So, Susan Boyle didn't win Britian's Got Talent.

I can't say I'm that bothered. I mean the whole ugly duckling/beautiful swan thing has been as contrived as that shot of High Jackman in the trailers for Australia washing the soapy water off his manly chest. - because that's such a natural angle to hold a bucket of water...  Although to be honest, the most unbelievable thing about that scene is the notion you can get that many suds from the notoriously hard water up here...hehehe

But I digress...

I was talking about talent shows and YouTube celebrity Susan Boyle whose appearance on BGT was a set up from the getgo. What a thrill for the producers it must have been, when someone who looked like the "before" shot in an episode of Extreme Makeover fronted up to their auditions and turned out to have a half-decent voice.

We were played. The producers knew exactly what they were doing when they scanned the studio for close-ups of the scornful audience on her first appearance. They'd already heard her sing. They knew what was coming and the reaction it would evoke. They'd done it before, after all, with opera singer Paul Potts.  They've probably been scouring the land ever since that night searching for the worst-looking/best sounding singing talent they could find in the hope of reproducing the Potts effect.

And the world happily went along for the ride, as if it was such a shock someone who looked like that could appear on a show like that and turn out to have, well, talent...

Seriously, without the voice of an angel, Susan Boyle wouldn't have got past the front door of a top-rating show like Britian's Got Talent. Rumour has it one of the crew watching her audition went straight home and registered her name as a domain, because he knew what was coming.

You have to wonder if Susan Boyle knew how they were using her. You have to wonder if she was completely clueless, or if they sat her down beforehand and said, "look, Suze, we've got a chance here. You're frumpy and overweight and you look like the back end of a bus, so we're going to run with that. And then, when you start singing like Elaine Page, the world will fall at your feet because they'll feel so bad about judging you so harshly that their guilt will give you wings. So you go girl, and don't mind how long the cameras dwell on the sniggers, the judgemental arseholes and the sceptics. It's all good television and who knows, it may even help you win."

If she was a party to the beat-up, then I'm glad she didn't win. If she wasn't, then I hope her 15 minutes lasts long enough to make some serious cash.

And while on the topic of coming second in talent shows, conversely, I think the best thing for Adam Lambert was that he didn't win American Idol. He needs to do his own thing, not get stuck with recording the lame-o, inoffensive, non-controversial, pop-pulp songs Idol winners are doomed to record. All the best talent to come from AI (with the exception of Kelly Clarkeson) have not won the title. That says something, don't you think?

Good on Kris What-his-Name for winning, but we'll have forgotten him completely in 2 years. Adam Lambert will be touring with Queen:)

I guess that's the difference between a savvy, stadium-filling talent like Lambert's and a TV beat-up, (albeit talented) amateur-theatre singer like Boyle. The complete opposite of Susan Boyle (in every way imaginable) Adam Lambert wasn't used to make good TV by humilating him first and then going "na-na-na, I can sing" at his remorseful audience. He played the American Idol game like a pro and got as far as he needed to go, to get the break he needs. And knew what he was doing every step of the way. Nobody shamed him to beat up their ratings. He did just fine without any help from contrived scenarios like the Boyle incident staged for maximum impact.

5 years from now, Lambert will be superstar. Kris Thingamy will have faded from our memories and Susan Boyle's fame will live on only within the archives of YouTube (as much for her angry, stressed-out  "f-bomb" outbursts as her singing, I fear) and whatever else she can garner from her 15 minutes of fame.

I hope, when she looks back over that first appearance on BGT, she still believes it was worth it.

I just keep thinking that if it was me, and my only path to glory was through ridicule and shame, I kinda think I'd rather be anonymous.

UPDATE: Humiliation may not be good for the soul, but it sure does wonders for the bank account:)

And this is what happened...

I cannot move up here without being sat upon by cats.

Obie the ADHD Shitzu jumps on my desk on a regular basis to chase the pussies and almost knocked the monitor onto the floor last night. (I think I'll change the breed name . Get rid of the "zu" at the end. That pretty much describes him...hehehe)

Declan refuses to let me type and keeps walking across the keyboard.

That manic look in my eyes in the above photo is because the menagerie is keeping me awake half the night and I'm suffering severe sleep deprevation.

More coffee for me. Sedatives for the 4 legged furry things that are ruling my life.

I was very cold here last night, as I discovered when I woke up at 3.48 am this morning to find I couldn't move. It was really scary for a moment... until I realised it wasn't a medical problem, however. It was a creature problem...

You see, sitting on the top of my head, was Declan the Psycho Pussy (which is scary because moving him involves claws). Pinning down the blankets on my left side were Bruce's Breakfast Fluffy the Maltese, and, snoring like a train at his feet, was Obie, my late husband's 8-month-old hyperactive shitzu-cross, which I have now adopted. Curled up on my feet, (under the blankets) was Chuck, the little siamese cat I also acquired along with my ex's car payments and credit card debts. Perched on my chest was Stevie, the Queen of the Pussies, looking rather peeved that all the good warm spots were taken.

And on my right side, Dace - who when he is asleep is a dead weight akin to a tree-trunk - had wandered in looking for somewhere warm too.

Seriously, I was totaly immobilised.

I was warm, though:)

The Google widget thingy has done it's job again, and sent me what I thought, at first, was a review of The Immortal Prince.

Well, it was, kinda... but it was actually a personal blog (nothing wrong with personal blogs) with the blogger's brief review of TIP followed by this comment on Book 2:

Then we have on a lesser note, Gods of Amyrantha. I haven't actually finished this book yet, since reading it via the fruitcake method of the search function is quite a trial to say the least. 

WTF???

How in the name of all that is good and holy (or bad and unholy for that matter..hehehe) does one read a book via the fruitcake method of the search function ?

Please explain...

In the litany of unbelievable that has become my life of late...

I have now been called up for Jury Duty again.

Last time, I wound up the jury foreman on a rape trial. Maybe this time I'll get a good one... like...

I dunno... what's a "good" crime...