Ah, the Miss America pageant–that special event that each year draws millions of Americans to their televisions to witness hokey beauty queens with perma-grins prancing around in bikinis and five-inch stilettos. This is family-friendly programming, folks.

The notion of beauty pageants in general has long been an affront to my feminist sensibilities, for what I presume to be the pretty standard reasons–the objectification of women that they entail, their pandering to the lowest common denominator of the American public…and good god, they’re cheesy.

That said, there is a certain perverse pleasure to be derived from witnessing the spectacle that is the Miss America pageant. It’s pretty entertaining, and the sheer ridiculousness of the whole affair makes it good for a laugh–plus, Tony Danza was hosting this year. This is why I skipped SYR last Saturday night and instead stayed in with a like-minded friend for what was to be an evening of giggles at the beauty queens’ expense.

What I witnessed was pretty frightening. Sure, it was funny. But at this political moment, in the wake of the recent national tragedy, the Miss America pageant became of forum for declarations of America’s military prowess and the kind of patriotism that smacks of nationalism. I was struck by the incredibly political nature of the pageant, a nuance that I never before considered in that context.

It brought home the fact that not everybody considers these girls, who have spent their entire lives competing in pageants, to be tragically pathetic; to most Americans, they represent the best of what America has to offer. Scared yet? Read on.

The show opened with Tony "Micelli" Danza giving a schpiel on why he’s proud to be an American. He gushed on about what a privilege it had been to spend the last week in the company of such amazing young women. Tony concluded by announcing that he wanted to say something that he does not feel is said often enough, and then proceeded to lead the audience in the Pledge of Allegiance.

Then, the contestants were introduced. Each one introduced herself and gave a fact, ostensibly of her own choosing, about her home state. I’d estimate that about a quarter of those facts were defense-related, e.g. "home of the such-and-such naval base," etc. Other gems included "Kansas, proud to be the geographic center of the United States!", "Nebraska, birthplace of Vice President Dick Cheney!" and "Texas, proud to be the home state of President George W. Bush!" Texas got a lot of applause.

This year’s contest was spiced up by the introduction of some new components to the pageant. One of the new procedures is that as contestants are eliminated after each segment, they get to act collectively as an eighth judge, rating their better-faring peers.

Before commercial breaks, the reigning Miss America would report from the "jury room" (where, interestingly, the eliminated contestants continued to change outfits throughout the show). The reigning Miss America is unfortunately named Angela, so each time Tony announced that it was time to hear from the jury room, he’d call, "hey An-ge-luh!" all "Who’s The Boss?" style. It was a sad reminder of what a has-been he has become.

The evening wear and swimsuit segments followed the contestants’ introductions; 51 were reduced to twenty and then to ten. Then it got really crazy, starting with the talent competition. In what should have won her the pageant, Miss District of Columbia performed an "athletic dance" (I’m told that this is an Olympic sport, and I’m incredulous) with a baton, to a pepped-up rendition of "I Will Survive."

I don’t know that there are words sufficient to describe the absurdity of her performance, but her audacity alone was enough to win my support. (She didn’t win). Miss Massachusetts and Miss Oregon sang opera (poorly), Miss Tennessee played the piano, Miss Michigan clogged, and the others were not memorable. Following the talent competition, ten contestants went down to five: Miss Oregon, Miss Massachusetts, Miss Tennessee, Miss New York, and Miss District of Columbia.

At this juncture in the evening, Tony Danza performed a song-and-dance number. Who knew that America’s favorite male housekeeper could tap dance?An unimpressive question-and-answer session ensued and was followed by my favorite new component of the pageant: the quiz segment. Picture five beauty queens standing behind Jeopardy!-style podiums and…yeah, that’s exactly what it was.

The ladies were given ten multiple-choice questions dealing with American history, government, and current events. Nobody got more than six right, and given the difficulty of the questions (or rather, the lack thereof) this was not only pathetic but immensely amusing.

A sample question: Which U.S. monument bears the inscription, "Give us your poor, your tired, your huddled masses"? a) The Statue of Liberty, b) Mount Rushmore, or c) the Washington Monument? If memory serves, three of the five remaining contestants were ably to conquer that toughie.

Finally, after two-and-a-half hours, it was time to crown Miss America 2002. Sorry to spoil the surprise if anyone taped it for later viewing, but Miss Oregon won. She cried. The other girls shrieked and crowded around her. Tony Danza sang "There she is…Miss Amerrrricaaaa…" and her crown almost fell off.

It was both satisfying and anti-climactic; satisfying because the pageant was finally over, and anti-climactic because pageants in general are stupid and so it really made no difference to me who took home the crown.

It is mind-blowing to me that beauty pageants are still a part of American culture. After the pageant ended, my friend and I agreed that a mock-umentry of Miss America couldn’t really be much more ridiculous than the real thing, which, if you really think about it, is truly sad because these girls’ lives are centered upon competing in these absurd contests.

When all is said and done, though, watching the Miss America is a feel-good activity–i.e., I felt good because my time is spent in more important pursuits, like keg parties.