Pop music has been a chip on the shoulder of those who pay close attention to music since Ray-Bans first touched down on the bridge of James Dean’s perfect nose

I cannot stress enough that there are real lessons to be learned from the 194 seconds of “Call Me Maybe” that can last much longer than the length of the song.

As an appreciator, your life is (or will be) a generally uplifting experience. Sadly, not everyone appreciates “Call Me Maybe.” I wish it were just like my grandpa always used to say: Fuck The Haters. But more often than not, a lethal cocktail of ignorance and emotional politics fuels maybe hatred. Few detractors don’t like it because of the content of the song itself: there is almost always have some external line of reasoning for their sour take on the song. Their list of excuses will have all the substance of a fifth-grader explaining exactly how the dog ate his homework: “I heard she doesn’t write her own music.” “She sounds like a 13-year old.” “She’s part of the machine, man. Bieber just lifted her out of the throng to make more cash.” Novice Jepsen evangelists will understandably find encounters with haters frustrating and confusing.

You must understand that haters have constructed an alternate reality around themselves, one where shitting on a perfect jewel is the equivalent of enlightenment. If you feel frustrated dealing with them, just imagine what it’s like inside their own heads! No Carly, no perspective, no humanity. My heart hurts just typing about it: here in the real world, negativity in the presence of “Call My Maybe” should be listed in the DSM V as a symptom of psychosis.

Pop music has long been a chip on the shoulder of those who pay close attention to music, and has been shunned as “too easy” by cool kids since Ray-Bans first touched down on the bridge of James Dean’s perfect nose. I’d like to think this frame of mind is rapidly becoming extinct, but I still run into disturbing pockets of pop pretension at all levels of society. For the love of Stevie, give it up, guys! We have fucking YouTube now. You have no clout.

Might as well learn how to sing along while you’re sifting through khakis

More than society’s general annoyance with your attitude, I want you to feel better. Enjoying popular music makes everything better. You’re at the mall? You’ll almost certainly be hearing that new Bruno Mars song, so might as well learn how to sing along while you’re sifting through khakis. Buying a hot new slice of consumer electronics? You know you’re gonna be hitting up tech support sooner or later, and guess who’s always on hold music? Beyoncé. If you have any younger relatives, you will feel whole when you finally learn how to take them to Carly Rae Jepsen concerts and enjoy the music for what it is: a simple plastic beacon that has the power to become a positive touchstone for everyone in a society to have something in common... if they’ll just let it.

Maybe.