last night's american idol competition is best described in terms of pornography. the black man may be huge, but in the end cannot deliver the money shot like the gay man can.
ruben has great soulful runs (melisma, as i've learned from the new york times article that derides them) but no money notes. clay has money notes but no soulful runs. it's chocolate vs. vanilla, which is an interesting twist because last year kelly clarkson was able to give us both chocolate and vanilla. justin guarini was pistachio. nikki mckibbin was tofu. i've digressed to ice cream metaphors.
clive davis must be so frustrated. 'how the hell am i supposed to market this twinky broadway belter?' he must be yelling as o-town takes turns going down on him under his desk.