A quick YouTube search for "Adam Lambert" generates hundreds of results, including footage of him in a production of Wicked; a video of him sporting peroxided Billy Idol hair and a Scissor Sisters/Darkness-worthy magenta unitard at an Art4Life benefit concert; and cameraphone clips of him wistfully warbling the existential anthem "Dust In The Wind" at a Hollywood cabaret.

There are also dozen of salivating fan video tributes, which I think bodes well for him when he sings on American Idol next week.

But of all the Adam Lambert videos out there on the Interweb, I most dig this one of him glamming it up Hedwig The Angry Inch-style, complete with Adam Ant warpaint, vacuum-sealed pleather pants, a man-corset, a flock of firedancers, and an octave-shattering rock 'n' roll screech that indicates he is one of the few Idol contestants this season fully capable of taking on a kiss-of-death Queen or Heart song:

Yes, I know I criticize some Idol contestants for being too over-the-top (Tatiana,

Finally, tonight was the night when the fate of American Idol was placed squarely back in the hands of America. The hands of The People. No more all-powerful judges smugly handing out golden tickets, callously tossing contestants' Polaroids into the trash, and forcing hapless hopefuls like Cody Sheldon to participate in sudden-death singoffs. Tonight, the chosen 36 semi-finalists started singing for the viewers' votes, not the judges' praise, on live television. And this was where the real competition began.

THIS is American Idol, as Ryan Seacrest (he of the Simon-described new Single White Female haircut) would say.

So tonight the first batch of 12 singers (apparently/hopefully chosen at random) stepped up to the mic, with the resultant top male and top female vote-getter each getting through to the top 12, followed by the next highest ranker (be it male or female, thus sort of lessening the strict gender quotas of past seasons). Their goal tonight was--as Paula Abdul semi-coherently

Well, this is a big week for American Idol season 8. It's the week when the all-powerful judges shuffle around contestants' Polaroid pictures like they're playing some master game of Jenga, and in the end they select the top 36 that will perform for the American voters. Tonight they tossed a few Polaroids into the trashbin that I think should have stayed on their casting table for at least another episode, while there were a few other Polaroids that, um, I didn't think deserved a chance to develop. (Sorry, couldn't resist.)

Some of the people who made it through, which I am happy about, included:

Norman Gentle - Omigod omigod omigod! I can't believe that a wacky unknown comic, who clearly auditioned with no greater aspiration than becoming the next Milo "No Sex Allowed" Turk, has made it this far. But I'm not going to question the gift. Norman may be dishwater-dull whenever he performs as "himself," aka Nick Mitchell, but when he wisely decides to put on his alter ego's trademark

She was upagainst some illustrious competition: Raphael Saadiq, Eric Benet, Boyz II Men...eventhe legendary Al Green, who wonderfully performed on the Grammy telecast with JustinTimberlake tonight.

But when Whitney Houston cracked openthat envelope and read the name of the winner for Best R&B Album, the name sheread was...Jennifer Hudson.

I am sovery happy for J.Hud, after all she'sbeen through with the slaying of her family last October, that she can now puta Grammy statuette next to that Oscar on her mantelpiece. And I don't believe she got her Grammy due to sympathy votes,either. She earned it the old-fashioned way: with a great album, period.

I only wishthat Jennifer's late mother, brother, and nephew were here to witness her triumph tonight. I'mkind of surprised Jen didn't mentionthem at length in her acceptance speech (she simply thanked "those in heaven and those who are with me today"), but I suppose she wanted to keep things upbeat.

Anyway, I'm sure her relatives were with