The Gospel of Kenny
(for true disciples of Michael)
(for everyone else)
In the Year of the Gloved One 50, which was also called in the old calendar 2009, the people of the town of London came unto Michael with much wailing and despair. “Michael!” they beseeched Him. “Bestow upon us Your awesomeness. Bestow upon us the wisdom of Your spirit, and telleth us once again how Billie Jean is not Your lover and the kid is not Your son, for we long to be reassured. Giveth unto us 50 shows, one for each year of Your beneficence.”
And Michael heard their pleas, and thought them good, and with the multitudes of lawyers and agents and publicists and other devotees at His side did sign the contracts that would make it so.
And Michael came to this humble servant, and said, “Kenny Ortega, you have given unto the world the 2002 Winter Olympics Opening Ceremony and the glory that is High School Musical. You will make a Show with Me that will bringeth tears of joy to the people, and will showeth them that the spectacles of 3D and CGI can be encorporatedeth into a stage performance, and will beat it, beat it good.” And Michael, in His all-knowingness, knew that it would be His last of shows, and that the tears of joy would also be tears of grief, and this He declared for all his followers to know. And Michael, in his all-lovingness, did stay silent on the taking from us of His presence that was to come, lest He aggrieve us before the time was upon us.
And did the nameless supplicants flyeth in from around the world, 5,000 in number, from such distant realms as Australia, and without 21-day advance airline purchases, such was the overwhelmingness of their love for Michael. And did they weep tears of joy to beith in the presence of Michael, and did they dance their supple young bodies in His sight, expressing their ecstasy, and were they all but 11 of them turnethed away from His company, and returned broken into the Michael-less void. And did the 11 become His final disciples of dance.
And did the makers of music praise Michael for His generosity in sharing His songs with they who were not worthy to play them yet must play them still, and for His knowledge of His own songs, and for His ability to hear music that no one else could hear, such was His magnificence. And did they worship Him for having guided them since childhood toward the raising of their voices in euphoric song and the raising of their guitar licks in blissful noise. And did they become His final disciples of music.
And many were the cameras present to record the creative process, and His patience, and His love, and His faith, even when the disciples did screweth up. And always, Michael soothed them, “This is why we have rehearsals.” And His words had a calming effect on them, and they loved Him all the more.
And all the many whiles did Michael sayeth only to this humble servant, “This will be good for the DVD” or “This will be a wicked cool making-of featurette” or “Long have the people yearned to understand the choreography of the crotch grab, and now they will know it good.” And never did He sayeth, “You will assemble this footage one day into the final great Praising of me,” for so all-encompassing was His love that He did not wish to cause sorrow amidst the jubilation of hip grinding and choreographed gang rumbles and sound checks, or amidst the uncomfortable invoking of the 1970s-era Jackson 5, which we pretendethed was joyful and not kinda creepy in how it remindeth us of what a cute little munchkin Michael was in his youth.
But lo the great and secret burden Michael bore for us all did come to pass, and He passed from among us. And how this humble servant did wail, and how this humble servant did weep, until this humble servant rememberethed the 80 hours of footage at his fingertips.
Beholdeth the real Michael! Beholdeth how Michael takes the suffering of the world onto Himself, and how He worrieth about the children and the butterflies and the monkeys and the trees, and how He standeth before the Bulldozer of Destruction! Seeth thou how strong Michael was in His last days, and forgeteth thou the unpleasant autopsy and toxicology reports. Seeth how Michael was a man and yet not a man, a man and yet a seraph of spirit and light and moonwalking. Seeth how He was beyond mortality, and shall liveth forever.
Here endeth the Gospel of Kenny.