I Need to Stop Worrying and Love the Swift
I think it’s safe to assume that President Obama has been kicked out of office, and America is now being ruled by a cute, blonde, songwriting overlord. I see her in more places than I can possibly fathom. I hear her name in more places than anyone should be allowed to hear it. She’s awful and awfully brilliant. Either that or her publicist is the same one Jesus had.
I think you all know I’m talking about her. –>
Her blue, consistently-scowling eyes judge you from the cover of People every third month. Her music fills your ears with semi-sweet nothings about all of the douchebags she plowed through in the past year. She is an infection that even amoxicillin and/or hiding out in Siberia can’t cure.
She, my readers, is Taylor Swift. The media’s sweetheart. And I am damn sick of her.
She’s Entertainer of the Year for the second year in a row, and while last year she may have deserved it, I cannot understand how the bloody hell she won it for 2010. Her latest album only came out two months ago. Her one film role of the year was in an ensemble drama (that, by the way, was a sad attempt by Hollywood to re-create the much funnier/better-written British film Love Actually). She doesn’t entertain outside of cut a CD per year and tour. She does not have the shock value of Lady Gaga or the tragic teenage-downfall backstory of Lindsay Lohan.
She is in the tabloids more often than not for her many, many month-long relationships with every imaginable teen heartthrob in Hollywood (discounting Rob Pattinson, who prefers the crack-addict look to the pseudo-virginal Southern blonde anyways). She and (insert name here) will go on a few coffee dates, make it onto the cover of People again, and be broken up by the time the moon is full again in some messy way that you’d see more frequently on a teen soap opera. And how does she bounce back from every single one? She writes a song that makes it onto her album.
The moral of the story? Don’t date Taylor Swift, boys…and girls…and humans.
I’m sure she has a stellar personality (don’t they all?), but frankly, other than her poor-me relationship history, I find her to be exceedingly bland. She can sing, yes. But other than a grand old country-warble and the idea that she does, in fact, write her own music (a rarity), she offers little to no entertainment value. The songs she writes, when they aren’t about her most recent boy-toy, are basically Swift trying to paint herself as a 21-year-old wise-woman with all of this world experience about life and love. It all frankly makes me want to vomit.
And yet the girl is everywhere (and dating everyone)! I was watching my local news this morning, like I do every morning, and the first news story I see isn’t about the latest murder downtown or the price of gas. It was about how Taylor Swift rang in the big 2-1 in Nashville.
On my local news station. The one place I can safely say this media overlord does not belong.
And I find it to almost be proof to why so many people thing society in America is collapsing. For it is a sad, sad day indeed when the top news story on your local station is how Taylor Swift celebrated her birthday this year. It really makes a part of me want to cry.
Celebrities and media stars certainly have their place in our society: on our iTunes playlists and movie screens. I still feel that this constant insistence upon knowing their every move and their every romantic interest is not only overbearing to them, but completely irritating to the rest of us who aren’t interested. And really, who needs to know that Taylor Swift is dating a man ten-years her senior? Who gives a flying fuck?
In Japan, movie and music stars are seen as not two-bit tabloid fodder and after-work gossip at the gym. They are seen as artisans who excel in their craft. That is who they are, and people leave them the hell alone. They will come out for awards ceremonies and promotional purposes, but you don’t see eight-hundred pictures of Tatsuya Fujiwara coming out of a coffee shop with his girlfriend…
*Which is a real shame. There really can’t be enough photographs of this man.*
Why can’t America stop getting all up in our celebrities’ business? Will we ever learn that they really are no big deal, and that their obligation to write music, smile for the camera, and give us a temporary leave from our normal, boring lives is nothing but their JOB, much like the common mechanic’s job is to smile while changing your tires, and we shouldn’t be revering them as gods any more than said mechanic?
I honestly have no answer to this question. You tell me.