Let's face it: there must be something going on here. I mean, isn't this show simply Ed McMahon's 'Star Search' on steroids? Do we really rely on the intelligence of a judge who couldn't complete a sentence without using at least three of the following words: "dude, dog, yo, pitchy, bomb, or 'I don't know, man'?" Do we really rely on the artistic sensibilities of a choreographer turned pop singer, who's own career highlight is dancing with a cartoon cat in a music video? And do we really rely on a self-important, mean-spirited British guy to tell us what an American idol ought to look and sound like? Apparently, whether we want to admit it or not, indeed we do.

It's obvious to all by now that the North American television audience is big on voyeurism. American Idol gets it's buzz on each season as a freak show on wheels. The show may end with a search for the best, but it starts with a search for the worst. People who lack the kind of friends that might save them from sure embarrassment on national TV are trotted out to be told how pathetic they are. I actually knew a guy who was on this season's freak show. Super nice guy, who admirably went for it, but got pummeled and laughed at by millions. I saw him the day after his show aired, and I'm pretty sure he didn't make eye contact with anyone, and kept checking a mirror to see if he'd stopped blushing yet.

After the first round of shows, we're left with a large group of people with some amount of vocal chops, but most won't make it. But hey, we don't mind. Why? Because Americans love the underdog. We identify with the person who has a dream, but isn't really sure they've got what it takes to succeed. We want them to do well (because we want to do well, too)...even though we have to admit that they really don't have much of a chance.

The season finally hits its stride each year when the celebrity 'judges' actually stop deciding the fates of the contestants. Beyond their color commentary, Randy, Paula, and Simon just sit around and make sure their Coca-Cola cups are displayed prominently on their desk. The real job of judging is in the fingers of the viewing public---at least the ones who go to the trouble of dialing the magic numbers or text messaging their votes. This caters beautifully to the American ethos of democratic empowerment. The love for an electoral process is even highlighted by corrupt voting schemes and incompetence of the poll workers. We vote for who we want, whether they're the most talented or not.

Of course, America loves controversy too. For the life of me, I can't figure out why ABC thought it would be a good idea to run an 'expose' news story about American Idol. Sure it got the network some ratings points one night, but it created even more of a long-term buzz for the show, which isn't on ABC. Controversy isn't limited to the sex lives of the judges, though. Oh no, we go to quasi-journalistic web sites to read about this contestant who once posed for photos in lingerie, or that contestant who was arrested for domestic violence or drug charges. Mmmmm, we love the juicy.

Ultimately, the cultural embrace of the show boils down to a couple of concepts. First, the show represents a story of stories. The underdogs, the freaks, the expert judges, and the boy-band-cute emcee each has a story that contributes to the big picture. We don't know how things are going to turn out for our characters, but through our democratic empowerment we get to help decide. Even better, this story has heroes and villains. Except in an interesting twist, the live studio audience will tell you who the heroes are---they're the ones that lie to us, and the villains are the ones who tell us the truth. Have you noticed that any time a negative comment is spoken by any of the judges, a chorus of boos erupts? When a contestant turns in a lousy vocal and they are told so, it's apparently unbearable for the audience. "NO, NO, NO," they scream, "LIE TO US AND SAY IT WAS GOOD!!" I guess mom was right, if you can't say something nice, don't be a judge on American Idol. Positive comments elicit cheers, even if they're from Paula, who is telling the wannabe pop stars that they smiled nicely as they hit all the wrong notes.

The most telling thing about the show, and the North American following of it, is that it reveals how our mass-media driven culture really works. For the past half century, we?ve been slowly but surely trained to like certain things, celebrate certain things, and spend money on certain things. But the training has come from ourselves, and not the media empires that we like to blame. The media is as market driven as any other business in our economy. We collectively tell the media what we like and what we don't. But the members of the media (which most prominently include advertisers) are also pushing back, in both subtle and very obvious ways, shaping our likes and dislikes according to the latest cultural products available for consumption.

So in the end, American Idol succeeds simply because we love what the media tells us we're supposed to love, because we have already told the media what to tell us to love. It may be hegemony at work, but it's at least somewhat elective hegemony.

This is the part where I'm supposed to say something about culture and the emerging church. But maybe I'll let you, the reader say something about it instead. If we're living the Kingdom life in a world that huddles around television sets tuned to American Idol, how do we respond? Ask more questions, friends. For example, here's one to chew on: how many ads did you see or hear for the ABC expose story vs. ads for news stories about genocide in Africa? Why do you think that is? Peel back the veneer to see what's really underneath. There is undoubtedly some ugly stuff there, but be careful enough to see that there may be some occasional beauty there too. Understand it rather than consume it . . . otherwise, it may continue consuming you.