I know, I know ... what do you need me for? You have united the nations with millions of Beliebers ready to do your biebing. But what happens when they all become teenagers and discover anger? Then they become Cracked readers. I can keep them sweet on you. Let me be your John the Anti-Baptist and preach your tempestuous glory, right here and now.

Give me a chance, and we can turn your worldwide fan base into a cult of the Fallen One that shakes the Earth for a thousand years. Don't belieb me? The evidence is in 2012's five most unsettling Twitter trends that mention you.

So this "inside and out" malarkey is just the initial stage, where adoring fans pour goodness into a celebrity-shaped vase. It builds an artificial intimacy in the true believer's heart by hiding the real person behind an idealized version. This kind of fallacy wounds both parties. You know, like when you're fantasizing that the person you're having sex with is Adrianne Curry and then your erection withers because you'll never be good enough for her?

But hey, young people, don't ever let anyone shame you for the things you like. (Unless it's Hitler. Is it Hitler? For crying out loud! Why would you pick Hitler?) Just remember that your faith should also be strong enough to question the things you most want to believe. Otherwise you'll find yourself saying yes to statements you know aren't true. For example, it's simply wrong to say that Justin's tears can cure viral infections when they merely cure bacterial ones. And though we all accept his netherworldly power, let's not pretend "Boyfriend" is a very good song. It's all hook and no bait.

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Unlike this picture, which is all 'bate.

Can This Hashtag Propel Bieber to Godhood?

Of course! Every devout group is united by its core values, whether it's a corporation, a sports team, or a nightclub down on Woviotis Street catering to a very specific fetish that only lets you in if you know that the password is "herringbone umbrella lick." (Be sure to bring your own catcher's mask.)

Core values are closely guarded. Members who challenge them are corrected or exiled for the sanctity of the group. In this case, the central value is your greatness as a musician, person, and architect of The End.

Twitter
In my day, "Canadian musician" meant some really bad VH-1, not this "Dear Leader" bullshit.

In the normal course of things, sir, your fans will grow up and realize that they're projecting an unrealistic fantasy onto you that doesn't acknowledge the real human being behind it (or in our case, the rough, slouching beasts wearing meatsuits to hide our many heads behind it). Any fan who fails to make this transition after a certain age becomes ... unnerving. EXCEPTION: If the idol is Ms. Curry, because that rule doesn't apply to anyone so perfect that we're not worthy to lick her toenail clippings up off the floor.

Alberto E. Rodriguez/Getty Images Ent./Getty
Or possibly anyone who looks like the Baroness, I'm not sure what my criterion is here.

My Hadean master, we must trap them in this emotional bedrock until they're old enough to enlist in your Legion of Nine Devils. That's why I'm recommending that you start preaching abstinence until marriage. Not only will it protect them from coming of age in a real relationship until well into their 20s, but it will fool the religious right into condoning our glorious deviltry a little longer.

Can This Hashtag Propel Bieber to Godhood?

Veneration of the progenitor is a fixture of almost every messianic faith. Apollo and Hercules have Zeus. Jesus has Mary. Adrianne Curry has Odin Curry, who created her when he made love to the first sunrise of summer.

The cult is now in place to catapult the Canadian One to Beastdom. Not a moment too soon! When you're wishing happy birthday to someone you haven't met because they're close to someone else you haven't met, you're either a clown who gets paid in smiles or Adrianne Curry answering prayers.

Alberto E. Rodriguez/Getty Images Ent./Getty
My dad thanks you for the cake, Ms. Curry, but you and I both know that I must love you from afar. Just ... just promise you'll sniff this scented handkerchief whenever the west wind murmurs my name to you.

Their intense adoration is doomed because reality is never perfect. The first time one of them sneaks onto the tour bus and hides in the bathroom, they'll realize that even Light's poop stinks. Then they'll feel betrayed. Betrayed ... TO DEATH.

Can This Hashtag Propel Bieber to Godhood?

How to preserve this perfect state of unquestioning loyalty? Revelation tells us that the followers of the Beast will be marked on their head or their hand to show their allegiance. Only the firmest Beliebers would mark their flesh for you with a tattoo. You have to be 18 for that, and if they're still projecting the dreams they had as tweens onto a pop star when they're legally adults, they were going to miss all the cool parts of college anyway.

Getting a tattoo is a psychological commitment. With a permanent mark on their skin, they'll only be able to accept one reality -- and it's the one where they can only see the world via your reflection. That's why, my great foul master, you must demand that they mark themselves in devotion to you. Then they can easily identify each other and shun any dealings with non-Beliebers. Consolidation + Isolation = DOMINATION.

Mike Coppola/Getty Images Ent./Getty Images
I recommend rich symbolism that commands followers to "Believe" and has a trafe animal for a familiar.

Maybe It's Just Zealous Fans:

You know that bit in The Crush when Alicia Silverstone flips out and destroys Cary Elwes' home? Me neither. Nobody saw The Crush. But if they had, your fans would recognize that it's make or break time -- they either admit that they were a little overexcited or they plunk down every last one of your mental chips and tell the croupier to put it all on crazy. I say go ahead and do the latter, Beliebers! You've already boiled the bunny; might as well pluck the meat from its bones.

P.S. Cary Elwes, you scamp! You have not aged a day since 1993!

Can This Hashtag Propel Bieber to Godhood?

We'll use their redoubled affection to ratchet up your legend. Hear me, O pathetic mortals! You must live for Bieber! Die for Bieber! Bieber is the dark revelation! Bieber is your soul's aching secret! When you wake up in a wet spot with tears still stinging your eyes, it is BIEBER's disappointed face acid-etched onto your retinas! Let us speak in one trembling voice: Bieber is all! Bieber is the omega! Bieber is! Bieber Is! Bieber! Is! BIEBER! IS!

Frazer Harrison/Getty Images Ent./Getty Images
And what good is a savior without an agent provocateur?

Can This Hashtag Propel Bieber to Godhood?

Don't worry if Twitter's trying to kill you, Jay-Jay Biebray-bray. The Bible tells us that the Beast will suffer a fatal wound, but it won't kill him right away. Whether it's Neo or Aslan, every messiah -- even a false one -- must be sacrificed to attain his full powers. It would be rude not to. In fact -- these Curry jokes. I love them, but they have to go.

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It is survived by my uninformed lust.

It's one thing to destroy that which you love. It's quite another to claim that its death saved you. For some reason, people really appreciate your suffering the penalties of their screw-ups for them.

But death is not the end. Like any respectable deity, the myth of the Boy King renews itself. Like the snake shedding its skin, the light-bringer of pop music will return with a new haircut. We are told that the Beast "once was, now is not, and yet will come."

Ryland Sanders, Church Sign Maker
So plainly, there's a precedent.

In conclusion: A non-Belieber would no doubt say that you aren't the Beast, m'lord, and that you seem like nothing more than a nice young man who makes tolerably bland music. And that objective critic would then be slapped to death by offended Beliebers. But with his last breath, he'd manage to croak, "If you're standing next to Usher and he's the second-least-substantial musician in the video, it's time to bite the head off a bat."

Yeah, that's what an impartial observer would declare. But those of us who have accepted Bieber into our hearts know a deeper truth, inviolable to facts. Therefore the time has come to leave our computers and be with him.

Join me, then, in a toast! Everyone grab a cup of that Kool-Aid there ... great. To celebrities: filling our lives with theirs like a retrovirus overwriting host cells! In the next world, may we all have such good marketing. Why, with the right sales pitch, you could make anyone look like anything: the ideal boyfriend, the perfect woman, even the Beast himself, if that's what you're expecting to see. Perhaps ... hm.

Perhaps I was wrong?

And -- and perhaps ... famous people are a scant canvas onto which we project our desires? And if so, perhaps our increasingly celebrity-obsessed culture is our increasingly self-obsessed culture. And if that's true, then ... why ... the Beast ...

THE BEAST IS US.

Eh. Why turn back now? *glug*

Oh, and Biebs? When your dark powers manifest, maybe you could use them to land me a date with Adr-gaaack *Thud*

Brendan spends his days drawing Watchmen Hostess pie ad parodies. You don't have to be Adrianne Curry to flirt with him, but it's going to make all his Twitter-sexting really awkward if you are.

Brendan previously exploded your theological expectations with 5 Reasons the Rapture Did Not Occur.