You can tell a lot about a society by its music...

It's one thing for an "artist" to get away with releasing a terrible, terrible song. It's another thing to do it on a regular basis. But it's nothing short of a sign of the coming apocalypse when these songs and "artists" become incredibly popular in a complete disregard for logic, reason, or taste. What makes it even worse is that most of them seem to have something that makes them ridiculously catchy, and you can't remove them from your head with a pipe snake. Allow me to throw up (pun intended) some lyrical excerpts as examples of just how prevalent this terrible, terrible tragedy has become. I apologize now for forcing you to relive these aural assaults, but it's the only way I know to prove my point. And for those of you that actually enjoy these songs, at least have the good sense to be ashamed of it.

Let's kick it off with the song that really seemed to kick of this trend (the rest are in no particular order of awfulness):

Ooooh ooh, this my shit, this my shit
Ooooh ooh, this my shit, this my shit
Ooooh ooh, this my shit, this my shit
Ooooh ooh, this my shit, this my shit

Let me hear you say this shit is bananas
B-A-N-A-N-A-S
(This shit is bananas)
(B-A-N-A-N-A-S)

Again
This shit is bananas
B-A-N-A-N-A-S
(This shit is bananas)
(B-A-N-A-N-A-S)

A few times I've been around that track
So it's not just gonna happen like that
Because I ain't no hollaback girl
I ain't no hollaback girl
I ain't no hollaback girl

Ooooh ooh, this my shit, this my shit
Ooooh ooh, this my shit, this my shit
Ooooh ooh, this my shit, this my shit
Ooooh ooh, this my shit, this my shit

~Gwen Stefani - Hollaback Girl.

WTF!? I feel like she must have had some kind of bet to see how many times she could work the word "shit" into a pop song...and make people spell out the word banana.

Next up:

Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah-ah!
Roma-roma-mamaa!
Ga-ga-ooh-la-la!
Want your bad romance

Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah-ah!
Roma-roma-mamaa!
Ga-ga-ooh-la-la!
Want your bad romance

I want your ugly
I want your disease
I want your everything
As long as it's free
I want your love
(Love-love-love I want your love)

I want your drama
The touch of your hand
I want your leather-studded kiss in the sand
I want your love
Love-love-love
I want your love
(Love-love-love I want your love)

~Lady Gaga - Bad Romance

Alright, I know other musicians have gotten away with writing a slight variation on the same line over and over again and passing it off as a song, but this Lady isn't even speaking a known language for about 30% of the song.

Next:

Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhh, oh-oh-e-oh-oh-oh
I'll get him hot, show him what I've got
Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhh, oh-oh-e-oh-oh-oh,
I'll get him hot, show him what I've got

Can't read my,
Can't read my
No he can't read my poker face
(she's got me like nobody)
Can't read my
Can't read my
No he can't read my poker face
(she's got me like nobody)

P-p-p-poker face, p-p-poker face
(Mum mum mum mah)
P-p-p-poker face, p-p-poker face
(Mum mum mum mah)

~Lady Gaga - Poker Face

Same idea, only here she used non-words to supplement stuttering and passed that off as singing. Going slightly off-topic, can we address her oft-mentioned sense of "fashion?" I, at least, think her habit of spouting nonsense to a beat is as much an attempt to hide her lack of songwriting ability as wearing ridiculous Halloween costumes, wigs and giant face-covering sunglasses is at hiding the fact that she is busted.

(click for a better view of Rodent GaGa)

Next:

Coming out your mouth with your blah blah blah
Just zip your lips like a padlock
And meet me at the back with the jack and the jukebox
I dont really care where you live at
Just turn around boy and let me hit that
Don't be a little bitch with your chit chat
Just show me where your dick's at

Music's up
Listen hot stuff
I'm in love
With this song
So just hush
Baby shut up
Heard enough

Stop talking that
Blah blah blah
Think you'll be getting this
Nah nah nah
Not in the back of my
Car-ar-ar
If you keep talking that
Blah blah blah blah blah

Boy come on get your rocks off
Come put a little love in my glove box
I wanna dance with no pants on
Meet me in the back with the jack and the jukebox
So cut to the chase kid
'Cause I know you don't care what my middle name is
I wanna be naked
But your wasted

~Ke$ha (Oh dear God.) - Blah Blah Blah

No, Kesha with a dollar sign, the only thing wasted were the aural neurons that just committed seppuku after hearing that crap. Just look at the title of the song, just look at the fucking title!

For the love of God, next!:

Wake up in the mornin' feelin' like P- Diddy (Hey what's up girl)
Grab ma glasses I'm out the door I'm gonna hit the city (Let's go)
Before I leave brush ma teeth with a bottle of Jack
'Cuz when I leave for the night I ain't comin back

I'm talkin pedicure on our toes toes
Tryin on all our clothes clothes
Boys blowin' up our phones phones

Drop top and playin' our favorite CD's
Goin up to the parties
Tryna get a little bit tipsy

Don't stop, make it pop
DJ, blow my speakers up
Tonight, Im'ma fight
Til we see the sunlight
TiK ToK, on the clock
But the party don't stop no
Woah-oh oh oh
Woah-oh oh oh

~ Ke$ha - TiK ToK

The best part can't even be grasped in text format. That part where the music slows down like your audio system just died...oh Kesha with a dollar sign, you're so clever. We get it, your ability to convince people that the crap you come up with and belt out while hungover has earned you hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of dollars. That doesn't mean you should turn said crap into a breakdown of your creative process.

Speaking of which, next:

They tried to make me go to rehab but I said 'no, no, no'
Yes I've been black but when I come back you'll know know know
I ain't got the time and if my daddy thinks I'm fine
He's tried to make me go to rehab but I won't go go go

I'd rather be at home with ray
I ain't got seventy days
Cause there's nothing
There's nothing you can teach me
That I can't learn from Mr Hathaway

I didn't get a lot in class
But I know it don't come in a shot glass

They tried to make me go to rehab but I said 'no, no, no'
Yes I've been black but when I come back you'll know know know
I ain't got the time and if my daddy thinks I'm fine
He's tried to make me go to rehab but I won't go go go

The man said 'why do you think you here'
I said 'I got no idea
I'm gonna, I'm gonna lose my baby
so I always keep a bottle near'
He said 'I just think you're depressed,
this me, yeah baby, and the rest'

~ Amy Winehouse - Rehab

Now keep in mind this was pretty much the breakout hit for Ms. Winehouse, her starting point if you will. That's right, she started at having rehab recommended to her. Those of you that are familiar with this song probably think she should have gone. Those of you that have seen her perform it know she should have.

Alright, I'm going to stop now before I start getting into the Black-Eyed Peas and this article triples in length. But you can help stop this trend by donating your dollars to...actual musicians.

Cause I ain't no hollaback girl, I ain't no hollaback...SON OF A BITCH!