I knew why he came to mind, at least. The bar music was drilling through my skull, and, between my drunken wife trying to get me to dance and my attempts to take pictures of her grind-dancing with her stripper friend, I was passing the time by trying to think of music that could, somehow, be possibly worse than what was banging away at my ear drums. Compared to what I was hearing, Hung seemed like a pleasant diversion.

I rarely watch “popular” television and have only ever seen one episode of American Idol. As luck would have it: I saw the episode that birthed Hung upon America like an exploding cactus full of baby spiders. His “interesting” version of She Bangs stuck with me, and I could finally understand why some people enjoy the show; or, at least why they like the auditions. The next day, when my co-workers and radio show hosts were all talking about him, I was able to join the conversation and share more laughs. I thought I’d forget all about him within a week.

God, was I wrong!

William Hung has been riding his 15 minutes of fame rather successfully. People know he has no talent, but have clung to his heroic underdog attempt and have turned him into a cult celebrity. Hell, he’s probably downloaded from the internet as much as big-boob lesbian porn! (Paris Hilton must not have had a sex video floating around that week.) He has appeared on Jay Leno, Jimmy Kimmel and has numerous fan websites dedicated to him. He even released a CD containing a plethora of cover songs – those karaoke-like songs that American Idols are so famous for. His CD, Inspiration, even debuted at 34 on the Billboard 200 when it hit the shelves. Maybe the economy isn’t so bad if people are plopping that much money for something they can see at any local dive bar on a quiet Sunday night.

I’ll be honest: I have two opinions about him. First, I hate Idol’s concept: it is just overplayed, crappy pop music that is sung by aspiring karaoke contest winners. Yet, I enjoy the fact that I can’t name any other contestant this season, I only know the guy that was nearly laughed out of his audition. He has somehow managed to make sweet lemonade, albeit temporarily, for himself with a dismal performance that even I could beat – and my singing makes deaf people cry. He proves that you don’t need something nasty like talent getting in the way of success.

He is a testament to the flaw of Idol’s goal; they are trying to create (and cash in) on the next “big thing” in music, and yet, one of their rejects has been embraced by the people – probably more so than whomever ends up winning at the end of the season. (And let’s be honest: the whole voting system is a joke and can be easily manipulated. I’d love to see Howard Stern urge all his listeners to vote for the worst contestant left and see how skewered the show becomes.)

But a part of me is just annoyed by him. He has NO talent; his singing leaves a taste in ones’ mouth worse than having to eat your own entrails. There is even a part of me that is both jealous and impressed that he had the balls to release a CD. (Although, the music company that actually signed him to a deal must have balls the size of Indiana to take a risk on him – my hat’s off to them.) In this way, he paradoxically encompasses the worst trait of American Idol: his name is going to be hammered into you by the media until you can’t help but get his “singing” stuck in your head, whether it is something you enjoy or not. I’m guessing you fall under the “not” category, but I’m assuming you have ears.

I just have one question: who are the fuckwads buying his CD? If you bought it, then what the hell is wrong with you? Scientists are looking for you, though; you’d be a great candidate for experimentation into discovering which synapse becomes so decayed that it can cause a person to desire having Hung’s voice on permanent media to enjoy for decades to come. They also want to know if you’re one of the six assholes that actually went to see From Justin to Kelly.

To me, William Hung is like midget porn: you don’t go looking for it, but if you stumble upon it, you’re fascinated by the train wreck in progress. And like midget porn actors, you’re not respecting and enjoying Hung’s talent, you’re making fun of him. The sad thing is, I believe he feels he has a singing career ahead of him, that he has potential to be a “star.” This fame is going to go to his head, and he’ll be a footnote in the American Idol: a Look Back fifth year retrospective.