With the beginning of each new year, I find myself inevitably tuned into American Idol. Every year, I ask only one thing of the show: human sacrifice night. So far, after watching AI for over a decade, the program has not met my viewing demands. Too bad. Offering up the sacrifice of a bad singer would be a ratings winning family pleaser. Oh, sure, sacrifice is a disgusting, inhumane notion. The fact is, I could be sacrificed for mediocrity. Still, I have a whole President Snow sort of vision of the nation being riveted to a more fierce style of Idol elimination. In my ultimate version of the once relevant singing competition contestants are made to walk up an active volcano, sing and then wait for the verdict on their performance. If they are deemed to have performed poorly, emcee Ryan Seacrest hits the singers in the kneecaps with his tiny microphone until they fall into the boiling lava.Such a simple, quality idea. Life, death and being pummeled by the dwarfish incarnation of Dick Clark until you fall into a pit of molten rock. Oh, and singing. Now that’s a show.
American Idol will never take me up on this idea, probably because the producers have some noble, sane idea of what constitutes moral television viewing. My answer to this is that if wrestling is fake, then reality television shows should be more real. If only TV shows could combine the great elements of Lost, Survivor, and a singing competition. Something involving Christina Aguilera in a loincloth fighting with tigers (while singing), a fiery volcano and Jeff Probst interviewing Nicki Minaj while she yammers about something only surgically enhanced automatons from North Jersey understand. Aw, I ain’t mad at TV. I just want more entertainment for my viewing time. That, and Ryan Seacrest pushing whiney singers into volcanos. And Muppets. I don’t ask for much.