Neil Diamond.

That’s all, really. If that doesn’t say anything to you, then you’re a likely candidate for any and all future jury sequestrations and Biosphere projects.

For any lingering souls, Diamond might mean a whole lot of things, ranging from hardcore dreck pop of the 1960s to a masterful songwriter and dynamic performer, or to a few souls, God. But to all, he means the man appearing Dec. 19 at Hilton Coliseum in the middle of what is likely to be an otherwise dreary finals week.

The name is legendary. It would be legendary even if Diamond had never recorded an album, simply because that man was born with a show business name greater than all others. It sounds so flashy, so sparkly, so bizarrely made up. But sure enough, it’s legitimate. He was born with the name Neil Diamond, and for all you sorry Joe, Harry and Steve Smiths or even the occasional Brian Warner, he’s the luckiest-named man on Earth.

Honestly, who can imagine Diamond having become anything else? With a name like that, it’s hard to fathom him owning Neil Diamond Plumbing & Heating or Neil Diamond Landscaping, Inc.

Even beyond the name, his biography is also ready-made for a superstar. Unlike your standard rock stars who tuned out in the 1960s and followed drugs and fame, Diamond went to New York University on a fencing scholarship. You read that right. Of course, he found a reason to leave college — like so many pre-meds, he didn’t like organic chemistry, so he took a job writing songs. After getting frustrated, he set out on his own, playing at clubs and coffeehouses until 1966, when he scored several hits and a smash that he didn’t even record — when the Monkees recorded his song “I’m a Believer.”

Since 1966, he’s become part of America’s collective pop/rock consciousness. His is always among the top-grossing musical tours, and tends to only get beat by the big names of music like Streisand and Springsteen, who only tour once in a great while. Neil never seems to stop, but he still brings in fans with the best of them.

It’s not hard to see why, either. Find someone who more earnestly means what he’s singing than Diamond. You’ll be hard-pressed, and it’s not like Diamond makes his own material easy stuff to mean. His lyrics aren’t tongue-in-cheek; there’s no inside joke about them. He is the anti-grunge.

Try going to a bar and telling someone who neils your diamond — if you know what I mean — that you genuinely would be happy there with that person forever in blue jeans. If you can say that and mean it, you deserve an Academy Award. Yet Diamond is zero for two.

As an actor, Diamond’s performances might have been even more sappy, but his work never seems to be the weakest thing about the two movies he’s appeared in: an ill-advised 1980 remake of the 1927 classic “The Jazz Singer” and the bizarre 2001 comedy “Saving Silverman,” in which his appearance nearly bails the film out of its inane series of random gags.

“The Jazz Singer” has a lot of problems, and Diamond is one of them, but not nearly the worst. Certainly his performance may have offended a lot of people, remaking a classic film, but at least he knew that appearing in blackface might not be the way to go.

He probably never will make the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, even as mid-level artists like Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers are cast into the mix. But that’s probably just fine with Diamond. Even if the music industry will never immortalize Neil Leslie Diamond, his fans are almost certain to do so. A new crop of Diamond impersonators are starting to pop up and entertain America’s casinos and other homes of inexpensive entertainment.

He is equally at home with the orchestral in songs like “Holly Holy” and “America” and almost unaugmented tracks like “Forever in Blue Jeans” and “Brother Love’s Traveling Salvation Show.” In the end, it’s the songs that matter.

Diamond may be a lot of things to a lot of people, but to me, whether it’s a hot August night or a September morn, he’ll always be the original Al Jolson. As Diamond would put it, I’m a believer.

Tim Kearns

is a senior in political science from Bellevue, Neb.