Justin Bieber: He Got a Metal Reaction

Posted: November 2, 2013 in Uncategorized
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What teen idol descends from the stratosphere, inspiring on the order of 1,000 Brazilian teenage girls to amass before the Copacabana Palace Hotel in Rio de Janeiro, chanting and shrieking in pants-peeing unison at the very top decibels of their hormonal lungs? Justin Bieber, who arrived today for a weekend’s worth of gigs at the municipal Praca da Apoteose, which I believe means “Enormo-Dome” in English. On the way to Laranjeiras this evening, my taxi driver – in the middle of chronicling to me every sordid detail of his recent vasectomy – asked me if I’d like to see Bieber at his hotel. Naturally I assumed he was joking, until he plowed up to the hotel, dumping me front and center and – I swear this as I live and breathe – there stood The Phenom himself on the balcony of his 10th floor suite, blowing kisses and gesticulating broadly to all us gawkers huddled below. And with his every kiss blown, so in direct proportion rose skyward the screams, punctuated with outstretched arms capped by sweaty jazz fingers, which trembled with baby-making frenzy as they tickled the summery night air at the Copacabana Palace.

Update one day later:

I went to a barbecue with a local friend, to the satellite city of Niteroi on Rio de Janeiro’s outskirts. Once there I found myself making the acquaintance of a foursome of beer-swilling brasileiros who were deadly serious about two things and two things alone: metal and child-rearing. And as your modest servidor bespake them, these men fumbling about for their rugrats while toe-tapping the blast beats to Morbid Angel’s “Chapel of Ghouls” as it blared from someone’s iPod, a pair of urgent items was imparted to me. First, that the Black Sabbath/Megadeth concert two weeks ago was amazing. As well it should have been, given the $150 booty even nosebleed seats fetched. And second, the Justin Bieber faithful had already besieged the venue a fortnight prior, anticipating the coming of their mop-topped messiah. Hence the line of Black Sabbath fans entering the Praca da Apoteose was forced to snake around a refugee camp of Beliebers, a meeting of two worlds not dissimilar to Marco Polo and the Chinese coming face-to-face all those centuries ago.


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