So it turns out that the time has come for me to write a breakup ballad.
I stood up for you when other people criticized you for your seemingly clueless remark at the Anne Frank House. (I agreed with Cathleen Falsani when she pointed out that you were just a teenage boy at the time, and besides, it was impressive that you took time out of your European vacation to visit a poignant, entirely un-shallow historic site like the Anne Frank House in the first place. What teenage rock star does that?)
I stood up for you when you retired, and then didn’t retire, and then were bizarrely coy about the whole retirement thing.
And I stood up for you when cynical people my age sneered at your hair, your music, your persona, your faith.
Today the statute of limitations on my patience officially expired. As the parent of a teenage girl who actually looks up to you and plays your music in my car, I want you to know I won’t be standing up for you anymore.
Drag-racing, drunk, without a license, through a residential neighborhood at more than twice the speed limit? Resisting arrest? Is this the same Bieber who not that long ago told GQ,
“For me, it’s just like, I like to be in control of myself. I mean, I’ve had a beer, like, before…. But I never get out of control.”
Don’t get out of control?
Honey, I think the Good Ship Control has left the dock and you were not aboard.
But judging from the blithe smile on your face in your mug shot, the moral severity of this situation has escaped you. Nor has it sunk it with some of your fans, for whom the #FreeJustinBieber hashtag apparently indicates they think you should be above the law.
As David Qaoud rightly tweeted this afternoon,
Justin, if you want to get drunk, do it in your own mansion with your sports car safely in the multibay garage. Do not mess with the precious lives of innocent people. Learn from this and come out a better person for it; not everybody gets a second chance.