With all the work around here, I’ve been culling the crap I watch on TV to a few favorites. Rome on HBO is fantastic. I’m glad to see that Russell is liking it and that Robert Farley has been catching the historical errors. I haven’t liked it as much as the first season, though I think it’s starting to hit its stride again.

Lost, of course. Amused that the Television Without Pity gang is gunning for Charlie’s death.

And American Idol. In general, I watch the show not for the music, which feels canned and tasteless, but for the criticism. I like matching up the judges comments with my impressions. I like to indulge my inner talent scout.

This past week, the top 12 male vocalists performed and they were God awful. I would surf around when they were singing and come back when the judges spoke. But after an hour, that wasn’t even amusing. One guy had a Morissey-thing going on, and the last guy, who resembled Beaker from the Muppet Show, wasn’t bad, but on the whole, the show was a pile of turds. I swore off Idol forever.

Well, I gave it one more chance on Wednesday, because I wanted to see one of the women singers, Lakisha Jones. The few clips that I had seen of her the week before had stuck with me. The women singers were much better than the guys, but still Steve kept poking me to change the channel. “Wait until the fat girl sings,” I insisted. The producers wisely put her last, batting clean-up, so we were forced to watch the whole damn show. It was worth it. That woman was fantastic. She’s got a huge gospel trained voice and a chills-up-the-spine performance. Check her out.

The Oscars are on tonight. Last year, I live blogged them. I’m wavering, but I think I probably won’t be able to do that tonight. Maybe just some snark tomorrow morning.