The 37th Annual AMAs

Every year, the American Music Awards reminds us here at One Day In Culture of some essential facts regarding American popular music that we seem to forget sometime between January and November:

A) Great performers (Jay-Z, Eminem, and especially Whitney Houston) get better with age
B) Awful performers (Adam (F)Lambert, Rhianna, Lady Gaga, and the Black Eyed Peas) will always pick the most horrible clothes - or at least their overpaid stylists will...
C) We can never remember how many children Jermaine Jackson has. However, I will now never forget Jermagesty, or Jumanji, or Jereimiahwasabullfrog...
D) And, at the AMAs, it never fails that the worst of the worst (Taylor Swift we're talking to you) will be highly rewarded. At least we have those Teen-Career-Ending 20's to look forward to (Taylor Swift's vagina, this time we're talking to you).

That being said (a big shout out to Larry David and the Curb crew for that intro), the 37th annual American Music Awards should be considered a success if for no other reason than it made this progressive-metrosexual-journalist blush on at least three separate occasions. This year's AMA's was the highest rated show since 2002, showcased not one, not two, but three legendary-comeback performances (Janet, J-Lo, and Whitney. Rhianna, we're sorry but you don't count), and a host of shameless appearances that may just set the civil rights movements of both African Americans and homosexuals back a few dozen years. Yes, most importantly, the 2009 AMA's were a highly entertaining mix of the usual attention-deprived celebrities and disheartened divas that we've come to know and love.

There is just too much to talk about for one unemployed blogger sitting at his kitchen table drinking coffee on a Monday afternoon, so we're going to have to narrow an analysis down to the bare boned essentials. By bare-boned, we do not mean Lady Gaga's ridiculous outfit, but instead mean our own little AMA awards, the ODC Golden Donkeys, given to those memorable moments that never completely leave one's brain. And now, Mr. Seacrest, the envelope please!

The Anti-Genre-Busting Award:
This award goes to Mr. American Idol, Adam Flambert, who told Entertainment Weekly's Whitney Pastorek during rehersals for Sunday night's show: "Genres are old news. Genres are a thing of the past. I don’t believe in genres." I'm sorry to say that you, Mr. Flambert are a hypocrite. Not only did his performance Sunday night — complete with mock-fellatio, pelvic thrusts, and make-out-sessions — reinforce every gay stereotype held by the religious right, it was simply a horrific display by a media-fueled wannabe whose talent has been reduced to makeup, hair gel, and homoeroticism. Perhaps the only good thing to come out of this performance was the discovery of Flambert's irrelevance. We'll see you on ABC's Dancing With the Stars. Oh, and your song? It sucks.

Runners Up: Country Music Performers Pretending to be Pop-Stars (Carrie Underwood and Keith Urban, congrats) and the Black Eyed Peas for continually referring to themselves as Hip-Hop. You're not.

The Don't-Call-It-A-Comeback Award: This is a two-way tie between Whitney Houston and Jennifer Lopez. Sure, neither of these women displayed the full-breath of talent the good lord gave them on Sunday night, but both divas made statements with their performances that included tears from some of the ODC staffers during Houston's performance and at least one areal hand pump when J-Lo asked, "Ya miss me?"

We here at ODC can't understand the backlash J-Lo's "Louboutins." She's J-Lo, why wouldn't she sing a song giving props to her favorite shoes? And what in the hell does everyone expect from America's dance-machine? The hook, "I'm throwin' on my Louboutins" will be stuck in our heads for the next month-and-a-half, she rocked her dance solo after her 40-year-old butt hit the ground, and made her way from her boxer introduction to a corset covered exit over the course of 4 minutes. It was exciting, fresh, and completely J-Lo. Quit over-expecting.

And Whitney...what can we say? We were in tears by the end of her song "I Didn't Know My Own Strength." A friend of ours said during the performance, "I just don't particularly like that she sang this song as her comeback song." We ask, "What would an international diva of Houston's proportions who lost her career to crack sing instead? 'I Will Always Love You?'" The moment was a perfect addition to television history and for that, we applaud.

Runner Up: Michael Jackson's diamond-studded glove.

The What-The-Fuck? Award: This one is gonna go to Alicia Keys, whose ally-rape choreography during her performance of "Try Sleeping with a Broken Heart" made me cringe. Yes Alicia, I know its hard to sleep with a broken heart, but try sleeping after you witness a black man dressed up like a hobo jump down off of a brick wall and attack Alicia Keys. NO ALICIA! Didn't your mom ever tell you that an alley is no place for a woman to perform?

Runners Up: Jermaine Jackson's children's names...I mean seriously, WTF? And Perez Hilton, who's ability to sing the words to "Empire State" while making me want to slap his face with Lady Gaga's balls is unprecidented. PS, whoever gave Mr. Hilton a microphone should be slapped with the rest of Gaga's manhood.

And finally, the I'm Not Buying Your BS Award goes to: Taylor Swift...your doe eyed shock at winning multiple times may be fooling 90% of the viewing audience, but not me. Deep down inside of you is a Lindsay Lohan, I just know it.