Alienation = Life

Following is a review of the single most defining moment in a trio of young men's lives. Forgive the lack of humor, as this post must devote itself entirely to the recreation of an event that, if captured accurately, could set progress ahead thousands of years.

Saturday, July 22, 2006, 1st Time Era - Patrick H, Arun A, and Me I embarked on a journey that would transform our present from one of subtle meaning to one of extreme, technicolor magnifecence. We threw caution to the wind and took our first steps towards real evolution. We knew things would be different, but we didn't realize the entire structure of society would reimagine itself upon our actions.

We attended a Kelly Clarkson concert.

Our anticipation, albeit slightly tempered by the only opening act willing to wave its own band flag around during a set (Rooney), would eventually erupt in a silent explosion.

The alienation of three grown men surrounded by a sea of 10-year olds could only remove so much wind from our sails when the lights finally went out and the show begun. Hark! What's that there on the horizon? It's the silhouette of a man playing the wooded violin. Why, he plays so melodically and beautifully. Surely no human is capable of accompanying this glorious tune. Hark forth! Another silhouette. Surely no creature of flesh and bone could approach so near the bow-gliding master. Nay! 'Tis a goddess! 'Tis Kelly Clarkson! The masses scream, whilst we three adventurers enter Utopia with the quiet respect of those who know they have reached the Promised Land.

The legend of Kelly Clarkson is a well-travelled one. Forced to endure the scum pit that is Fox reality television, Kelly Clarkson was the first and only person to emerge from the process with some shine of sincerity and personality remaining. Having done so, she ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the father. All others who attempt to approach this city of God must (ahem) walk away, and still more must face the curse of horrible plagues - gay rumors, fat jokes, country singing, incredibly annoying soulless gray hair Dodge commercial singing. Meanwhile, Kelly's once-rival Justin Guarini mines the fires of Hell. And seriously, what was with his hair?

Returning to Kelly's most recent visit to Earth, she blessed the crowd with a blood-bubbling rendition of "Behind these Hazel Eyes." Patrick H feinted, almost cracking his head on a cement corner of the amphitheater. Yet just as his skull was about to meet its ultimate moment of cohesion, Kelly ordered salvation, cautiously lifting Pat into an upright position with a collection of slow songs via the power of 3/4 legato.

Showing that she still sympathized with humanity, Kelly performed a piece for New Orleans in front of a set shaped to resemble the swampy bayou. The mood was, for the moment, calm and relaxed, lulling many lesser fans into their seats. Yet these same seats were soon forgotten when a wolf appeared in the upper branches of one of the moss-covered trees on set! What was this beast doing in the midst of Kelly's vocal charity? Would he ruin everything for everyone forever? GASP! He would! The wolf jumped on Kelly and in one bestial swoop swallowed her whole.

Mothers consoled their young. Nuns tended to the sick. A city fell quiet.

Hark hark hark! The wolf began to convulse. Indeed, Texas fatty would not be on its menu tonight nor ever again as Kelly cut her way out of the wolf's belly with a shining sword. The glint of the blade revealed a sexy new outfit as well, which was soon stripped to reveal the old outfit once again.

The city rebirthed! Textile prices boomed! Keeping wolves as pets was banned! And Kelly sang! Oh, did she sing! Song after song immersed the crowd in a euphoria that was 1-part euphoria, 2-parts megaeuphoria. Alchemists have since attempted to duplicate the sensation with hallucinogenic compositions of all flavors, but all have failed, and all have been put to death.

And then it ended. Kelly left the stage by (ahem) walking away (ahem ahem). We were sad it was over, but we knew the goddess gave us what we deserved. She knew what was best for us, just as Scott Baio knew what was best for those girls on Charles in Charge, just as I know that inane television references are best for this blog. Pat, Arun, and I started to roll up our tongues, tuck our eyes back into their sockets, and collect the loose change we'd lost in jumping.

!!!!##!$#$#%#$@#$#$!@#!#@@@##@

Oh. My. Gosh.

She reapparated, literally thirty feet away from our second tier seating. She stood amongst the commoners, far away from her pillar of stage, and waved at us as if she were one of we! Despite the spotlight in her face, I swear she caught my loving stare, for into my heart flew this mantra: "Alientation is Life."

She was right, as she is always right. We twenty-something college graduates felt a bit out of place when we entered the arena that night. We weren't sure we belonged in this particular crowd of believers. And we didn't. But because of that, and because of a brilliant performance by the greatest pop star in generations, we never felt more alive.

Rest in Peace: Past.
Live in Brilliant, Kelly-Induced Chaos: Future.

Shangri-La.