American awful

Every time Ryan Seacrest’s slimy over-pronounced “Uh-mer-ican Idol” indicates another round of auditions, my dad shuffles back and forth between his man cave.

While he feeds on the diva judges’ drama and is a sucker for sob stories and raw talent, he can’t stand to feel embarrassed for the tone-deaf weirdos exploited by the “talent” show’s editing.

While it could be hilarious witnessing a 45-year-old war veteran peering nervously into the living room to see if the judges’ silver-tongued bullets have ceased fire, I wonder why the producers don’t have empathy for him.

Despite their shouts of “Never!” and sidelong giggles, I actually have less of a problem with the judges. Though richer and better-looking, they’re only human.

When knowingly confronted with shoddy vocalists in clown wigs who’ve been approved by at least four rounds of producers beforehand, greeting contestants with humor instead of broken product-placed Coke bottles is almost admirable.

But if the ultimate goal of the show is to find an idol, why would producers encourage those who don’t fit their perception of what that should be?

One round of this year’s auditions took place in Long Beach, Calif., so editing took full advantage of the area’s ghost stories to pound contestants’ dreams to rubble and then their dignity to finer dust.

Ghouls rattling chains and groaning tortured back-up choruses of “yeah, yeah, yeah” accompanied less talented and more socially awkward Idol hopefuls.

This sort of cheap joke is no stranger to the show.

So much so that one contestant this season told the interviewer outright that if they planned to use her in a gag reel, she would leave immediately.

While she received a golden ticket for her voice, the attention given to her knack for balloon animals and social ineptitude was less than kind.

I don’t understand this. I mean, I understand ratings and all that. But the world around us is complicated and the one inside of us even more so.

Our insecurities should be a place we can all converge, not something to pit against one another to feel superior.

It’s strange how Idol oscillates on this point.

Within the same episode as the haunted chain-rattlers, a guy who struggled with his height and a gorgeous girl “severely bullied” in school for her early fame in singing were both championed for their difference.

Both stories brought the judges to tears and were rewarded with golden tickets to Hollywood.

Is the moral here that you won’t be ostracized for what makes you different, as long as it isn’t a lack of social graces?

What if the judges only said things that were true and kind and necessary?

What if producers only put through contestants based on actual vocal ability and not a carry-over of schoolyard bullying?

­— ashhendr@indiana.edu