The Judges.

Paul Pollei (chair): Without a doubt, the most idiotic bonehead to ever be allowed to touch a keyboard - it is my sneaking premonition that this absolute joke of a musician received his music degree by sending in a free voucher from the bottom of a Frosted Flakes box. Picture him: overweight Mormon from Utah wearing 5-dollar K-mart cologne, perpetually wet-dreaming about molesting unsuspecting contestants who will buy his crock of shit.

Alan Walker (writer): To my surprise, the most musical and educated on the entire jury. True, you always have to be wary about a man who spends 25 years researching the life of another man, albeit combined with his heavy Northern English accent and direct demeanor for both praise and criticism, he surprises me with his intellect.

Nelita True (pianist): Points for studying with my idol, Claude Frank. Needs a bit of work on wardrobe choice, since the mono-color full body outfit was in style only to worshipers of Jackie Kennedy and the artist formerly known as Prince. She, however, is truly a pianist's pianist, and her ideas seem to reflect this in style.

Pavlina Dukovska (pianist): Overly analytical Bulgarian woman - I suspect she probably douses Ritalin, Prozac, just-add-water scrambled eggs, and 2-day-old pizza into a blender every morning to achieve her overbearing energy. Great musician, if not a bit melodramatic; we spent 35 minutes together trying to make four measures more "special". Heh.

Kemal Gekic (pianist): Haha. This guy cracks me up. Maybe I'm not too keen on the cultural boundaries of style and professionalism in Croatia. This guy strikes me as a man who stylistically emulates (or attempts to) Fabio (in the I-can't-believe-it's-not-butter phase), Don Corleone from The Godfather, and some mild mannered stereotypical professor that walks around with a coat around his body without putting his arms through the armholes - purely for the distinguished 'look' of it.

Logan Skelton (musicological pianist): Sigh. Depressing. The quintessential failure; the man we all try NOT to end up like. Overly impressed with inconsequential musical ideas he "discovers", this a man who yearns to be heard. Living life through his students, this is the guy to fear in the same way a corporate employee does about the disgruntled worker next to him ready to go postal with a Tek-9 and AK-47.

Jorge Luis Prats (cuban pianist): Definitely the happiest man on the jury. Good thing? Sure. With the obese look of a mafia boss, endlessly chain smoking Marlboro Reds, and consistently cussing at the grass for making too much noise while it grows, this guy thinks he knows it ALL. Literally. So utterly convinced by every idea he possesses, this man epitomizes the true concert pianist. The anti-renaissance man. Guaranteed to make you laugh.

I've never seen such a funny jury in my life. Sad that the three judges I truly respect as pianists and musicians did not pass me. The three boneheaded idiots and the one non-pianist writer however, seemed to love it - and passed me with no question. What does this say about my playing?