American Idol
Grand Finale

Episode Report Card
Jacob Clifton: A+ | Grade It Now!
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Ryan's wearing his usual black suit and tie and looking like one million pre-tax dollars. Blake and Jordin make bored, goofy faces as Ryan wonders aloud who will take the title, the "beatboxer from Seattle," or the "sweetheart from Arizona"? The world is watching, he says ominously: "This is American Idol." There are awkward daps for the band leader and a complete disinterest in the crowd as he hits the stage. It's all very cinematic; I highly recommend HD. Oops, spoke too soon: Teri Hatcher. Why do they insist on bringing her here all the time? It makes me nervous. Even scarier is Ryan's declaration that this season has already comprised forty-nine hours of television. Forty-nine hours! If they McDowell'd you in a room and clipped your eyeballs open for forty-nine hours with this crap, how bored would you be? Dead. Dead amount of bored.

Jordin gets some cheers from Foxworthy and a very unhappy Jerry Springer. All night long, you don't see one without the other; it's telling. America, see what happens when you stop paying attention? The cheers are louder for Blake, but it's a West Coast audience so that doesn't mean anything. Ryan gives propers to "the people who discovered them in the first place," the judges. Randy's wearing a strange, ugly jacket that makes him look like the leader of a small African nation in some terrible '70s movie. Paula's hair is smaller, her nose is adorable, and she's looking fine. Time enough for the ugly crying. Simon's wearing: a black jacket, shirt open to here, a proud expanse of rich white flesh, a smarmy stare, and a sexy wink at Ryan. Those two. How weird is it when the slashers win and the people give in? Remember that one Dawson's Creek where the whole teaser was Dawson and Pacey declaring their horndog teenage love for each other? Shivery.

Dude, Randy thinks it's gonna be a hot one night. I'm going to open this bag of M&Ms right now and line up all the green ones, and every time Randy says something relevant, I'm going to eat one. Better than gastric bypass, boy. Randy yells at Ryan to call it right now and Ryan explains that if he does that, it will mean big trouble, because we need to sit through fifty-one hours of this crap before that happens -- and then we won't get to see it, because FOX is run by incontinent old men that still don't get time-shifting. Paula says something or another is "excellent" and Ryan's like, "Simon, you already look bored." You and me both, baby doll. Simon says it's because he's listening to Ryan; Ryan has his usual grace about it all, bonding with Paula over how awesome finales are, and how conversely unawesome Simon can be. Blake is cute all over.

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American Idol

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