Is it time to designate the Swifties a terrorist organization?
I’m just kidding, Swifties. Please accept one of these friendship bracelets. They’re like the ones changing hands in acts of goodwill during Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour. I assumed there would be a Toronto concert. Instead, Ms. Swift snubbed Canada.
Maybe I’ll give the bracelets to John Mayer. He could use some friendship.
We begin in 2010. This is when Swift releases “Dear John.” The hit song was a fusillade: “All the girls that you’ve run dry have tired lifeless eyes / ’Cause you burned them out.” The lyrical clues convinced Swifties this kiss and tell, give ’em hell was about Mr. Mayer. He’s been sleeping with one eye open ever since.
Unfortunately for John, “Dear John” is back in pop culture.
Swift is re-releasing the track as part of next month’s “Speak Now (Taylor’s Version).” She’s performing the song live for the first time in years. And she is asking her fans to not cyberbully Mayer, which has prompted many to cyberbully him even more.
He posted a snap on Instagram this week from his concert in Boston. Here are some of the comments: “You snitch … Speak never Johnny boy, count your days … You should’ve known.” “Under arrest for stolen girlhood.” “it’s about to be a cruel summer for you dear john.” “Mother told us to be nice but you’re not out of the woods yet.” “Would’ve could’ve should’ve been on that submarine.”
Wow. Wishing Mayer was on a submersible that imploded in the black and frigid ocean’s depths is beyond evil. For the record, Swift has never confirmed “Dear John” is about Mayer. Maybe it’s about John Adams. But Mayer clearly feels targeted.
As he told Rolling Stone in 2012: “I’m pretty good at taking accountability now and I never did anything to deserve that. It was a really lousy thing for her to do.”
Tay-Tay has millions of fans. The ones now cyberbullying Mayer are giving all of them a bad name. I have a question for the Swifties. I’ll ask it after boarding up the windows and hiding behind the couch: Don’t you have anything better to do?
Volunteer at a food bank? Read a book? Expand your musical horizons?
And why are you disobeying Mother, your creepy sobriquet for Taylor?
Here’s what Swift said this weekend: she is now 33 and does not care about what happened when she was 19, the year she dated Mayer, when he was 31. Apologies. This column is turning into junior high math: If a train travels east at 120 kilometres per hour and one billion Swifties are on e-Bikes heading west, how long until they reach Dear John’s house and beat him with pickleball paddles until he promises to move to Mars?
Swift called for “kindness” this week. She asked her rabid stans to not “defend me against someone you think I wrote a song about 14 million years ago.”
And how do they respond? They crank up the nasty trolling.
Do you ever imagine a world without online commenting?
All of Swift’s ex-boyfriends should be placed in the witness protection program. Pack your Gucci bags, Taylor Lautner. You are moving to Boise to be a potato farmer. Put on this Groucho Marx disguise, Jake Gyllenhaal. Hey, Calvin Harris, here’s what you need to know about your new life in the slums of Tijuana: you’ll be safer there.
Swift’s future boyfriends should insist upon song NDAs. Some women throw their ex’s clothes out a window after a bad breakup. Mother settles scores in the studio.
Then her fans burn an effigy of Tom Hiddleston.
The Swifties can be more terrifying than the Wagner Group. In their eternal devotion to their pop songstress, they are also similar to the MAGA cult. Taylor could steal classified documents, plot an insurrection and poison democracy. Swifties would cheer on every stiletto step. If she wrote a song about how an unnamed barista was mean to her, every Starbucks would get firebombed with Molotov cocktails.
I admire her musicianship. She is a generational talent. But she needs to knock it off with the coy diss tracks full of Easter eggs before someone gets a cracked skull. That’s not me defending Mayer. He’s a cad who once described another ex, Jessica Simpson, as “sexual napalm.” Even his chums would not describe him as classy.
I’m back hiding behind the couch. Mother? It’s clear you can no longer sedate your delirious fans with vague, Kumbaya calls for civility. Just read the comments on Mayer’s social. Mother, these children of the corn are not listening to you.
Swift is aghast at bullying when she perceives herself to be on the receiving end. But if her stans fantasize about waterboarding Scooter Braun or boycotting Netflix over an anodyne line in an obscure show, she is all shrugs and batting eyelashes.
I’m not blaming her for the actions of others. I’m just saying with great power comes great responsibility and she is the most powerful pop star in the galaxy. Don’t encourage “kindness” — demand it. Mother needs to tell the hellions, “You’re grounded.” If you want to cyberbully, don’t buy my records or come to my shows.
This is the true test of power Taylor Swift is fumbling this week.
Sometimes you need to be toughest with those who love you most.
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