I love pop culture. I swim in it. But I'm usually on the margins of music, theater, literature, movies. I find it's in the little side pools, in the little dead-ends, the little failed and strange experiments where I find the stuff that really speaks to me.
There's a lot of pain and broken dreams and aborted projects to be found in the marginal waters. But that's where I usually find the "artists" who have something to say to me. I find those are the waters where I end up doing my work too.
It can be lonely, and counter-cultural (although counter-cultural is just another snack for the voracious appetite of pop culture) in a way, a harder road, but the rewards are substantial when you find kindred souls in your space, and when you do work, hopefully good work, that connects with people, even if it's only a handful people. And even if you "know" them only through their work.
Want examples, sorry, maybe another post...
Anyway, I rarely watch network television, I rarely swim in the mainstream of the flowing, raging, beast of pop culture. But once in awhile I do. The overwhelming lameness of the raging tower of Babel the Beast, the total cheapness of the Great Star-ship Pop is a sight to behold.
Pop culture is beyond good and evil. It's beyond comprehension. You can't sum it up or put it in a box. It is the the raging stream of our existence. It is a cloud of unknowing, it mows us down with it's cheapness, it's glamour, it's raging celebration of youth and wealth. It swallows everything, and spits it out too. It's degrading. It's ridiculous, it's awe-inspiring too. It rolls over us all. It's doesn't care if we love it or hate it.
Some of us struggle to the margins and live on the fringe. There are shelters in the neglected areas, those places where very few want to go. You can hold on there. Hold on. For dear life. At least for a time.