Is this really necessary? Have I really been pushed this far? This is a column about writing columns. I feel inclined to publish this for the sake of education, not retaliation directed toward my more impassioned readers.
I’ve only written two entertainment-oriented columns preceding this one over the course of the academic school year (yes, online readers, I’m in college) and after each column, I’ve received such incredible feedback that it’s made me wonder… does everyone get death threats after writing opinion pieces about pop culture? I asked around the newsroom… not even the regular columnists have gotten such robust replies to their work.
Allow me to elaborate for those who haven’t kept a tab on my writing as of late: I wrote a column about how, once in a while, it’s nice to forget about your snobby music tastes and groove to some ridiculous rap music or sing your lungs out to a cheesy pop song. That was the thesis. In passing, I made a remark about Clay Aiken’s song lyrics being creepy. Do I really have to defend that assumption? OK, I realize believing a song that reads “If I was invisible, then I could just watch you in your room,” is creepy totally depends on your perspective. After all, this is a column… I consulted no experts and interviewed no celebrities. I am writing what I think and commenting on what I think is funny.
After the snide remark I made about Aiken’s lyrics, I received countless hate messages, including three death threats.
“Wait… huh?” I thought. He wasn’t even remotely the subject of my criticism. All of a sudden, a group of crazies, who call themselves “The Claymates,” wanted to slit my throat. No exaggeration. I could have put those violent words in quotes.
I realize not all Clay Aiken fans are crazy. I realize Clay Aiken probably writes much better songs than “Invisible.” I’m also sure Aiken would disown all fans who use violent threats against critics, especially ones who make little-to-no impact on his career. I’m just sayin’… unless I’m sorely mistaken… most people don’t read my columns, find a single critical phrase and then base it on their entire opinion. Part of me hopes they would… but then I would dominate the world, a responsibility for which I’m not ready.
So I learned my lesson. No more direct swings at silly celebrity follies. But then, I decided to write a column (not a movie review – understand the two have different purposes: one to express personal opinion and the other to analyze the artistic elements of a film) about “Broken Bridges,” a film produced by the Country Music Channel and starring Toby Keith. Straight up, this is why I wrote the column: The movie made several character generalizations that I felt perpetuated stereotypes of Southerners.
Therefore, it deserved criticism.
I think my satire was lost on a few readers, who felt I was the one perpetuating stereotypes. I received hate mail once again. Someone claimed my father had molested me, and I was projecting some past experience. A little inappropriate if you ask me. A woman from South Carolina took time out of her life to call the Editor in chief of the Emerald to complain and (unsuccessfully) implant him with fear of Keith’s lawyers.
First, I did very little to criticize Mr. Keith’s acting. Second, what I wrote was a column about the ridiculousness of stereotypes, not a movie review of “Broken Bridges.” If someone were to make a movie about grunge music in Seattle, and everyone wore plaid shirts and Dr. Martens, drank microbrews, drove beat-up Subarus and committed suicide, I’d most definitely write a column laughing at that setup. Just because I live in the Northwest doesn’t mean I’m a crazy liberal who’s never visited the South. In fact, I’ve been to the South and know from experience a great majority of Southerners don’t fit the stereotype – thus, why I wrote the column.
So there you have it. I wrote a column about writing columns. And I hope everyone enjoyed. I suspect I’ll get more hate mail for this because the names “Clay Aiken” and “Toby Keith” are published within, but I hope to be disproved. I revel in feedback and intelligent criticism, by all means. And I will admit, perhaps this is entirely my fault. Perhaps my prose is hideously incomprehensible, or perhaps I should stray from publishing anything remotely critical. My columns would be boring, but everyone would be… bored? Bottom line: I’d like to be able to write about pop culture, a seemingly superficial but impactful realm of society, without fearing for my life. Or maybe I just need to start lifting weights.
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