We all know that Copernicus was the harbinger of death for the Catholic Church. When his heliocentric theory dropped it rang the death knell for organized religion; the God they were trying to sell almost had to be recalled like salmonella peanut butter.

"What kind of God makes us rotate around the fuckin' sun, man?", was the general consensus throughout white people land, "this is bullshit".

Bullshit indeed. Now, like an ancient curse that has risen like some zombie corpse man-bride, a new Copernicus is upon us, Copernicus 2.0, and he doesn't have his sights set on church...

I listen to the radio to keep up with what "the kids" are listening to. There are no more top 40 stations, it's Top 7 or 9 songs at best. And they all have that robot jabber-talk shit that sounds like some dude was repeatedly stabbed in the throat with a vocoder.

The voice, no longer recognizable, synthesized and transmogrified into this aberration, this mutant self-harmonizing freak - this is technology gone horribly askew, as if Dr. Moreau hijacked a sound booth and his grotesque robo-hybrids are forever sentenced to sing about the most inane, juvenile shit; a choir for the damned. It's like someone took all the "Big Johnson T-shirts" in the world and pushed them down this man's electronic throat and these lyrics are what he vomited back up, guts and all:

(From the #1 selling itunes song, "Right Round", Flo Rida)

From the top of the pole I watch her go down
She got me throwin my money around
Ain't nothin more beautiful to be found
It's goin down down.

Hey Shawty must know I'm not playin
My money love her like a numba one fan
Don't look at my mouth, let her talk to my fans
My Benjamin Franklin

Now, I appreciate how he invokes Benjamin Franklin, especially in the context of a strip club, Franklin was the Bill Clinton of yesteryear in a libidinous sense. And we are all aware of strippers and their dogmatic hunger for money. Blah, blah, I'm not here to argue the tenets of capitalism and it's correlation to our basic desires.

My quarrel lies with that damnable auto-tuner. I'm always game for a good story, the lewder the better; all i ask, is that you tell me in your own fuckin' voice. All of a sudden everyone's hitting notes octaves apart perfectly harmonized with indestructible inhuman accuracy. It's as if everyone found the cheat code and now it's like:

"Oh you can't hit that note? You can't sing for shit can you? Hold on (up, up, down, down, etc.) There. Looks like you hit that shit now dog."

Awesome.

I guess we are close to Kurzweil's technological singularity theory, and maybe, like Religion, I'm just not ready for the blunt honesty of science.

Or maybe, I don't need to hear a bunch of stupid ass songs sung to me by robots.

This is bullshit.


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