Warbling foetus

There's somthing immensely creepy about Justin Bieber, the latest musical hot potato to stare at us from MTV with eyes like gooey dinner-plates, warbling 'baby, baby baby, ooh'. I'm not sure what proves most upsetting. The haircut, like a tea-cosy missing a bobble. Possibly it's the jacket with sleeves hitched up his forearms in doubtless homage to Cutting Crew. Or maybe it's the shuffly dancing he's taught every chatshow host into whose lair he has inadvertantly shuffled, dancing that looks like Skat the Cat in Paula Abdul's 'Opposites Attract' video channeling the spirit of Michael Jackson.

No, I'm not going to say anything about MJ's spirit entering a young boy. That would be wrong. Shame on you.

Actually, I do know what it is. It's the advertisment for his little album (I don't know why I feel the urge to refer to it as his 'little album', I just do. Maybe I'd ruffle his hair if he was within ruffling range. I'd wash my hands afterwards, obviously. I'm not an animal.) where we are informed that we should "get Bieber fever!". Bieber fever. Bieber fever sounds like something you would inoculate a child against, not something you should actively encourage.

So that's why I think he's creepy. He's the aural equivalent of whooping cough.