Can We Talk About Taylor Swift For A Moment?

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Personally, I am not really a fan. I am really sorry that that one guy at the 2009 VMAs interrupted her like a crazy person. Kanye West, right? I only have a vague idea of who he is. His tweets are basically those of Tracy Jordan from 30 Rock, as I understand things.

Mostly against my will, I do know who Taylor Swift is. I started becoming aware of famous people about whom I do not care when I started reading Evil Beet Gossip back in late 2008—and I have been addicted ever since.

Some number of months after the 2009 VMAs, I saw this adorable video, which is the gay version of her “You Belong With Me” music video. As a result, I know that particular song. I have not genuinely cared for any of her music that I have heard.

I know that she has great taste in guys. I know that, despite her awful bangs, she is a beautiful young woman who is extremely successful and has a figure for which millions of young women would kill.

I also know that I am not a fan. Her music has this very southern element to it and, while my family has been in this part of the southeastern United States for at least seven generations, and probably more than that, I am not a fan of Country Music. The sound of a banjo honestly just seems like the music that would accompany a lynch mob. Also, and perhaps more importantly, Taylor Swift’s music seems, lyrically, all about romance and love. Not just that—a lot of music is about love—but about these fairytale and juvenile ideas about romance. I am twenty-five, so, quite naturally, life crushed all of that nonsense out of my head about a decade ago. Her refusal to accept the reality that love and relationships do not happen like they do in vintage Disney films does not appeal to me.

So, have you guys read this brilliant post by the lovely Emily on Evil Beet? Read it. Also, read the comments. Oh my goodness. (Also, I have no idea if ForgetWhatSimonSays is a reference to me or to something else. It’s presumptuous to assume that some crankypants named his or her commenting identity after me, though, right?)

My favorite of the comments is definitely from Mireee, who is one of my favorite commenters on Evil Beet, period. “Fucking hell, so she and her friends don’t even pass the Bechdel Test when they’re together.” I died. Too funny. And too accurate.

Talking about boys is one thing. Only talking about boys, with all of your friends? I do not understand Taylor Swift. And maybe I am not meant to.

Of the people whom I know, her fans tend to be girls and gay guys with very Southern leanings in terms of their senses of identity (especially gay friends from scarily small towns). Also, often but not always, concepts of highly improbable runaway romances fill their minds. These people enjoy the feelings that I have long since buried, and I will not begrudge them for it.

She comes from a different world than I do, and so do her fans. That world does not exist, but I guess that they enjoy it. I can sit back and ignore it, even if I am always disgusted when people romanticize the 1950s.



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The UK’s Top Female Role Models: Not Who You’d Think

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A new poll of women for mydaily.co.uk has revealed that the likes of Kate Moss and Cheryl Cole are non-starters in terms of influence when compared with the more ‘heavyweight’ likes of Baroness Thatcher, Condoleezza Rice and The Queen. I’m genuinely surprised by the results of this survey, which asked the question ’which woman do you find most influential’ – but pleasantly surprised. The women who make the survey’s list are women who have made a difference to the lives of others, rather than just being famous women in the public eye.

Harley Street psychologist Sue Frith told The Daily Telegraph that the findings of the survey are ‘very much substance over style,’ and went on to say that ‘this is very reassuring.’ She’s right. The mainstream media feeds us this …

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Teenage Role Models: Miley Cyrus Drunk, Stoned, and Losing Her Virginity

So, Miley Cyrus is set to star in a new film titled LOL, alongside Demi Moore.   Miley’s character will be seen smoking pot, losing her virginity, kissing girls, drunk off of her ass, and flashing her Brazilian wax.  Suburban mothers around the world are going to lose it, and shit is surely going to get crazy.  I imagine Hannah Montana toys across the country will be set ablaze and millions of cheesy Montana-themed t-shirts will be donated to Goodwills nationwide.   Pre-pubescent children everywhere will be sobbing.  And to think that this phrase will be uttered in the film LOL by Demi Moore in regards to Cyrus’s character:

“You’re my daughter … and I won’t let you turn into a porn star!”

So, wait — remind me again why Miley Cyrus is supposed to be a role model to young children?  Oh, yeah, that’s right, it’s because she is on a Disney TV show.  If that doesn’t scream role model I don’t know what does. Enough said; consider me smited.

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How Skinny Jeans, Lattes and Feminists Murdered the Marlboro Man

Masculinity started its downward spiral sometime around when that harlot and presumed feminist, Eve, convinced poor old gullible Adam to eat the apple. I mean, after Michael kicked them out of Eden, it was all sharing feelings and antiquing and man purses.

But even though masculinity has always been on the decline, its most feared opponent — skinny jeans — has sent manhood into an all-out death spiral.

So says Jane Gilvary of The Bulletin: Philadelphia’s Family Newspaper.

Jane begins her article with the following strange and more-than-slightly-homophobic diatribe:

Despite what feminists might argue, real men don’t wear skinny jeans. Real men also don’t wear V-neck tees, or accessorized scarves, and they avoid purple and pink like the plague. The mere idea of a pedicure or waxing makes a real man nauseous. If a woman hangs out with this kind of girly-man routinely, it’s only because she wants to share his wardrobe and his non-fat caramel macchiato. A woman can’t imagine a man reloading his double barrel shotgun or chopping wood when he’s donned in Donna Karan and drinking an Appletini. Men were meant to wear rugged Wranglers, leather jackets and boots, like they belong in a James Dean movie and not an episode of “Will & Grace.”

We feminists just love ruining things for those cross-stitching, pie-baking “real women” who want their men sweaty, hairy and gassy. Need I remind Jane that many of the men Grace actually dated were not scarf-wearing, latte-sipping “quasi-queers,” but the very manly-men that she describes? The point of Will and Grace was that Will and Jack were actually gay — not her metrosexual boyfriends.

I am so endlessly sick of the “decline of masculinity” argument. Masculinity will be on the decline when men, on average, make less money than women. Masculinity will be on the decline when “paternity leave” isn’t considered silly. Masculinity will be on the decline when the phrase “You throw/hit/drive like a girl” is no longer an insult. Masculinity will be on the decline when the United States has had 45 female Presidents. And even if masculinity is declining — and it’s not — studies prove that even the very metrosexuals that Jane fears get chosen for jobs over female candidates.

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