Does Simon even love us anymore?
Look at his face as he watched Susan Boyle, the dowdy never-been-kissed global singing sensation, onstage in "Britain's Got Talent" (about 70 million have already).
No smirk. No sneer. No boredom. He believes. He is nearly transcendent. He is not wondering why he is sitting there. He is not doing anyone a favor.
He likes "Les Miz."
Whereas we, "American Idol" nation, are like cynics in the headlights, caught midsnark, yukking it up over the blind guy, voting for the worst, clucking over our tattoo Barbie Megan Joy, choosing from a pool of people who seemed to have already formed their back story on YouTube.
We were still living for Simon Cowell's next witty takedown, the next "Idol" train wreck. Meanwhile, over in Britain, a lonely but chipper, dowdy but defiant, ordinary but extraordinary 47-year-old ("and that's just one side of me") woman, Boyle, was changing all the rules, rewriting the fairy tale.
Could it be that "American Idol," for years the zeitgeisty show of the moment, has fallen out of step, left behind like a haughty stepsister (and registering on Tuesday night its lowest ratings since 2002)? Since when did looks cease to matter? Since when did we value innocence over experience? Success over train wreck? Were we really supposed to be having a singing competition all along?
One devotee, the 191,975th commenter on a version of the video viewed 39 million times, wrote Wednesday: "I don't care what anyone else thinks. I've been listening to this every day since first heard of it. It gives me chills -- such joy on her behalf."