orget Alicia Keys. This year's Grammys belongs to God. From the opening moments -- U2's "Hallelujah" rendition of "Walk On" -- to the gospel finale, introduced by Michael W. Smith. Michael W. Smith! Do you know who that is?
Well, if you didn't, you wouldn't be alone. "Here's Michael K. Smith!" Jon Stewart said. "I mean, Michael W. Smith!" And then, turning to Smith, "Sorry, man."
Throughout the 80s and 90s, Michael W. Smith was like THE Christian pop poster boy. I mean he is tremendously huge, and he sang songs like "Friends" and some other shit I can't remember, duets with Amy Grant, that kind of stuff. And now here he is, in the final moments of the Grammys, blond and blue-eyed and in his Sunday best, introducing this powerhouse gospel lineup including Al Green and Bryan McKnight and, later, sneaking onstage to perform with them. Michael W. Smith! I mean, Jesus Christ!
And this is right after Alan Jackson performs his hit song "Where Were You?" which he wrote about September 11, the last lines of which quote that Corinthians passage about love, and after I read in Rolling Stone that Alan Jackson has the number one album in the country (knocking out Creed, a Christian band), and this is after Jon Stewart -- and I love the Jon Stewart -- but this is after Jon Stewart introduces Jackson by calling him "the most authentic singer-songwriter of our time." Of our time, Jon? Of our time!?!
And it was enough to make me miss Marilyn Manson, that creepy bastard, because all I could think, as I turned off the TV, was this: That's it. Prayers coming back into public schools.