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"FacebookPinterest\n\n Time once more for Make It Stop, in which we count down the three things this week that must stop. \n\n1. Yeezus navel-gazing. Kanye's new album dropped last week, and every time there's a new Kanye album, hipsters and assorted white people from across America fall all over themselves to scrutinize it. I mean, look at this:\n\n The guy we thought we knew is gone. The dream is over. Kanye West is dead. Yeezus has risen.\n\nOr this.\n\nOr this:\n\nI've listened to \"Blood on the Leaves\" twenty times; I'm sure I'll listen another hundred before the month is out. I can't decide: Is it brilliantly tasteless? Or just plain tasteless? A cheap stunt? A tour de force? The worst song I've ever heard? The best? What other musician makes you ask such questions?\n\nOr, for fuck's sake, this.\n\nEnough, people. You can feel the strain of these Kanye fanboys. Sometimes I think that Kanye West is less a musician than he is an ongoing study for unemployed anthropology majors. He's one of the biggest, most self-absorbed assholes on the planet, and yet people waste trillions of gigabytes of bandwidth to talk about what Kanye's assholishness MEANS. What does his assholishness say about fame? What does his assholishness say about the state of race relations in America? Is his love child with Kim Kardashian actually a subversive deconstruction of our collective superficiality? Does the boringness of his new album have its own fascinating qualities? \n\nWell, you know what? Fuck Kanye West. FUUUUUCK KANYE WEST. Seriously. Half the people who go batshit insane over a new Kanye album probably only like him for posterity. He's there to give your iTunes library more street cred. And I say this as someone who has, at times, legitimately enjoyed West's music. I like \"All Falls Down.\" I like \"All of the Lights.\" I'm not made of stone. I am not here to be the crotchety old white guy who doesn't get \"the rap hop music\". I'm just here to knock some sense into the Kanye Industrial Complex. Because I listened to \"Yeezus\" and it was basically forty minutes of ambient sound at a Berlin fuck club, interspersed with the occasional chipmunk chorus interlude. The only time I liked the album was when a guest vocalist appeared to give the listener a break from Kanye bitching about the dirty looks he gets whenever he walks into an Alexander Wang store. \n\nI don't need this. I don't need to listen to someone craft a meticulous beat only to say \"uh huh\" over it fifty straight times. I don't need someone to make an inaccessible album only to have apologetic music critics be like, \"It's coldness is what makes it so brilliant!\" I don't to need hear West layer his boring-ass flow under five hundred vocoders. I don't need one more goddamn Pitchfork review that reads like an unreadable Kenyon Phd dissertation:\n\n Kanye's starkly-lit visage appeared to recite \"New Slaves\"'s anti-consumerist lines as cabs streaked by the luxury stores below. His was the only black face to be seen across the jumbo ads lining an eerily desolate 5th Ave. The van soon closed its doors and drove away; the culture bomb's flash was over in an instant, but the reverberations were just starting to spread.\n\nWhat reverberations? It's a fucking album. You won't listen to a single cut from it a year from now. You'll just be Tumblring out WHAT'S YEEZY GONNA DO NEXT?! West is good at making albums, but he's even better at making both himself and his music seem more interesting than they actually are. Take these lyrics...\n\nDamn your lips very soft  As I turn my Blackberry off  And I turn your bath water on And you turn off your iPhone\n\nThat's stupid. That's a Justin Bieber song right there. You can try and force-fit all the context into that verse that you like, but it's still a bag of shit. This is a guy who impregnated worldwide flash-bulb dumpster Kim Kardashian and probably timed the birth of their demon spawn to coincide with his album release. He's probably not anywhere near as deep as you think he is. His dickishness doesn't need to be anything more than straight up dickishness. And all the quirks and farts that he loads into any given album can be just as indulgent and pointless as any other bored rock star who refuses to give his fans catchy songs that don't require hours of self-induced brainwashing to enjoy.\n\nSo no more. The next time Kanye tweets out a date ambiguously or releases an album or gives a purposefully trolly interview to the New York Times, just keep your Yeezy boners in check. If you need one useful analysis of Kanye West's music, go here. Otherwise, trust me: there's no subtle genius in being a piece of shit. \n\n2. The fact that we are constantly one Supreme Court vote away from going back to the Stone Age. It was a 5-4 vote to overturn DOMA because of course it was. This Supreme Court is always a whisper away from outlawing blowjobs and allowing dead white Georgians to vote. They just overturned a portion of the Voting Rights Act, for shit's sake. We are a country that has the ability to build skytrains and have digital porn billboards, and yet, thanks to a divided Supreme Court and political stonewallers on both the left and the right, we're still gonna be arguing about the same, tired bullshit we always have fifty years from now instead of actually living in the future. What a load.  \n\n3. Aaron Hernandez murdering people. I need the former star tight end to take a one-week break from shooting people just so we can keep up on the body count, please. Oh yeah, ALLEGEDLY. Sorry.   \n\nDrew Magary is a GQ correspondent and a staff writer for Deadspin. Follow him on Twitter via @drewmagary and pre-order his new book about fatherhood, Someone Could Get Hurt, at his website"^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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