I really honestly don't care if I sound like a headless teenager, I don't care if there's enough controversy to make American Idol seem more-scripted-less-live a show, I don't care if it isn't politically correct for psychologists and sensible young women to enjoy these shows, I don't care if people think I'm being over emotional (I bravely confess that I cried when Amber died on House's finale) but I did cry over the announcement of Cook's final win (I've been up all night trying to make it to 6 o clock to watch the show) and I don't care if all these things make me look 8 and it makes people doubt the things I write here henceforth. It was never about you people anyway. It is about me, me, me and me is on a high right now, as Hufsa says. I don't even care that I've taken a quantum leap into hyper reality that I've always found myself deeply aware of.
After all is said and done.
We all have our guilty pleasures.
And. This is mine.
I am totally and absolutely ecstatic that this guy won. After repeated idiocies like Taylor Hicks, Jordin Sparks, Fantasia and kicking off Daughtry, American Idol FINALLY gets something right.
The guy's brother's got brain cancer, he's never responded to Simon in the girly way most contestants do (hint = Danny Noriega and Sanjaya whatever) and he's got more grace than most of the people I've witnessed on the show, has got that mesmerizing huskiness in his songs and is now, much thankfully - your American Idol.
Here's an interesting link and a hitting-home perspective on the finale.