'Idol' fast forward

Ten minutes into the movie "Click," I found myself writhing with ferocious anal pain. \nWatching the movie was like receiving a cinematic colonoscopy -- uncomfortably painful -- with a script as foul and twisted as Whoopi Goldberg's small intestine. Nevertheless, the plot presented an interesting concept: the ability to live life by remote control. \nThis fantastical scenario seems enticing. With such a clicker, we'd have the ability to pause during sex, mute President Bush or even -- upon seeing someone disturbingly ugly -- increase the tracking on his face.\nAlas, such a device has not existed -- until now. \nTBS network recently defied the laws of reality -- reality TV, rather -- by introducing "American Idol: Rewind," a show that allows obsessive viewers to watch replayed episodes from previous seasons. This time-twisting show has since become a syndicated smash, capturing an audience of nearly two people each episode (which Nielsen ratings reveal are me and a guy in Wisconsin with multiple breast cysts). \nThus, in light of such popularity, I have decided to write a column with a similar premise -- a look at the inevitable events of the sixth season, which premiered Tuesday. \nInevitable occurrence No. 1: A second-rate diva, wearing a boobaliciously low-cut evening gown, will sing (and butcher) Whitney Houston's "I Have Nothing."\nIt's happened four seasons in a row, courtesy of contestants Trenyce, Jennifer Hudson, Vonzell Solomon and -- most recently -- Katharine McPhee. Every performance somehow manages to out-suck the last, causing ears to bleed and babies to shatter. McPhee was the queen of such musical despair, with a performance so flat and wobbly it sounded like someone sat on a goat. Undoubtedly, this season will be the pinnacle of auditory rape. \nInevitable occurance No. 2: Ryan Seacrest will renew his "vaginal contract" with Fox.\nIt's getting ridiculous. After years of blonde highlights, Prada eyeglasses and crotch-hugging, boot-cut jeans, he still hasn't come out. Why? Fox is paying to keep him in, slipping paychecks under the locked closet door. While the topic of sexuality -- regardless of preference -- doesn't belong in a show about singing anyway, even off-camera this sexual farce continues. \nWhen rumors first began to surface about his wavering heterosexuality, his publicists released pictures of him on a faux date with Teri Hatcher. As if he doesn't work hard enough dancing around the topic of sexuality -- now he's schlepping his fake penis all the way to Wisteria Lane. \nInevitable occurrence No. 3: Fox executives will blatantly fabricate votes for ratings boosts. \nAfter powerhouse Tamyra Grey, from the first season, was voted off prematurely, I became skeptical about the legitimacy of the voting process. My suspicions were validated the next season, when two-ton Ruben Studdard was crowned the victor and Clay Aiken was given the silver medal. But where are they now? Clay Aiken recently released his third CD to national fanfare, and Ruben is working at the IU Bookstore. \nDespite off-key ballads, faux heterosexuals and vote rigging, "American Idol" remains a ratings juggernaut, as undeniably addicting as rich, chocolatey Ovaltine. Perhaps that's why no one's touching their remotes.