After months of bounding brash and blameless among the virtuous, Tina Fey and Amy Poehler have been condemned to Hell, banished to lie gurgling beneath the black, sullen surface of the River Styx for the unpardonable sin of being sort of mean to Taylor Swift. Their fate, scrawled in blood and glitter in the book of Vanity Fair, was sealed at this year’s Golden Globes, where—appropriately among the graven idols—Fey and Poehler cracked their slanted, accursed mouths and screeched their slanderous suggestion that Swift should stay away from Michael J. Fox’s son. It was a cruel jest that committed the blasphemy of presupposing godly authority over love, as well as making Taylor Swift go, “Whaaaaat?”
As Swift spake to Vanity Fair, “You know, Katie Couric is one of my favorite people, because she said to me she had heard a quote that she loved, that said, ‘There’s a special place in hell for women who don’t help other women.’” (The quote—originating from Madeline Albright, passed through her vessel Katie Couric—falls in line with another quote Taylor Swift once heard from her other favorite person, God, who said, “Thou shall not bear false witness against your neighbor,” a quote He picked up from Dick Cavett.) For the sin of not having helped Taylor Swift—having, in fact, deeply hurt her by suggesting she has a history of dating famous men, then writing songs about them as part of her carefully marketed image—Taylor Swift has helped Fey and Poehler by letting them know what the afterlife has in store for them, so they may enjoy all the time they have left here setting feminism back.
For others gloating that they've escaped Swift damnation, let them be forewarned that the widespread mocking of “something that potentially should be celebrated—a woman writing about her feelings in a confessional way” (then setting those confessions to music for clowns and bunnies to dance to) is “frankly a little sexist,” in Swift's all-seeing eye. She also doesn’t appreciate the immature, oh-so-high-school gossip about the details of her relationship with One Direction singer Harry Styles (which is why she instead “authorized someone to discuss them” with the magazine). Nor is she okay with the insinuation that she bought a house near her ex Conor Kennedy (even though Vanity Fair confirms she actually did). Those who spread such rumors will be imprisoned within the flaming tombs reserved for heretics and people who check real estate records.
There's also this line: “As she sits drinking lavender lemonade in her ‘Tim Burton—Alice in Wonderland—pirate ship—Peter Pan’ apartment, Swift continues, ‘It’s why I have to avoid the tabloid part of our culture, because they turn you into a fictional character.’” The writing of this no doubt caused Vanity Fair reporter Nancy Jo Sales to be cast immediately into the eternal abyss.
UPDATE: Informed of her fate, Amy Poehler told The Hollywood Reporter, "Aw, I feel bad"—which, yes, burning forever in brimstone feels bad. But also, "Aw, I feel bad if she was upset. I am a feminist, and she is a young and talented girl. That being said, I do agree I am going to hell. But for other reasons. Mostly boring tax stuff." Well, so long as she knows.
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