This is an essay built on hypocrisy.

This is an essay built on standing on the highest rock around and looking down on you and shaming you into thinking the way I think.

Above all, this is an essay about William Hung.

Recently, American Idol (which is now on ABC??) announced that in the early stages of the talent show, they would not show the overtly undertalented. William Hung and the Looking-Like-A-Fool-With-Your-Pants-On-The-Ground Guy are gone.

When I was in high school, these are two of the many things that I did: I found a pair of shoes in the dumpster and then wore them the next day because I/everyone else thought it was funny and I bought the William Hung CD for my girlfriend because she thought he was funny. Now, she was the sadistic and horrible type lovely type, but it’s interesting to dive deeper into William Hung.

When watching his audition, I think all of America thought the same two things: “That is an awesome name for a porn star,” and “That Asian boy is retarded.”

(Really quick note: It was 2004 and the R-word was still around).

The thing is, he wasn’t r-word. He was born in Hong Kong and was studying civil engineering at Cal Berkeley, which probably means he is smarter than anybody reading this – except for you, Kirby.

However, according to his Wikipedia page, he left college after his appearance to pursue a music career. He put out an album, the one I bought, later that year. The name of the album was Inspiration, a title that was had to have been thought up by a bunch of people laughing at his inadequacies. It peaked at No. 1 in the Indie charts. He sang Take Me Out to the Ballgame  and was brought out as a national joke.

Here’s where that pesky hypocrisy starts to creep in.

I love to make fun of shitty “celebrities.” Rob Schneider is horrible and I want everyone within a hundred yards knows it. The Kardashians are a plague upon the country, much like blood rain, frogs, and locusts depleting all of our crops and all of our best black basketball players.

For some reason, we don’t laugh at them. We laugh with them.

I picture Billy Hung backstage before his first performance at American Idol. There’s no way that he’s thinking he will become a national treasure because people are going to point at him and laugh and say how, while they can’t sing a single note, they aren’t as bad as him. He probably earnestly thought he was going to go out there and shine and make the country fall in love with his voice.

Eventually, after nearly a decade of gradually declining record sales, he left the music industry and took a job with the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department as a technical crime analyst.

To be honest, I’m jealous. That sounds like an awesome job and one that I would have gladly taken. However, his story is an excellent one when it comes to fame. Would you take the accolades if it meant everyone in the country was laughing at you and not with you?

I can’t sing but I love to sing – Katie can attest to that.

I feel like I have the confidence and, more importantly, the self-realization to understand that people would be pointing at me and laughing and not unironically singing along. But did William?

In 2008, American Idol asked him why he thinks people gravitated toward him so much. He answered: “I believe it’s my attitude and charisma. I tell people constantly, media, everywhere I go, just never give up on your dream.”

That is such a false sense for the phenomenon.

One of my crippling hobbies is staying up way too late looking up emotional auditions for these singing contests. You know you have a problem when you eventually find yourself watching videos from Danish Idol or Papa New Guinea’s Got Talent.

But you just have to watch this and this.

If you are sitting at home, why do you want to see somebody go out and bomb? Does it make you feel better about yourself? Does it? Because this person decided to actually get off their ass and do something you wouldn’t do, you want them to do badly?

Or, like somebody who has a higher sense of consciousness like myself, do you want them to do well? Do you want their courageous act, that horrifying act of getting in front of a crowd and risking everything, to be rewarded with applause?

I have done some open mic stand-up comedy but I’ve never actually put my neck out there in contest form or in any way that would result in any actual consequence. It’s because I’m scared. It’s because I don’t want silence and I don’t want a national audience looking at me and judging me.

The world is hard enough on its own.