What was predictable, and warranted, was the fact that Dion's next album, "Courage," would be dedicated to mourning and un-mooring, to loss, to the universal feelings all of us have when we lose someone/anyone dear. That's Dion's role in the music world: take an intimate moment, be it a lover's kiss or a child's cry, shout it out loud, and do it with enough drama and treacle that Andrew Lloyd Webber would get a nosebleed at the very thought. Dion's best moments, be it "All by Myself" or "My Heart Will Go On," are nothing if not a combination of moody mawkishness, grandstanding theater and syrupy bombast. Beyond the twilight's last gleaming of '80s hair metal bands gasping for success, it is Celine Dion who built and maintained the power ballad as her own weapon of mush destruction. She's the Wernher von Braun of epic wonder and woe.