Are you happy with yourselves, America? Satisfied yet? This is what you wanted, right? A bunch of thick, charmless white guys for your Top 3? Well you got it!

Allison Iraheta, the most likable contestant left on this godforsaken God-and-pony show, went home the night after Danny Gokey sang his interpretation of Herod's slaughter of the children (it might've gone a little something like this). She was the last of this season's long string of sacrificial women and minorities (and a blind guy who wasn't very good), and her fate was sealed the day the producers decided the smug white-gospel walrus and West Hollywood's favorite aging jukebox musical understudy looked the funniest together.


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Oh, right, the show itself. Uh, there were prerecorded performances from No Doubt, who arrived from 1995 to set right what's gone wrong with the future, maybe, and from Paula Abdul, who didn't sing into two microphones at once. "Daughtry," a band named after a chin-bearded fourth-place Idol finalist who's now actually sold more records than any other big old doughy white dude Idol contestant because he plays a style of music that Americans buy and listen to, sang something that went on forever.

And then, almost as an afterthought, they shuffled this season's actual contestants on stage to make the winners sit in chairs for a change. This all seemed to happen in a rush during the last ten minutes of the show. (WHY IS IT AN HOUR LONG?) Richard's boyfriend, the mewling triangle-mouthed worship-leader who doesn't actually sing like a damn worship-leader, was the first one declared safe. At that exact moment we knew it was over for Allison.

The girls who inexplicably wanted to sleep with Hat Giraud switched their allegiances to Kris, God remained in the pocket for Gokey, and Adam—who we still suspect is not as popular as everyone seems to think!—had basically received the biggest blow job Idol producers can give a contestant, in the form of the recap of the worrying shock "bottom three" appearance at the open of Tuesday's show.

Allison remained a kinda funny-looking Salvadoran high school girl from LA and so she was doomed.

All the judges should be brought up before a military tribunal for their refusal to offer the poor girl anything but the most perfunctory compliments, all of which were couched in niggling criticisms based on standards never applied to Gokey or Lambert (i.e., "you dressed funny this week").

So long, Allison! Slash has your back! Maybe you can join Velvet Revolver!