What does it mean to "Like"?

First and foremost, I apologize for temporarily abandoning my post as a PURVEYOR OF ULTIMATE WISDOM for so long.  As it were, life outside of the blogosphere got hectic.  IT HAPPENS, KAY?

Rather than proceeding with my normal question-and-answer format, I will reflect on a profound realization I had today.  It came shortly following a brief quiz I took on Facebook:

My mom agrees with it, so it must be true.

As you might have noticed, I myself "liked" my own quiz result.  Note: I did not do this on purpose.  I did, indeed, like the fact that some entity out there thinks that I am similar to that classiest of Star Trek captains, Jean Luc Picard.  In fact, I love that of all the possible Star Trek characters I could have been, through many iterations of that franchise, I was Picard rather than, say, Neelix.

I will defend Voyager 'til the day I die but this creature is terrifying.

But back to the main point: I did not mean to "like" this quiz result.  After taking the quiz, a little window popped up prompting me thus:

"Do you like your quiz result?"  

And, as I have earlier stated, I did like it, and continue to, and shall like it until the last "Make it so" echoes from my dying lips into the chasms of eternity.  So in the interest of epistemology, I answered truthfully: 

"Yes."

And so when I looked at my wall, I saw that I had Facebook "like[d]" the quiz result.  Here's the thing: are they the same?  When you "like" something, are you saying the same thing as when you say you like something in real life, or is it something more?  My answer is no: while I liked my quiz result, it is not true to say that I "like[d]" it.  Facebook is a filthy liar.

How so?  After all, they asked me if I liked it, and indeed I did.  However, there are many things I privately like.  Prior to this post, I was very private about my liking of a certain Creed song.  It's very embarrassing for me to like a Creed song, because I would not want to be misconstrued as a Creed fan, or even somebody who is okay with the very existence of Creed to any extent.  However, I do very much like the song "One."  (Look, whatever, it's catchy.  That little guitar riffy thing is kinda nice.  Oh who am I kidding, this and my confession of Voyager fandom will sink my blog.)

Let's break it down.  We all like things that we wouldn't publicly "like."  When I like something, it just kind of means I enjoy it.  When I "like" something, it means I publicly endorse it.  I would "like" something like "Being a genius and awesome in general," because by "lik[ing]" it, I kind of publicly participate in it, don't I? Then everyone who sees it on their feed things, "Maybe she is a genius and awesome in general."  Get it?

So when the quiz asked me if I liked my results, it was being deceptive-- posing an epistemic problem.  I thought I was merely liking a thing, while indeed I was "lik[ing]" it.  But you can't accidentally "like" something in good faith, because to "like" something is an act of making a statement like, "I, the person liking this, publicly endorse it in good faith."  

However, I wasn't endorsing anything.  I was just a happy nerd.

On the Catchiness of Catchy Tunes

Dear Ms. Inquiry,


What makes catchy-ass songs so catchy? Why does catchy-ness of song apparently have NOTHING to do with quality of song? Why am I always SO SICK of the catchy ass-song about two months before any of the DJs on commercial radio are? 

EXPLAIN POP MUSIC TO ME,
Guenevere


Dear Lady Guenevere,


I have made it my QUEST to seek the answers to THESE QUESTIONS THREE!  I journey forth into the MOUNTAINS OF MOTOWN, the DUNGEONS OF DIVAS, the ANNALS OF AUTOTUNE to uncover the Holy Grail of music answers: what gives pop its power?


You are keen to observe that catchiness does not necessarily correlate to quality.  For instance, catchy tunes can run the gamut from Mozart's Eine Kleine Nachtmusik (which I defy you not to get stuck in your head for the next five weeks)

to "Whip My Hair" by Willow Smith.

(I am so, so sorry.)

So what is catchiness?  I will define it as "the quality of a song to repeat in your head ad nauseum, until it is replaced either by a song of equal or greater catchiness or the blade of an ax."  But what makes the song get stuck in your head?  What's the difference between Kesha's "Tik Tok" and Milton Babbitt's... anything by Milton Babbitt?

If you have the kind of mind in which "Philomel" can get stuck, you're either a genius or an interdimensional sound alien.

For today's philosophical discussion, I will employ the strategy of Talking Out of My Ass.  It was invented by the Pre-Socratics, and can be seen in an Intro to Philosophy course near you-- in copious quantities-- by the stoner kid who sits in the back and raises his hand every five minutes to say something about The Matrix.  

My guess is that catchy music is catchy because it sounds the same as all other catchy music.  Stay with me now.  Tell me one difference between any Ke$ha song, and any other Ke$ha song, besides song title.  You can't find one, right?  Same beat, same subject matter, same weird sing-talking, same chord progression.  If you hear a catchy song, chances are, you can name five other catchy songs that sound just like it.  Do this, out loud, during long car rides.  Use the knowledge this blog gives you to make yourself sound like a self-important hipster!

Some of this is not on purpose.  There are only so many notes in the Western scales that American pop music uses-- you're going to run out eventually.  And most people have the same taste in note relationships.  But a lot of this stuff is intentional.  Check out this Quincy Jones quote I caught on NPR:

"In the thirties and forties, Basie was one of the biggest bands in America," Jones says. "And the bass drum was four to the floor — gong, gong, gong, gong — exactly the same as disco. Exactly."

What worked in the forties worked in the seventies works right now. Listen to Katy Perry's "Teenage Dream," as one of many examples. It's four to the floor! The hits may change, but the elements do not.

 "The elements do not."  So basically music is the same, cut and pasted, reworked stuff that it has always been.  
So that's what makes tunes catchy-- you've heard them all before.  And songwriters/ producers know this: they know what sold before, they take the extra profitable bits, and then they sew them together in a big, catchy blanket.  The kind of blanket that you can't get off of you.  A KILLER BLANKET DEVOURING YOUR SOUL.  How's that image?


That's probably also why you get sick of music way before deejays do.  Also because you're not paid to pretend you're not sick of it.


Hope that helps,
Yours In Inquiry