me, looking sternly at iTunes: I just want to BACK UP this phone. I do not want you to, in any way, decide you know how to manage the music, books, or anything else on this phone. you are to make a COPY of the phone. you are to leave the fucking music alone. I swear to fucking god, I will incarnate you into a physical form, I will lock your tulpa into flesh, and I will scatter a thousand- no, a million action figures under your feet, every day, until you are free from your fleshly prison.