I Keep Writing the Same Poptimism Piece

I don’t have much patience for the idea that we live in a simulation, but I sometimes change my mind when I think about Taylor Swift. Because I occupy the world that I occupy, and I see that it’s one in which absurd hagiography about Taylor Swift is published literally daily, and I note a cultural reality in which anyone who says a critical word about Taylor Swift in any context will get their house set on fire by her fans, and I think to myself that it must be impossible for any human being to possibly believe that Taylor Swift is insufficiently respected, honored, or protected. And yet I find that I occupy the world with another sentient being who has thought to herself, “Why doesn’t Taylor get any respect? Must be hatred of women,” and this prompts me to consider whether my universe is real at all. Real or not, we must always go deeper in the worship of pop icons. And so misogynist, once a term used for men who repeatedly beat their wives or who pushed a sexually aggressive “PUA” agenda, now accrues to those of us who don’t find much to love in the music of Taylor Swift.