The Nittany Turkey

Primarily about Penn State football, this is a tale told by idiots, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

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Syesha’s Departure a Slam-Dunk

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I’ve been wrong all season about who will stay and who will leave American Idol, so I’ll just climb out on a limb and flat out state that Syesha Mercado will get the axe this week.

I was thinking that I had gleaned the intentions of America’s voters last week. Syesha has been a weekly low vote getter and now she’s isolated in the final four, where there are three high vote getters. (Very scientifically precise terminology, I know.) She should have no problem being eliminated this week no matter how well she does on the stage.

This week is Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame week, which means the producers couldn’t find a “guest mentor” who was cheap enough or who wanted to promote a new album. So, there will be performances tomorrow night by a couple of fill-in acts: former Idol Bo Bice and Maroon 5. Otherwise, contestants will get to choose songs from the most overplayed famous songs in the history of rock ‘n’ roll.

The Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame is in Cleveland, which means that we’ll probably get to see some “scenery” from The Mistake by the Lake. Big whoop!

This should be David Cook‘s night, being the premier rocker in the bunch. Look for another weak performance by Jason Castro. Those have come to be the norm for college dorm sing-along boy. David Archuleta, who can do no wrong by the pre-nubiles, will sing a couple of songs that will sound like every other song he has sung, and he’ll forget to obey Lord Lloyd-Weber about keeping his eyes open, yet he’ll get the most votes. Bringing up the rear (and it’s a mighty fine one), Syesha will sing her guts out but to no avail—her fan contingent is just too small, the demographic being males over 25, of which I think I’m the only one left. Alas, she’s gone before the first note is sung.

Sadly, Jason, who should have been gone weeks ago, threatens to become the Sanjaya of this year’s competition, and we’ll have to put up with him for yet another week. Then it will be down to the final two, which I hope will be Archuleta and Cook. But stranger things have happened. The folks who gave you Taylor Hicks might conspire to put Jason in the final.

Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.

Nut Case Alert!

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PETA has spoken. In the wake of the tragic Kentucky Derby place finish of the ill-fated filly Eight Belles, they have written a nastygram to the person in charge: Senator Hillary Clinton. Furthermore, just to make sure Hillary gets the message, they’re writing another nastygram to daughter Chelsea. PETA knows how to play dirty, too, thank you very much.

If you don’t know by this time, Eight Belles broke both front ankles as she charged down the stretch in a game effort to catch Big Brown, the big colt that won the race. While Big Brown was enjoying his moment of glory in the winner’s circle, Eight Belles was being euthanized on the track where she had broken down. She paid $10.60 and $6.40, posthumously.

I do not dispute the notion that the Kentucky Horse Racing Association should investigate the circumstances surrounding the filly’s tragic injury. Without being prompted to do so, the KHRA did, in fact, initiate such an investigation, which is routine anytime an animal dies on the track.

However, our nutball friends at PETA are taking this opportunity to make their silly-ass noises to expand their notariety, not only writing to Hillary and Chelsea, but also calling for the dismissal and banning of the jockey, who was out there trying to do his job. Their position is that the life of the horse is far more important than a man’s ability to earn a living and feed his family. In the meanwhile, they exploit this tragic incident to further their own questionable agenda.

PETA has had horse racing (the sport of kings) in its cross-hairs for a long time, claiming that it constitutes cruelty to their precious animals, which people “bet on just like a poker hand.” They equate it to dog fighting. If these yo-yos had their way, you wouldn’t even be able to kick your neighbor’s dog’s ass for taking a crap on your lawn.

Well, I don’t know about you, brother, but if I had had the choice, I sure as hell would have opted for a life consisting of two or three years of hard work followed by a career of chasing fillies and brood mares on some cushy stud farm. Just ask any stallion if he would have it any other way! If he could talk, he’d hoist his middle finger in PETA’s direction, and whinny out a great big belly laugh.

I know that only a small percentage of the overall racing population winds up enjoying those romantically bucolic rendezvoux, but what the hell. It would be worth the gamble. If I couldn’t compete I’d deserve to be horse meat on some foreigner’s plate or to spend my afterlife holding together the binding of a book.

Besides, now that the Swiss government has engaged a panel to report on man’s offenses against the dignity of plants and considers “beheading” wildflowers as cruelty to plants, one has to believe that the mere existence of horses constitutes cruelty to oats.

You can read the full text of the letter to Hillary in this Political Punch blog post from ABC News.

Does anyone out there—especially in the wonderful world of politics—have the balls to shut these wankers the hell up?

Bawling, Beleaguered Brookie Booted

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“Arizona’s home, but it ain’t mine no more…”, sobbed Brooke White as she tortuously performed her swan song on American Idol’s sadistic results show last night, in which the final two contestants waited about 45 minutes with their hearts in their throats to see who would stay and who would go. Syesha Mercado was the lucky one. Brookie got the boot.

The teenage popularity contest is in full swing. Jason Castro, who I characterized as singing as if at a college dorm BYOG (bring your own guitar) Friday night sing-along for losers who couldn’t get laid, was pronounced safe right off the bat. That was predictable. The voting public, consisting largely of the age 9 through 13 white female population, likes his cutesy dreadlocks, which would disqualify him from most real jobs. His songs were absolute crap, which even Simon could not adequately scorn in the time permitted.

David Archuleta, of course, was safe. He has an even larger base of prepubescent weenies than does Jason. When Ryan Seacrest asked British hottie guest singer Natasha Bedingfield if she would be Archuleta’s prom date, I thought I would puke. She could be my prom date; let’s not waste her on Speedy Gonzales. It is truly unfortunate that Archuleta remains the favorite to win the whole thing, as his high school musical singing is boring my ass to tears.

David Cook is the guy Paula Abdul and I want to win. I’ve always favored the rockers on this show, and I’ve always been disappointed. Could this be the year of the rocker? I thought surely Bo would beat Carrie a few years back, but that didn’t happen. I think the voting demographic might preclude it. (I still have no explanation for Taylor Hicks.)

Syesha Mercado, the last of the final four, no doubt will be leaving us next week, having been next-to-last in voting for the past two weeks. She’s hanging by a thread. That’s a pity, because she’s a helluva lot better and more entertaining than Jason Castro could ever be. She’s hot, too, and she’s just coming into her own musically. The past couple of weeks have seen a marked improvement in Syesha’s confidence and style. However, no matter what song she picks next week and no matter how well she performs it, Jason’s fan club will preclude her from moving on.