Welcome to yet another installment of that endlessly renewable supernatural resource, that blister on your psychic bum that just won’t go away, that antidote to what ails you that you weren’t aware ailed you, the eternal Mock to the sublime Woof: Yes, Gentle Reader(s), it’s the Matador Playlist. Ask for it by name, accept no substitute. How long is this Anti-AI ectoplasmic exercise in musical exorcism going to keep on going on on on? For at least one more week, so it seems.