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Who’s Afraid of Lady Gaga? (A Rant)

I’m not trying to be an apologist for Taylor Swift, but the next person who informs me that she has no talent might get conked with my copy of Twilight.

A big goal in my life, which squares nicely with other pursuits like dance parties and eating donuts, is to be entertained.  And Tay-Sway is entertaining, as is lots of other stuff that’s popular and less-than-highbrow.

I get the problems with these works: you don’t have to explain them to me, mansplainers.  (The offender is often a man.  The topic is usually a piece of entertainment made by/for women — exceptions granted for Justin Bieber, but isn’t he really a teenage girl anyway? — and the maligner has read too many online articles on pop culture but, curiously, has read/heard/seen the work he’s criticizing not at all, or only in the most fleeting and cursory way.  These are people who imagine they are “elevating the discourse” by pointing out that Divergent is derivative.)  

Everyone’s a critic when the problems with a work are glaringly obvious.  Reading the doings of the “inner goddess” in Fifty Shades of Grey made me want to end it all, but everyone snickering about her is worse.  Way to hit that super-easy target, guys!  I’m much more impressed with those who made a case for the story and pointed out its merits.

Enjoyment and appreciation don’t have to correlate with merit, particularly a very narrow definition of what is good.  Who cares if Katy Perry is an overly processed, mass market sellout confused about the definition of feminism?  She’s catchy and fun.  Turn up the music and dance.

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