How can one assign a number to a work of art? To sum up its beauty, horror, ideas, concepts, provocation, style, and execution by one single symbol is absurd and fails to amount to any real sort of meaning. Art must be observed and absorbed, not graded. Hey Picasso, I feel that this new one deserves a 6.5, clearly not as good as your last painting, which was a 7! Crazy talk, right?

So why do so many critics subject themselves to a generic ratings system to critique music, movies, books, games, and other forms of art? Yes, these are products, and yes, it may please the consumer to be able to rely on an informed opinion to make a quick decision on something they may intend to buy. But doesn’t a ratings system miss the point completely and possibly rip off the consumer? A review of a product should be meant to educate the consumer, and although a rating can aid this process at times, it seems more of a crutch than a guide.

I know that when I look at an issue of say, Rolling Stone, who use a star rating system, I will pass on reading about any lower rated album that I have not heard of and even most of the higher rated. Four stars, two-and-a-half stars, what have you... I would push through the section as fast as possible, making a pit stop whenever there was a familiar name above the rating. Not the best thing to do as a critic, but quite an easy habit to fall into with that sort of system in place. It’s not that the star system is terrible, but everyone has their own opinion of how many stars is worthy, employing an easy pass and excuse to skip over a review virtually forces me to miss something that I may have formed a completely different opinion on. Thrice’s Vheissu, for example, is one of my favorite albums ever. At the time of its release, Rolling Stone marked the album with a meager two out of five stars. Had I not heard of Thrice, I would not have given it a second look and missed out on a record that is very important to me.

With the inception of Rotten Tomatoes and MetaCritic, websites that compile review scores from many different sources, creating an average score for a particular product, people have an even faster route to forming an opinion on something they haven’t tried for themselves. Although an average of many ideas and scores solves the possibility of a difference in opinion with just one person, it seems to fuel the fire for snobs who like to pretend they know what they’re talking about. “Oh, well, it has a 73 percent on Rotten Tomatoes, so it’s not worth my time.” Six-String Samurai sits at 58 percent currently, but goddammit, I love that movie. Not that it’s meant to be a profound film, so maybe that’s a bad example. How about Vanilla Sky? Can’t beat crazy dude Tom Cruise alongside one of my favorite ladies, Ms. Penélope Cruz! 39 percent... Ouch. Another personal gem I may have passed up just because some people had their panties in a bunch.

Not only is it absurd to assign a numerical value to art, it’s also just as batty to expect this scale to cross all mediums. For instance, according to our ratings in one issue last semester, Saints Row 2 was better than a Tom Waters book and the newest Queen album, but could not live up to Kenny Rogers’ latest effort. A numerical ratings system is completely black and white for your skimming pleasure. Well, 21 shades of black and white. Does a “six” speak to you about cinematography, sound engineering, and game replayability? Beyond my observation that many forget that there are six numbers before a rating of “seven” comes along, I think it’s ludicrous to assume one magical number can even begin to summarize all of these ideas.

Should the writer be blamed for this? Possibly. But I wasn’t about to start changing people’s scores in an attempt to justify a number scale that just sort of floats in the air in my mind. I didn’t review the product, I could not gauge their feelings based on my own interpretation of the numbers. At Generation, we have had many different ratings systems over the years, ranging from no scores to five “G’s.” All have their own merits, but I felt it was time to try something new. Thus, “The Flatline” has come along.

“The Flatline” is basically our feelings on the bottom line of a product. Meant to be short and straight to the point, it is pipeline from our strong hand to your brain. Rather than telling you how to feel via some arbitrary digit, we now leave you with words of wisdom. That’s right, you have to read.

I’ve perused some other publications that have employed a similar system, and continuously find myself reading every part of their after-article summary, even if I had never heard of the product under fire. This not only opens my eyes to new things that I may have passed up because of ratings, but it also helps me quickly connect with the individual writers, comparing their own tastes to mine. Happy days! Plus, if a summary is well written or intriguing, following up with a full read-through of the review is irresistible to me. I hope that this new system ushers in the same for you. We’re big fans of words around here, and any format that may help us in getting our own out there, is certainly a welcome thought.