3. Commando Rating
If someone had 15 seconds to tell an audience about an exciting summer blockbuster, would your song help them do it? That's because your song also tells the lizard part of our brains to kill.
4. Gay Porn Rating
Sorry, I meant for there to be a picture of gay pornography here, but the best I could find was Freddie Mercury in chain mail from the movie Commando
. I had Google Smart Search on, and it was smart enough to know that if I saw two actual guys doing it, I would spend the rest of the day praying these feelings stop feeling so right and crying into the dick hole I was fucking in a gorilla suit.
5. Astley Rating
This simply measures how well your song works as a backdrop for some guy dancing like a goofy asshole.
To begin the experiment, I told Pandora to build a radio station based around my favorite song, "Sussudio," by Phil Collins. Somewhere in Phil Collins's mouth, a dark penis stirred, sensing the forces I'd called upon. Snakes surged out of my computer as Pandora created an electronic DJ capable of a "Sussudio"-based playlist-- Drive Time Zola was born. He is Hitler's finest Phil Collins fan, in the body of his favorite robot, weekdays from 6 to 9 a.m.
Degree #1: "Relax"
by Frankie Goes to Hollywood
Drive Time Zola's first pick was "Relax." Its robot brain thought the "groove based tonality" and "repetitive melodic phrasing" were a close match to Phil Collins's song about tongue abuse. I actually think it had more to do with the fact that "Relax" starts out with these exact lyrics:
Give it to me one time now
Yeah, whoa, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
Next to "Sussudio," it sounded like two babies were fighting over the judges' decision in a suck contest. It lowered the property value of my ears so much that now I can't hear lobster.
For my sanity, and my safety, I pressed pause before the part of the song where Frankie Goes to Hollywood screams, "Hit me hit me hit me hit me with your laser beam! Laser beam me!" I was working with a robot intelligence that takes that kind of command seriously, and the last thing I needed was a phaser fight in my computer while all these homosexual sonic waves were holding a protest march. Because phonically, that's the only way to describe what was happening.
I told Drive Time Zola to erase his memory banks and then create a station based around my favorite song, "Relax" by Frankie Goes to Hollywood. He sent an electronic signal telling every appliance in my home to laugh at me before he obeyed.