Idol Worship

For the past few weeks, every Wednesday and Thursday (and now Tuesdays, too) at 4 pm, the entire office will settle in front of our miniscule TV, and indulge in a most plebeian obsession : watching American Idol.

We'll "chup" our favourite spot - me smack in the middle of a huge green sofa, Suhaimi on a pink club chair, and everyone else on anything else that's available - and we'd wait patiently as Ryan Seacrest announces the start of the show. We speculate on who will get kicked out. We speculate on Mr Seacrest's sexual orientation. We speculate if Simon and Paula are getting it on. Most of all we speculate how much more money Rupert Murdoch will have after this show; and why Fox doesn't allow worldwide voting (after all, the shows are supposed to be "direct off satellite", and Fox could always tie up with a local telco --- free ideas, free ideas)

Not surprisingly, Fox demolished competitors in the ratings race between US TV networks, commanding a hefty 29 percent in the adults 18-49 demographic. Impresive, considering that in an increasingly fragmented audience, no recent TV show commands more than 20 percent of available viewership.

Oh, I'm just trying to sound clever because obsessing over American Idol is such inane, guilty pleasure. I doubt I'm alone here, because I'm thinking, all across the globe, thanks to the extensive Fox-Sky-Star web of dominion, there could be so many other giddy fans like me, who are ready to sacrifice an hour of their time to the AI shrine. If you're a giddy idiot, again like me, it's more than an hour *cringe* because I watch re-runs and log on to the forums at idolonfox, where I can be consumed by the excitement over every small remark or gesture on the show, with thousands of other giddy idiots.

I know it's sad. It's not like I don't have a life. In fact I'm giving my life away. As we devour American Idol, my office-mates and I also devour fried bananas, karipap sardin, and-- my personal favourite --Hwa Tai cream crackers drenched in condensed milk. This afternoon Suhaimi and Shazwan watched Melinda Lira get eliminated while munching on tamarind paste, yes, asam jawa, uncooked, straight from the wrapper. When it's "Seacrest, out" on the finale, all of us wouldhave gained 13 extra kilos and a really bad case of heartburn.

Worse than that, is my willingness to forgo what Aiysha calls "quality time", especially with her. Everything has to be scheduled around this danged singing contest. Last week, a client dropped by, unexpectedly, at 3.40 pm. He wanted to give us two new jobs, which were in fact, wonderful assignments. But I was cursing him under my breath for being so untimely. I ended up staying back in the office that day, because I knew there was no way I'd watch the program in peace if I went home to 3 yelping children. Baaaad mummy.

I swear, this has never happened to me before. I was safely immune to Akademi Fantasia, and God knows, wasn't the least interested in any of the contestants of Malaysian Idol (but I'd vote for Aleya, hands down). American Idol 3 was ho-hum to me, too. But this one, this one, aaah, it's hard to put a finger on it. They tweaked it. Maybe they had some actors in. Whatever it is, reel me in. I want to be Mrs Rupert Murdoch next.


Replace the hat with a tudung, and hey presto, I'm his type! Move over, Mrs No 2.



mokciknab muttered at 5:35 pm ~ ~