Did you read that title twice just to make sure you read it right? I know I did when I saw it in the wee hours of this morning. “There’s no way that Justin Bieber really let himself be carried up The Great Wall of China when he has two working legs,” I said to myself as I rubbed sleep away from my eyes, “they must mean he carried his bodyguards up that wall, as some kind of macho feat of strength. Lemme reread this and get it straight.”
But alas, no. Justin Bieber, a fully abled 19-year-old, really did let two grown men hoist him up on their shoulders and carry him up. And not even piggyback style — which I want on the record as still being inexcusable — but Boy King style. As in they didn’t appear to be carrying him because he was tired or weak or struggling to walk in his comically saggy pants, but because he’s royalty whose feet are far too good to be caught walking on the same stones as commoners.
“Pick me up!” he probably commanded his bodyguards as tourists swirled around them, “I said pick me up dickheads! Are you deaf? Do you have doodie stuck in your ear hole things! PICK ME UP DOG BREATH!”
I don’t want to go all Dr. Frankenstein on you guys, but I think we’ve created a monster. All of us. We’ve let him go on like this for far too long and I fear that there’s no stopping him now. Once a grown adult asks fellow grown adults to carry him up stairs, it’s too late to get him help. Next he’ll be demanding warm milk in a bottle at the edge of the Sphinx and crying over his missing pacifier on the trip to the Grand Canyon and requiring his diapers be changed on the lawn of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. On behalf of the whole world, I’m scared.