XPost: soc.culture.thai, us.politics   
   From: yaabaabozo@farang-supremacist.es   
      
   Thanks Abelardo!   
      
   Well done mate.   
      
   Can you please post some more of these funny 'Takin' posts for me?   
      
   Be a sport/asshole will you?      :-)   
      
      
   Your true amigo,   
   Pink Lao   
      
      
   --   
   "I don't feel the need to publish my personal life on the Internet like   
   others do." - Abelardo Trivino (abelardo@kkk.es)   
      
      
      
      
      
      
   "Abelardo Trivino"  wrote in message   
      
   We Get the Idols We Deserve   
      
   By Robin Givhan   
   Friday, May 12, 2006; C02   
      
      
      
   The departure of rocker Chris Daughtry from "American Idol" means that   
   the squishy middle has won once again. Daughtry was voted off the show   
   this week, leaving behind three uninspired performers who may appeal to   
   the masses but lack any distinctive personal style.   
      
   After weeks of patiently watching, obsessing and praying for Elliott   
   Yamin, Katharine McPhee and Taylor Hicks to reveal some sense of   
   personal aesthetics, there has been nothing but disappointment. McPhee   
   lacks zest and stage presence and the capacity to distinguish style   
   from an assemblage of unedited trends. Yamin and Hicks lack Daughtry's   
   supremely fine bald head and ability to wear a thick, macho wallet   
   chain and not look as though he should be bicycling across K Street   
   making a super-rush delivery.   
      
   Daughtry glared. He glowered. He did the rock-star growl during which   
   he looked to be at risk of popping his jugular. He wore cool shades. Oh   
   sure, he was cocky. But he should have been. He was the best. America,   
   have you no soul?   
      
   Yamin seems like a nice guy. He has a nice voice and he wears a lot of   
   tasteful blazers, which should serve him well should he ever find   
   himself sitting in the human resources office of an insurance agency.   
   McPhee seems like a pleasant girl. She has a pleasant voice. She's a   
   brunette beauty with long legs and nice cleavage -- that she has   
   amiably displayed -- which should all serve her well . . . no matter   
   what. Last month, when Hicks wore that ice-blue Costume National suit,   
   it seemed he had style possibilities. He refused to dye his gray hair   
   and he has an interesting gravelly voice. But then he wore a paisley   
   shirt, sang Wild Cherry's "Play That Funky Music" and writhed on the   
   floor like a Joe Cocker impersonator. He wore paisley, people. He   
   cannot win and he will be discussed no further.   
      
   In Daughtry, America had the opportunity to choose distinctiveness,   
   confidence and cool. Instead, it chose bland and boring. Blech and   
   blech.   
      
   All one can do now is savor the memories of Daughtry. There was the   
   week that he embraced the cleaned-up-rocker look with his black   
   trousers and matching vest. He wore one of those short-sleeve shirts   
   with the cuffs that cut tightly across the biceps. Their sole purpose   
   is to make a man's upper arms look Paul Bunyan big, as though he has   
   spent his entire adult life chopping wood, hunting and gathering just   
   for you. That was a very good week for Mr. Daughtry and his fans.   
      
   He sometimes wore a blazer, usually when he was planning to stand   
   calmly behind the microphone -- rather than prowl the stage -- while   
   yelling his lungs out. Typically Daughtry wore those blazers with a   
   pair of jeans that were loose, but not baggy. He wore expertly faded   
   T-shirts and macho silver jewelry. And he always looked like the same   
   guy from one week to the next. He looked as though he had been groomed,   
   but not dressed.   
      
   Daughtry had a cocksure style that might have irritated some voters.   
   But he was the only contestant who seemed to understand that a pop idol   
   needs an indelible image, swagger and self-confidence. While successful   
   pop singers often have imperfect voices, they have something else that   
   makes up the difference: a look, a sensibility, a point of view. They   
   know who they are and they know how to communicate that in songs and   
   through their stage images.   
      
   It may be that Daughtry was done in by the system. To attract voters,   
   the contestants must be desperately humble. Aw shucks, pick me! Love   
   me! They must display a freeze-frame grin for the camera and then flail   
   their fingers around like they're practicing Chisanbop to remind   
   viewers of which number to call to cast their vote. Winning "American   
   Idol" requires the perfect balance of mediocrity and humility. The   
   better the voice, the style, the package, the more self-effacing the   
   performer must be. Whoever heard of a humble rocker? Daughtry was   
   doomed.   
      
   Now that he's gone, there is a choice of nice Elliott, pleasant   
   Katharine and the paisley karaoke king who shall not be named. As so   
   often is the case, the quality of the candidates makes it hard to go to   
   the polls.   
      
   © 2006 The Washington Post Company   
      
   http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/05/11/   
   R2006051102135_pf.html   
      
      
      
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