MANILA, Philippines - Have you ever faced an army of Beliebers? It’s surreal.
Imagine being surrounded by a rowdy gang of eight to twelve-year-olds armed with his merchandise while chanting his name. They know all his songs by heart, and they’ll burst into song with the slightest provocation. These kids were bitten by a bad case of Biebermania — a viral malady I once thought would never reach our shores. The side effects were one thing, but nothing had ever prepared me for the ear-splitting shrieks they let out as his movie, Never Say Never, premiered.
Justin Bieber or “the Biebs,” as I’d like to call him, is a phenomenon. This five-foot-six Canadian went from being a nobody to a tween icon faster than anyone could say “Charice.” His rise to fame isn’t novel by any means. He was discovered where most pop stars today are discovered, on YouTube. He has it all: those big doe eyes, the innocent smile, and the overall charisma that make even grown women want to take him home and cuddle him, but most importantly though, the Biebs has talent. I kid you not.
Uttering that statement is dangerous, especially now that his haters are coming out of the woodwork to attack every Belieber in sight (on the Internet, of course). I should know, since I was one of them. But something had changed my mind. Could I have possibly been infected by the Biebermania, too?
In truth, it was the movie’s doing. I was prepared to rip him to shreds even before I sat my tush down on the cinema chair. I guess that’s the interesting thing about impressions, they can still change, if you let them. At the start of the film, the Beliebers could sniff the unbelief on me, but as the credits rolled, I was one of them.
I once wrote the Biebs off as the Aaron Carter of this generation. Remember him and his seminal hit Crush on You? His star quickly fell once he went past puberty, the end of the lifespan of a tween sensation. The Biebs is now 17, but it doesn’t seem like he’ll be slowing down any time soon. If he keeps it up, surrounds himself with good people, starts doing more original stuff, and steers clear of the Chris Brown track, he might very well be on his way to being Michael Jackson. It’s blasphemy, I know. Yet if ever he does reach that status, let it be remembered that I said it first.
The Biebs’ success proves that all you need is the right exposure. Hence, we move to Rebecca Black.
If the name still escapes you, you’ve been left by the bandwagon, which had already started rolling mid-February. Her YouTube masterpiece, Friday, has since spawned countless memes, parodies, remixes, and a strong Twitter trend that has so far outlasted the Japan nuclear crisis and the Libyan protests.
There’s no point in sugarcoating it. The video and the song are horrible. There’s also no point in beating it with a bat. The Internet already had a hand in its murder.
The Internet is powerful, you see? It has now become a court where aspiring artists are tried and burned at the stake. Rebecca Black is just one of those casualties. She’s only 13. Does she deserve it? It’s not her fault she’s singing about “partyin’, partyin’” or having “fun, fun, fun” on a Friday. How much experience could she possibly have and sing about? God forbid people flock to watch Jenna Rose’s My Jeans.
At the end of the day, they’re just a part of a teen idol factory, dreaming awake, doing what they’re told regardless if they’re talented or not. Don’t hate on the kids. It’s the system.