It's all taken care of: The Genius

I do kinda like my automated life, perhaps I'm a little embarrassed to confess.

I have this funny and convoluted idea, which I find myself consulting from time to time, about what a miserable indignity it must be for everyone birthed outside the nicely upholstered cushions of wealthy western society in say — oh, I don't know — nineteen eighty-three (I'm reminded of the saying about how "back in the day" even the King of wherever had to shit in a bucket). You see, this life — my life — is taken care of.

Mind you, by the measure of those most propinquitous to me, I am not a wealthy fellow. Yet, I have never found myself without the idiomatic excretory pot. My time is completely almost completely allocated to my own pursuits: I can't think of anything I do that feels obligatory. It has been some time since I've found myself being sneaky — I have no one to hide things from, not even the stuff that we're often expected to hide.

Other than the lavishly immoderate relationship I have with the folks who send mouthwatering fruits and vegetables directly to my door every Wednesday, I live, relatively, without signs of gaudiness – so I don't even find myself feeling terribly guilty about my unquestionably good fortune: the tee vee knowingly records my favorite shows; the inscrutable languages of my world come pre-translated; my ravishing lady friend lovingly prepares the majority of my meals (atta babe), my house has just the right number of windows... it's all quite serene.

In spite of all of this, in spite of truly enjoying not having to do many things for myself, I fucking hate the so-called Genius feature on itunes.

1) The name is a bit self-congratulatory for my tastes.
2) The playlists are vapid and expected — as it is designed to be.
3) It absolutely crushes one of the last (last? what am I talking about?) vestiges of individual creativity.

I want to talk about a combination of number two and three. The "Genius" doesn't have to think, it's an algorithm that works off of the collective. Ostensibly, it produces the most uninspired, trite, cornball musical associations imaginable. I don't mean to be hyperbolic or figurative. This Genius encourages you, the listener, to be average, normal, predictable. Essentially, it makes us into a bunch of shitbirds. And I'm not suggesting that I don't like what it produces... I just don't like how it happens.

Make your own playlists. In this case, a billion minds are not better than one. You determine how to mix songs and expression. You create. I'm drawing the line somewhere. A company that screams "we're good and organic!" can send food to my door, that's fine. But I'm not letting anyone suggest to me what could follow Pass the Hatchet, I think I'm Goodkind from Yo la Tengo's I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat your Ass — I'll do that myself.