Last week, Seachrist promised us one of the strangest auditions ever, and indeed, it was odd. Dressed in a skintight French-cut belly shirt with Frankie Bs slung down to the pubic region, a rail-thin giggly eighteen-year old told the judges that he found it funny that people mistook him for a girl. Randy feigned surprise that he was a boy, Paula was quiet, and Simon smirked. The jet-boy-jet-girl was predictably an awful singer, and the segment was played for laughs.
Within 48 hours, GLAAD, a watchdog group of shrill finger-waggers that really should accessorize their acronym with an exclamation point, issued a condemnation of American Idol for its amplified homophobia this season. I’d furrow my brow, too, if I thought it accurate, but the show is all about ridicule, and baby, if you’re going to wear your hair in a pampered bob, be prepared.
The Tanning Salon Coalition didn’t freak out over the sun-damaged girl and her mom, and there wasn’t a peep heard from the NAACP when creative editing and the panel of judges routinely make a mockery of black contestants. The mentally challenged, witness the "entrepreneur" in his checkered outfits, are woefully underrepresented, much to our delight.
Maybe because GLAAD is purportedly my watchdog group that I find them choosing all the wrong battles, whether its whining about Eminem lyrics or railing against Dr. Laura. Yeah, Mr. GLAAD, that’s what’s causing homophobia. Willfully ignorant of context and lacking the humor gene, GLAAD are professional foot-stamping activists, and every time they issue one of their sniveling press releases, I want to shrink.
The good news, though, is Kendra made it through to Hollywood and hopefully her lifetime of foster care will come to a happy conclusion. That’s what Hollywood is all about. Healing. Now if she can only get GLAAD’s publicist on board, she’ll have a superstar career.