I probably shouldn't like this. But I'm such a vainglorious headcase, I totally dig being talked about like a misunderstood beast roaming the Serengeti. My friend/bad-habit enabler Wade Tatangelo, music critic at Creative Loafing, the alt-weekly in town, debates why daily (and Daly) music critics bother writing about such pap as American Idol. He figures that, in the dismal newspaper climate, it's now a matter of survival -- and a whole lotta music (movie, TV, book, food) critics aren't surviving these days. There's a rather hilarious debate in the comments section (wow, and here I thought readers didn't like me), plus the origin story from L.A. and the fallout story from Toronto. READ IT HERE.

Wade and I are hanging out at the Knopfler show tomorrow, so we'll probably discuss this + bad habits during the intermission. But lemme say this: I'm a pop music/culture writer for a general interest newspaper. American Idol is without a doubt the most influential pop-culture phenomenon of the 21st century, a franchise that has shaped how we watch TV, how we buy music, etc. I don't have to like it -- but I do have to try and understand it. And, of course, to make as many Funyun jokes as possible.

But Wade is very right in saying the climate for critics has become dire. It's bloody out there. And that's too bad. Sooner rather than later, with only so many warm bodies on a staff, I could be writing about everything, whether Simon Cowell's involved or not.