Measure of a Man

I wrote a number of articles for The Collegian, and I found them whilst googling myself (don't judge me). I decided to try and spruce them up a bit, and post them on here. So enjoy.

What exactly is it that measures a man? Would he walk on water? Would he run through fire? Or would he have spikey hair, and little cute mouse ears? I think he would. It takes a lot to turn this pop culture-hating girl into a swooning sing-a-longer. What could possibly turn me into a quivering 13-year-old again? Nothing but the angelic voice of the American Idol runner-up, Clay Aiken.

When people go through my iPod, they often find great musical variety equal to that of a musical genius (or maybe even a god). One might come across a Pink Floyd album or two, all of Muse’s ultimate god-like-ness, Eliot Smith, Eminem, Ours, and Radiohead. People are often confused when they run across Clay Aiken’s Measure of a Man staring them straight in the face. “But, Jo Anna... Clay Aiken sucks. Why would you put him in here with all of this greatness?”

“Silence!” I tell them while shoving my hand straight into their face. Clay Aiken is an amazing talent with a magnificent voice that could make your own mother divorce your father and fall to his whim.

So what is it exactly that drew me to the dark side? Well, I guess you could first and foremost blame television, and FOX's wholesome programming. American Idol took the most talented (and untalented) youth of America, and plastered them onto my screen for me to cheer for (and laugh at). This was a reality television show that would kick off or ultimately kill their career. The second season of the show was when I fell in love with Clay and his homoness. The finale was a heated competition, and Clay Aiken was robbed of the American Idol title by Ruben "I'm a fat ass" Studdard.

I was furious, devastated even. How could Ruben be victorious over the amazing voice of Clay? He was to fat and to black for America to love. I think that the competition was rigged, and I'm still waiting in the wings for an Asian to win American Idol in order to support my race influenced theory. But the joke is on Ruben Studdard now! Clay Aiken has sold millions of records, and has every womanin their 40s grabbing at his sexy lanky body. When he sings “The Way” at his concerts granny panties form a pile at his feet. Hey Studdard, what have you done lately? Nothing! I hate you!

Once Clay came out with the single “Invisible,” I didn’t care how creepy the words “...if I were invisible, I could just watch you in your room,” sounded on the radio. His hypnotic voice sent me right to the record store to pick up Measure of a Man, and I’ve been cooing to it ever since.

I will continue to be moved by such awesome songs like “No More Sad Songs,” “This is the Night” and “I Survived You.” No matter what you think, Clay will always have a place in my heart, regardless of how much of a guilty pleasure he is.

But yes, I think he's a fag.