Okay now, I've kept quiet on the subject thus far even though it has given me cause to question the validity of music appreciation and of "reality" television in general. This week, however, I find it impossible to keep my thoughts to myself. American Idol was blessed this week to be graced by the presence of Tony Bennett, the man who put the "B" in ballad and an icon of music history who is probably as responsible for as many loving moments as Issac Hayes.

For me, it shapes up like this: I don't care what Sanjaya Malakar looks like, how he dresses, how his hair is done, where he comes from, his race, religion, sexual leanings, culture or favorite muppet. The sad fact of the matter is that by now the marginally talented kid has no business occupying a spot on a stage where he could even consider the possibility of looking a man like Tony Bennett in the eye. At this point in the game it's wrong, just plain dead wrong.

You may play games with this kid if that's what you'd like to do America but think for a moment about the message you're sending to the world with your votes. You have no taste. You have no guts. You'd rather opt for humorous shenanigans over an exercise of honest conscience. You have taken the futures of at least a half dozen seriously talented people and tossed them at the dumpster because you thought it an appropriate joke to vote against what you knew to be the truth. Jim Cramer must be proud of you.

My greatest sorrow with this situation is the recollection of the passing of that other divine crooner Frank Sinatra. I really wish that Frank was still around to have witnessed this all going on. The reason being, Frank and his Rat Pack would have put an early end to all this nonsense without America being any the wiser. This is no longer a case of bad judgment. It has become a inexcusable display of gut twisting bad taste. Please America restore my faith in your recognition of talent. Reaffirm the proposition of "May the best one win".