4. Dalton Rapattoni

Much like that last paragraph, Dalton is bipolar! It’s no surprise; it’s just so unlike Idol not to have milked it. The judges’ insistence that this blue-eyed hair-monster “Daltonize” every song is patently absurd, as if billions of other contestants haven’t been way better at rearranging tunes to their own liking. His voice is just not that great, and that’s hard to escape in what is technically still a singing competition. I played right into the producers’ games and developed a soft spot for Mr. Guyliner after the round two package about his bipolar diagnosis at the tender age of 9, specifically the part about getting a guitar for Christmas and finally having something to love instead of living exclusively in a world of pain. Suddenly, for at least a solid minute, Dalton was a poetic genius, as if he’d composed Simon and Garfunkel’s “The Sound of Silence” himself. He was a neon god we’d created in our minds, a vision softly creeping through our restless dream that American Idol was still on television. But then he plopped down cross-legged on stage at the end and totally killed the vibe. Just like Idol. For a few seconds, at least, I liked him. Also, I’m pretty sure his grandma almost declared Dalton “America’s Next…Top Model” before she caught herself and said “Idol” in his hometown package, and that sits very well with me.

3. MacKenzie Bourg

In round one (songs picked by fans, a.k.a. dummy Twitter accounts so production could reuse previously licensed tracks), MacKenzie bopped convincingly through the crowd on Cat Stevens’ “Wild World,” and it was pleasant but kind of ugh, high school. But THEN we learned that he ALMOST DIED junior year from a rare heart virus that required a transplant. Music inspired the former basketball star to dig out of a funk and fully heal. “Being so close to dying was the best thing that could have happened to me.” It looks so wrong on the screen, but it felt so right out loud! As the string bean guitar hero launched into a stripped-down acoustic version of Michael Jackson’s “Billie Jean,” I recoiled a bit. Would he measure up to David Cook? And more importantly: Would I really still be loving the hell out of this if I hadn’t just been made aware of his congestive heart failure?! Agh! But I can’t question it. It’s okay. I like this nerd a lot more now, and that’s not the end of the wild world, not even close.