This is not a novel pop culture philosophy quandary, but it is one that keeps coming up.  It came up last night at the Boot, actually.  It has to do with the search for outward cues to find self-definition.

I have not believed in “guilty pleasures” for years.

It is easy to overcomplicate the murky waters of cultural snobbery.  It is a shorthand many young people use to define themselves.  Thankfully, we have aged out of middle school and the vicious circle of treachery that happens there.  I’m thinking of Dawn Weiner in Todd Solondz’ remarkable Welcome to the Dollhouse.  The movie captures some universal memories too ugly for most entertainment to mention, particularly the anxiety and hostility of trying to find a seat in the cafeteria.

While we don’t indulge in such naked depravity in social situations anymore, there are many ways we use cultural referents to identify the person we want to think of ourselves as.  Pop culture appreciation and derision has become to different degrees a method of self-segregation.  “This stuff” is what me and my people are into and “that stuff” is what others are into.

This sounds paranoiac but I’m convinced it’s real, albeit rarely so calculated or overt.  More often, it is something that sneaks into our beings unnoticed, but there are symptoms you might relate to.  What do we express when we abashadly call something a “guilty pleasure?”  I think we are saying something along the lines of:

“I’m aware that this is something I’m not supposed to like based on the cultural biases I have imposed upon myself, but for some strange reason I enjoy it.”

While such reflection usually comes out in rather frivolous conversation, the implications seem deeply sad to me.  Why should anybody feel shame for liking something?

This is not an excuse to lapse into “everything’s okay” apathy.  I’ve been told there are people who can live without obsessive interaction with pop culture, and live happy, fulfilling, productive lives.  I just don’t relate.  I believe in the validity of way out of proportion passion for pop ephemera.  Love and hate and everything in between.

What do I love?  Lots of things, today it has been Prince more than anything else.  What do I hate?  “Out of the Box”.  It’s a beloved local new music program on 89.5 that plays thousands of tunes you will never hear anywhere else on the dial.  There’s no rational reason to hate it, it seems to serve a valuable service on the dial, and I know plenty of lovely, intelligent people who treasure it.

I should probably just leave it alone and accept it as benevolent program that fails to tickle my boat.  That can’t erase a visceral loathing that wells up within me when I’ve tried to listen (I’m to understand many people feel something similar listening to corporate, commercial radio).  This is a dangerous rant I’ll save for another day, but the ultimate feeling is of a program that subverts it’s espoused goals of being a showcase for new, underexposed music to a deeply fearful refusal to play anything that might offend or alienate an average old white heterosexual male.

The thing is I get anxious in expressing my displeasure with the program, because there is a tacit agreement among many people I come across that it is one of the best things on the radio.  I used to get this a lot and would go the cowardly route of grinding my teeth, smiling, and just barely avoiding lying with rote factual statements.

“Yeah, they do play a lot of music you won’t hear anywhere else.”

So “Out of the Box” was a guilty displeasure of mine, and I’ve had to push through that, even if I get labeled a hater once again.  I made a nastier version of this point on a comments thread earlier, and got a reply favorably comparing “Out of the Box” to stations that play Nickelback and “Hollaback Girl” incessently.

I love “Hollaback Girl” and I’m not the slightest bit guilty about it.  I hate Nickelback with a similar lack of guilt.  Loving and hating pop objects is wonderful, and I do believe it teaches us about ourselves.  The thing to be suspicious about is when you catch yourself liking or disliking things because you feel you’re supposed to.  That is when there is an external pressure you’re taking too seriously, and it just might say some ugly things about your attitudes towards culture and the population that consumes it.

And say nasty things.  Don’t be afraid, and don’t require the validation of others.  But please make sure it is a conclusion you’ve arrived at rather than following a subcultural program.  Don’t dare feel superior to another person because of the magazines you subscribe to.  Fcuk guilty pleasures and fcuk good taste.  Follow your muse and don’t let anybody make you feel bad about it.