How can American Idol end when I didn't know it began?

The internet is all aflutter today because this tremendous douche lost American Idol to some other poppy clown shoe. That's fine, because I thought it ended like a month ago. I have absolutely no interest in this lame garbage so it didn't bother me while it was being broadcast.

Unfortunately, even though the TV season is over, the real annoyances are just beginning.

They're going to throw this guy, who looks like an unholy union between Jimmy Fallon and Edward Scissorhands, into a studio with a team of producers and a computer that makes sure he sings in tune. They'll do the same thing with the actual winner, good ol' whatshisname.

Soon after, when I've been lulled into a false sense of pop culture security, their crappy, soulless karaoke music will be released and I won't be able to escape it. They'll play it on TV during sporting events, they'll play it where I shop for food and drink, they'll play it when I'm forced to meet family members at chain restaurants.

This is the reason American Idol is the worst show in the history of television. My Mother the Car and Cop Rock didn't have a fucking aftermath. Even an overrated shitfest like Sex and the City at least had a benign aftermath: increased consumption of Cosmopolitans.

I would like to see next season's American Idol telecast end with the winner getting pummeled unconscious by whatever band Jack White is in at the time. If a woman wins, a group of female wrestlers can do the job. Now that I'd watch.