself: Roxy's pelvic floor gets the onstage treatment

The Emily, Zanne, Kate and Dan Show

Last night's episode of Australian Idol exposed the true composition of the Top 11:

4 embarrassingly superior performers gunning for the top prize
6 pretenders of varying local suburban quality
1 Jaanz School of Singing Under 11s Talent Competition-style wench with well connected parents, currently enrolled in an alleged "music degree" yet consistently failing to apply anything learned during said excuse for a course degree


Laura prepares for a moving performance of "Ave Maria"

The only potential Idol-worthy performances in descending order were:

4. Dan England

Distinctive and powerful, if a little nervy at times. Who can blame the guy though - according to the fabulously inept Australian Idol onscreen text supervisor, "Dan's family and friends" include... um, Dan. So dude needs our votes! (Just what is WITH that text fucker? If ever there was a case for performance-based dismissal, this is it, Channel Ten Human Resources Department - as if the consecutive 2004 "Idols Choice" (sic) and "Beatle's Special" (sic) debacles weren't sufficient grounds.)

3. Kate De Rouge

Nina, friend of S2BC and due to pop out a future Idol contestant shortly, has pointed out Kate's curious tendency to pronounce the letter M on a discretionary basis only (e.g. "Sah'one who needs me", "Rescue me 'cos Ahhh lonely"). Personally, I'm prepared to overlook this as a performance "quirk" because on the basis of her kick-arse voice alone Kate is fast establishing herself as S2Bc's absolute favourite non-stick bandit and likely Top 3 finisher. But girlfriend needs to calm the fuck down with De Eye Make-Up.

2. Zanne Robertson

Zanne is so damn consistent she runs the eventual risk of being measured against a higher performance standard. Totally brilliant. And potentially the most enjoyable performance of the night, if only for the added tomfoolery of the camerman who decided to fuck with Zanne by ensuring the camera focussed on her was always the exact camera she wasn't looking at.

Careful, though, Zanne. Your bollocks, unprompted Fantasia-tribute "I just really felt my song" teetered on being the Idol equivalent of Arantxa Sanchez-Vicario raising her finger to signal an out ball before it bounces. You know, to pre-empt a favourable call. Just let US judge your performance and, um, save us from engaging in laboured sporting analogies, OK?

Actually, the ball looks in from here

1. Emily Williams

That is that about which I am talking (or am about to)! Sister-girlfriend totally delivered on Thursday's promise with a blistering rendition of Aretha Franklin's biggest hit (wisely omitting the "sock it to me" reprise at the request of the anti-violence censors). Fast becoming Australian Idol's best ever Mum.


"Take that back boyfriend. I mean, check these puppies out"

Speaking of Marcia, last night she demonstrated that her musical expertise extends beyond a mere close association with every single Australian performing artist ever and includes, amazingly, insight into the psyche of a 17 year old Aretha Franklin, as well as the implied authority to identify the greatest songs ever written. But then, what else do you expect from God? And what better choice for guest judge on New Zealand Idol! Hold on what show is this then

As for the other peripheral/rubbish contestants:

11. Daniel Spillane. Like watching gall stones pass naturally.
10. Laura Gissara. Love the 80s dress Loz!
9. Natalie Zahra. A surefire winner if this were Calisthenics Idol. Atrocious.
8. Roxane Lebrasse. You are so dropped, Roxane.
7. Milly Edwards. You too Milly. Dreadful. I'm more tuneful while backing one out.
6. Lee Harding. Whatevs.
5. James Kannis. Yet to prove he is more interesting to watch than his Mum.

So let's hope 'Sara or Zahra get booted.

Peace out.

R-U-S-P-I-C-T

I would like nothing more this afternoon than to resign champion the cause of this woman:



There has perhaps never been a more uniquely enjoyable Idol moment than Emily Williams' dulcet Kiwi tones cascading softly over a robustly boganified Spoken Word interpretation of Aretha Franklin's "Respect", as heard last night on "Inside Idol".

I now heart Emily Williams and hope she belts the shit out of her song on Sunday.

S2BC also officially endorses Erana Clark for trying to coax Laura Gissara into another inept key change.

There's just so much to look forward to, isn't there?


Just a suggestion, Laura

Cooking in Paris

The Age has reported this afternoon at this specific web location that a boy has been jailed for hacking into and stealing data from Paris Hilton's phone.

Which all sounds very appropriate (given the consistently negative reputation that "crime" appears to have in the eyes of prosecutors/the world).


The hack and the hacked in happier times

But that's not actually this story's main point of interest!

The far better and more scintillating angle to this cracking bit of journalism is the amusing fashion in which The Age is currently promoting the article online:



The headline is a corker, is it not? (So to speak.)

If only the article truly did relate the saga of one zany hotel heiress's novel if uncomfortable attempt at new age contraception.


Would this be enough

ARIA's Hosting Hassle

Hot on the heels of the announcement that ARIA has shelved its "A-Z of ARIA" theme for this year's awards (at the request of Lindy Chamberlain-Crichton) comes the news that Rove McManus WON'T be hosting the 2005 event.

It appears the ARIA Awards committee has instead opted for a "Year 10 Debating"-type theme with a "roster" of hosts which reads like a veritable who's who/Rock Eisteddfod of amateur hosting.

We can all look forward to enjoying the soothing lullaby of local cicadas as Hamish & Andy, James Mathison, Dave Hughes and Yumi Stynes (of Foxtel's Channel V) expertly engage in unfunniness on the award stage.

However, all is not lost, my friends. There is one inclusion in the hosting line-up which should have us all salivating profusely from our collective tongue.

It is a man whose ubiquity in calamitous world events is second to George W. Bush Laura Gissara none.

A man who hams it up so cheesily there could be no more appropriate hiding spot for the most expensive sandwich in Australian legal history:



A man who so adroitly and confidently stood up to a particularly assertive New Orleans female:



YES. This same man is to dole out awards to Australian musicians! How did this come to be and why exciting!

So I guess one thing is for certain. By the end of the night he will be friends with Marcia Hines. (And more than welcome at her home afterward, one would assume.)

A Fine Start

Things that defy logic:

1. Daryl Somers' employment in any live hosting capacity whatsoever
2. James Mathison's exaggerated delivery
3. The wooden and emotionless Mariska Hargitay from L&O:SUV earning acting nominations at awards shows
4. The consumption of Vegemite by humans
5. People voting for Natalie Zahra

Perhaps people simply enjoyed her impersonation of Vanessa Amorosi, right down to the amply packed mid-section. I don't know. This one is going to require some effort.

But if neither Natalie nor Laura Gissara could be eliminated, then the ideal next to go were indeed Chris Loser and Tarnish Stephens.

So, a brilliant start, except for the Milly scare. An Ano-Milly, one hopes.

The Best Show On Television, Ever (This Quarter)

It is impossible to describe just how in love I am with Australian Idol today.

I'm more in love with it today than when nodules were given their due recognition as a legitimate medical concern in 2003.

I'm more in love with it today than when the unspeakably divine Chanel Cole commenced the world's best ever enmity with the Marcia God in 2004.

I'm more in love with it than Angelina Jolie was in love with her brother on earning an Oscar in 1999!

Yet I sense these comparisons are inadequate. We need visuals!


Ha ha, stick people: you haven't even got eyes

OK. So imagine Mariah Carey's already amply inflated gob, insert 400 marshmallows into her mouth (through any force necessary, including a recording of her own highest octave range on loop), gradually fill the diminishing available buccal space with water by way of a strategically administered drip (or other liquid*, particularly if said liquid might produce an allergic reaction likely to manifest in some type of facial swelling) and, finally, surgically implant collagen into Mariah's cheeks. Then tickle her.


*Remembering that Mariah has a preference for certain liquids

This very amusing exercise probably wouldn't ever eventuate, because Mariah is a very busy person. But it does go some way toward indicating just how grossly distended and frankly BURSTING I am with love for Australian Idol, you see!

Some reasons why I feel this way today:

1. A line of cocaine! No, I jest of course, but it seems to be working wonders for Marcia Hines. Sister-girlfriend was on fire last night. And, isn't it excellent how sister-girlfriend is the very close sister-girlfriend of everyone in the Australian music industry EVER! She is so friendly, especially to the following people:
- Australian people who have recorded music
- people with penises
- teen mothers
- sister-girlfriends who can do that skilful neck dislocation that appears to be some type of non-verbal way to communicate "I'm vaguely unimpressed by something you have done", or similar emotion


Obviously it takes some practice initially

2. Laura Gissara. Yes, can you believe it? Through hating Laura, my love for Australian Idol has grown. For example, I absolutely adored:
- hearing NO applause for Laura as she took the stage
- watching Laura redefine notions of textual misinterpretation by singing the words "It would be the end of my world" with a massive smile on her face
- listening to Marcia make her best comment of the night: "I understand how walking from backstage can affect your pitch."


Earning a place in the Top 13 is all about giving good oral

3. Anne Robertson! Without a doubt one of the three strongest and most consistently accurate voices, along with Dan England and Kate DeAraugo. Plus, she is a natural neck and hip-swiveller, has an actual personality and is capable of the following:
- brilliant comebacks: "My mama taught me those moves!"
- being humble (cf. Natalie Zahra)
- multi-lingual prayer

4. The shockingly amateur hosts! I used to think it was impossible to be worse than Daryl Somers. I still do! But James Mathison and Andrew G are awful as well. This week's best complete fuck-up was Andrew G's dramatic revelation that two contestants would be eliminated, followed by James Mathison's plea for us to tune in tonight to watch one person be eliminated. And yet it's now somehow comfortingly familiar and enjoyable to watch these two stupid skill-less hacks each week butcher:
- English (Andrew G: "What was it like to sing that song in front of the guy who write it?")
- autocue reading
- fashion

5. Kate DeAraugo mispronouncing her own name ALL HER LIFE. But "De Rouge" is obviously an excellent alternative and she should consider spelling it thus. Also, she should consider giving De Eye-Liner a bit of a rest next week.

I could go on and on. And on, most probably! But I shan't, lest I bore you all/become unemployed.

So, to the rankings:

13. Natalie Zahra. Odious.
12. The Giss. Amazingly not the worst.
11. Chris Loser. Disappointing, with redundant, inexplicable accessorising to boot.
10. Tarnish Stephens. It's only a matter of time.
9. Dan Spillane. What's going on with the hair, people?
8. Milly Edwards. Upsettingly bad.
7. Lee Harding. The perfect opportunity to sing a Living End song and he chooses H&C?
6. James Kannis. What did Kannis Sr. do exactly in order to get with Mrs Kannis?
5. Emily Williams. Brought to you by the Bek LaVauney school of "I'm Doing This For My Child".
4. Roxane Lebrasse. S2BC's former favourite.
3. Kate De Rouge. S2BC's likely future favourite.
2. Zanne Robertson. S2BC's current favourite.
1. Dan England. The package. (Cf. Christie of BB.)

Now, a moment's silence to recognise the unquestionable brilliance of this homegrown production.

Thank you.

Let's Play Charades

Initially, it was all looking a bit vomitously familiar, for a period of consecutively grouped nanoseconds.

You know, the tale of how the most deserving Wild Card, an irresistibly cute female singer and quite passionately loved competitor generally, is left bereft on her stool, missing out on her dream a second time.


Ngaiire Joseph

But it quickly revealed itself to be a charade, my friends! A fucking CHARADE!

Kind of like a charade arising from a crap game of charades involving basic props. (But in every other respect a fairly basic game of charades, right down to the folded bits of paper in a hat.)

I tell you what though. If I pulled that fucker out of a hat, my prop would be a stool, emanating freshly from my own arse for symbolic good measure.

I love Roxane, but as if she and her little gaffa tape were ever going to miss out!


Version endorsed by Anne Robertson

Last night, the judges played out such a ridiculous little theatre pretending that Roxane might miss out on the finals, but she was so clearly the best Wild Card and so even more clearly the judges' favourite on Monday that it was NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN.

Kyle foreshadowed her selection on Sunday with "loved it, loved it, loved it...you deserve to be in the competition". Marcia labelled her "a contender" and used the term "finest voice".

On Monday, of Roxane and Dan Spillane, the two top vote-getters, Kyle opined, "that's who I would've chosen". No other competitor was so lauded, and none had so grievously been denied in her semi-final.

There can be no clearer indication that Roxane was going through in any event.

Plus, there is absolutely no other way to justify putting James Kannis and Emily Williams through over Roxane. None.


Britney performing Lauryn Hill's "To Zion", dressed by Emily Williams

The judges were very clearly told beforehand who the Top 2 were, chose their wildcards from the best of the others, and decided that if Roxane was not the one voted through that they would include her anyway and that’s THAT.

And because these things are so much more exciting when they're staged, we were treated to an "urgent conference" between the judges and a director while Dan was singing.

Roxane, please bow before she who paved the way:



And to finish, a picture of a total hack with rich parents:


That is all.

AI3: Wild Cards & Gaffa Tape

So, y'all, this is how it played out.

10. Irene Bosmans
9. Josh Williams
8. Chloe Zuhl
7. Lindsay West
6. Lauren Street
5. James Kannis
4. Michael Williamson
3. Dan Spillane
2. Idle Mummy
1. Roxane Lebrasse

Once again, it was all about everyone's favourite chipmunk last night.

More tomorrow, peeps.

NOT beautiful, to be blunt

The vaguely attractive but otherwise musically facile and insipid ex-military mega-poonce James Blunt has reportedly released a single entitled “You're Beautiful”.

This song is so many entire galaxies from even remotely resembling or pertaining to anything beautiful whatsoever that my brain can scarcely fathom how fucking huge that distance is.

If you haven't heard it, this is the message that the song more or less conveys:



That the misled/undiscerning general public has so swiftly, disappointingly and en masse embraced a song this horrendous and puerile – and sounding repulsively like faux Rod Stewart - demonstrates that a musical Armageddon may be upon us.

As if the whole Laura Gissara debacle wasn’t enough of a clue! Not to mention the mere existence of Irene Bosmans.

The end is nigh, my friends.