UPDATE: Thoughts from Chilson and more pictures after the jump.
The sound created by 13,896 little girls calling out to their teen idol is what you'd expect to hear from passengers on a sinking ship, a shriek so piercing that my eyes literally winced closed. A fellow photographer and I simultaneously mouthed the words "holy crap" to each other as the lights began to dim.
The mania surrounding Justin Bieber is lost on me. Just like my little sister's manic adoration of Shaun Cassidy was lost on me in 1977. But then as now, I know it isn't meant for me to understand or enjoy. Forty-six-year-old men are well outside Bieber's demographic. His songs are pop-y and well produced; there are plenty of dancers and he's got the requisite teen-dream haircut. He's not to my taste, but how can an arena full of loyal screaming fans be wrong?