No, my forbearance isn’t just because she is
pretty, although she is attractive. (No, she’s not my physical type, but a man
can still admire an attractive woman who isn’t his type). I don’t admire her
because she is a great crafter of songs, although she is indeed a skilled
crafter of catchy lyrics. Not because she has a good voice – I won’t delve into
that thorny question. Not even because everyone else seems to hate her for her
popularity, awakening my inner contrarian.
Unlike a whole host of other artists (that this
blogger shall not name), Swift projects an image that is not completely toxic. Yes,
I know about her, shall we say, awful choice in boyfriends, and decry her peculiar obsession with breakup songs.
But at least she has one at a time! And in a
world where performers put their descent
into depravity on display,
there is something to be said for an artist who doesn’t induce a gag reflex
every time she strains her voice for three minutes. (I know this image is largely based in illusion; I
know her relationships have this annoying habit of ending in disaster. But in
this crazy-quilt world, even the pretense of sanity is better than outright
psychosis.)
This illusion of wholesomeness doesn’t mean that her
lyrics are also wholesome – they aren’t. For her songs incessantly promote a foolish
conception of “love.” Half of her music pushes the standard “happily ever
after” nonsense that the wonderful world of modern entertainment has made its
hallmark. The other half of her music is composed of complaints about relationships gone sour.
But say what you will about their message, her songs
are very well-crafted, and fun to listen to. (Some in my family - including an editor of this blog - will disagree.)
And that, at least, is the embodiment of the self-inflicted problem the modern Christian faces. Those
orchestrating our cultural decline craft terrible messages into attractive packages
for public consumption. Christians come up with confused messages and present
those messages in forms that are painful to listen to.
Given the choice between well-crafted art with a
terrible message and bad art with a semi-palatable message, most people (myself
included) will choose candy-coated toxicity every time. And a confused woman
like Taylor who croons well-crafted lyrics is far better than bands which play
the tripe that constitutes Christian “music” – or should I say auditory torture
noises. At least her falsity is far more true to life than that of "Christian" artists.
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