The cynical view of Taylor Swift’s The Eras Tour goes something like this: let’s take a cash grab tour of her past lovers and public debacles through songs that may have changed genres two or three times, but all sound the same. (They don’t.)

The critical view goes something like this: after mastering country, pop, and indie, are we looking at the next all-time great? (Ignoring the fact that, if she were a man, she’d already be lauded as being there.)

The delusion fan view goes something like this: Is this algebraic formula an Easter egg? (No.) Taylor Swift is for the girls, gays, and theys and straight men shouldn’t be allowed at the tour. (This is exhausting.) I bought all four versions so I could have a clock. (Okay, this one is more on Taylor’s incredible mind for capitalism; but, c’mon folks, it’s the same record. You only need one copy.) Etc.

Somewhere in the middle of this wild and inaccurate Venn diagram of discourse is the truth: we are witnessing something not quite before seen in history. Taylor has achieved something not seen in decades: monoculture. She’s the zeitgeist. Everyone seemingly has something to say about it. Including me.