In what is turning out to be the worst overall season of American Idol since its inception in 2002, Melinda Doolittle and Lakisha Jones are either making everybody else look indescribably bad or they're just that good.

I still say Melinda is miles ahead of Lakisha for one reason: degree of difficulty. Doolittle sang "Home," some obscure song from The Wiz while Jones sang "God Bless The Child," which a thousand singers have done quite well.

What made Tuesday night's episode of Idol unique is the big "who cares" factor among everybody else. Chris Sligh came out with an adult rock version of "Endless Love" and polarized the crowd among those who thought it was the worst thing ever and those who thought it wasn't quite the worst thing ever.

Count me among the latter; I didn't think it was nearly as bad as everybody else. However, I find the song to be rather vapid when compared to a billion other ballads he could have chosen. In fact, if I'm being honest (to quote Simon Cowell), I am not a fan of Diana Ross.

Her voice. Her look. The whole drag-queen thing.

I'm not sure I would have done any better picking among her tunes. However, if I'm Sligh or Blake Lewis, I stick to the original arrangements in the future. I've been amazed thus far at how Brandon Rogers has taken a potentially great voice and messed up his chances of winning this show by picking songs that don't match his style at all or for not having a style at all. Nonetheless, Sligh and Lewis both get sent to the dunce corner for doing too much by even trying to re-arrange these songs.

Hey, on "Rock Star," you can arrange the song any way you'd like. You can play instruments. You can drink and smoke and get tattooed and cuss and show off naughty bits and the whole bit, but you know what the big difference is? The house band on that show is really, really, really tight, and to arrange songs and then put it in the hands of the Ricky Minor band, I think, is a mistake.

What's amazing about Sligh's arrangement and how it didn't come off is that if you listen to Half Past Forever's "Know," you'll know just how good of an arranger he is. Now, that doesn't mean it always works, but I'm not convinced that the Idol house band didn't foul that up.

Regardless, it didn't work, and frankly none of it worked.

Sanjaya Malakar has officially grown a vagina, as he wailed through "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" and shook his tail like a prepubescent girl. Unfortunately, this season's second Justin Suarez swish-alike can't sing worth ass.

He's not to be outdone by the underachieving, terribly disappointing Brandon Rogers, the first guy from North Texas who sucks. UNT is only the best music school in the southwest, but you wouldn't know it by listening to this dude. Great tone, but he's a complete underachiever musically.

Phil Stacey looks like a cancer patient and sings in such a way that it makes me wish I were undergoing chemo, and Chris Richardson is a nice enough kid who, truthfully, only got this far because he sounds like Justin Timberlake.

The women weren't that much better; however, they were all moderately good. Haley Scarnato wasn't nearly as bad as Randy and Paula made her out to be. Heck, Simon even took up for her, and may I say just how gorgeous she is. Points for lookin' hot because Lord knows there wasn't much musical outside of the Wonder Twins for me to appreciate this week.

Jordin Sparks looked cute as well but, dude, I wasn't feelin' it, dawg. Her rendition of whatever the hell that was made me want to don the dress blues and put cellophane over my head like Ben Kingsley in the great "House of Sand & Fog."

I'm grumpy, tired and going to bed.