I have been in a k-hole for a month and I’m pretty sure that’s because 1) I keep doing Special K and 2) am really fucking cool and 3) it may or may not be 1981 but 4) I’m pretty sure all this Special K has skewered my perception of time. Anyway, throughout this whirlwind month, I, The Misanthropologist, stumbled upon a site called Tastebuds.fm, in which pale friendless virgins with record collections can find other pale friendless virgins who think that having the same collection means you’re somehow less alone in the world. And they get you. This, of course, is hilarious bullshit.
You can’t make a relationship out of musical preferences, for one. Just look at what happened in 500 Days of Summer (or don’t, because that movie was fucking insufferable). All you need to know is what happened in the trailer: Joseph Gordon Levitt plays a regular guy who finds himself in an elevator with a girl who recognizes that he is listening to The Smiths and sings along in a straining, thin voice. What is really amazing about this (besides that fact that JGL was shocked that a brunette with bangs in a vintage babydoll liked The Smiths) is that it doesn’t fucking matter if people you want to fuck like the same stupid bands you do. Because that shit is inconsequential. Full disclosure, I don’t really know how the movie ends because I chewed my own arm off to beat the television to death so 500 Days of Summer would no longer be playing. I think it ends poorly. She marries the dude from Deathcab for Cutie or something and totally shows him.
Anyway, the Misanthropologist took this dating site for a spin and surprise! All assholes. Unfortunately, I don’t think this is a deficiency with the bands I like (granted, all the bands I like are fucking righteous) so much as this is a deficiency with the site, insofar as it attracts the kind of people who care about what music their partners listen to.
Now, as I was clicking through these profiles (“I’m a vegetarian and a dreamer,” “I love to express myself through art,” “I enjoy hiking”) and actually looking at where our musical tastes matched up, I realized that there was less overlap than I initially feared. The guy with the lip ring and a cat named Nabokov may like [sweet band] but he also likes MGMT and Dashboard Confessional. Sidenote, though, you gotta be super careful because people love lying about bands on dating profiles and social networks. If every stupid girl with an expensive haircut and a Chanel bag who claims to love The Velvet Underground on Facebook actually did they’d be bigger than fucking Jesus. AND FULL OF MORE HEROIN.
Then I realized that the best way to improve Tastebuds.fm is if you could de-select bands. Like, who cares if Lip Ring McLiberal Arts Degree likes [objectively awesome band], I don’t want to see the dreamily affected photos he took of FUCKING BRANCHES in Central Park if he also enjoys 30 Seconds to Mars. Despite the fact that we are consistent in terms of [band that I like because I have the gift of true opinion], his appreciation for emo or Coldplay or The Eagles makes him sexually unviable.
Which is when I figured I needed a dating site based on bands I hate. But because I was still rocketing back and forth in time from the ketamine, I realized what I actually needed was a dating site based on THINGS I hate. Not just bands. But everything. Humans. Sex. Babies. Myself. Late period Van Halen. Not having a dick. Cat people. Limp hand shakers.
So, I’m founding a start-up. I figure I can just e-mail around and get a couple mil in funding because they seem to just hand that shit out in New York. I did some Googling and turns out all you need is to be “active” on “social media platforms” like “Twitter” and be self-aggrandizing and untrustworthy. Or at least that’s how you get a book deal and a tag on Gawker. So, anyway, then I’ll be the founder and CEO of a dating site and just sit there in my solid gold throne in my authentic exposed brick start-up office and just radiate success and people will fornicate at my feet because they hate the same stuff and are perfect for each other because they subsist on that hate to the point of arousal. I mean, I have graphic, near-sexual fantasies about giving Pete Wentz swirlies all the time. And that’s what I want in a man also.
Or, maybe matching people romantically based on superficial preference is always stupid. I don’t know. Can’t we just sterilize everyone?
Okay, nevermind. Better idea. If you want a successful start-up you need to find the tiniest niche and exploit it until people can’t remember how they lived before your product. I’m founding a start-up that force sterilizes people based on their musical preferences and/or their receptivity to dating sites based around those overlapping musical preferences. Unless you want a world in which babies are conceived to this:
And do you really want that on your shoulders, you sick fuck?