Of course, this episode-stealing whipsong - which may result in me accepting Ryan Seacrest's offer to buy an Idol performance via iTunes, something I never thoughr I'd actually consider - arrived at the tail end of a string of performances so unimpressive that I almost caught myself rooting for Nick fucking Mitchell. Yep, it was that kind of night, that kind of group; thank God we've got Lil Rounds and Nathanial Marshall fighting for their 15 minutes next week.
The poor-song-choice theme carried over from last week, with Matt Giraud huffing, puffing, and sucking his way through Coldplay's "Viva la Vida," Jazmine Murray - who apparently thought she'd be an extra in a Madonna video set in a nightclub - further demonstrating why "Love Song" shouldn't be an Idol standard, and Kai Kalama pulling a karaoke boner with "What Becomes Of The Broken Hearted." I could go on, but I won't.
I'm repulsed and intrigued by Mishavonna Henson's weirdly structured face and pug nose; she's like a living caricature.
Notice how whenever Paula Abdul yammers on and on, time almost stands still?
Nick Mitchell: because America needed an affected, Sammy Davis Jr-esque version of "And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going," complete with context-specific adlibs, at this time of national crisis.
If Jessie Langseth somehow manages to stay in this competition, I may have to kill myself. I can't stomach her Jeanine Garafolo/Kelsey-from-Project Runway snark, and she loses points for wearing a Lisa Bonet hat in her pre-performance package.
Also, Kai Kalama? Wearing a dread cap when you don't have any dreads is bullshit.
WE JUST WEREN'T THAT INTO YOU: Jasmine Murray, Matt Giraud, Jeanine Vailes, Jessie Langseth, Kai Kalama.
MAYBE, MAYBE: Nick Mitchell, Matt Breitzke, Mishavonna Henson, Megan Joy Corkrey.
COME AND ROCK THE SURE SHOT: Adam Lambert, Kris Allen, Allison Iraheta.