So I was just up on the YouTube, checking out some Lee Moses, after reading about him in the Oxford American (dot org . . . the New Yorker of the South!). Then I looked around some more. And you know, if I'm in a bad mood, and I am frequently in bad moods, the comments on YouTube really twist my nipples.
Just who the fuck do people think they are? It's a fair question. They snark around. They throw shade. They just flat out jump in people's shit. You know, from the safety of some secure location somewhere and hiding behind some kind of stupid gig name.
If they talked to people like that in the old days, the face to face days, you'd better hurry up and knew that they would have been so smacked around that they would never have forgetten it. And they'd be more careful next time, too.
Listening to one of the versions of "Ain't Got No," by Nina Simone, the comments got to me, and I added this comment to the mess:
"All of you geniuses that know something about a song and bother other posters about their "ignorance," check that shit at the door. All of you grammar police out there who want to bother people about the English in their posts, get a life, bro. English is hard. Check that shit at the door. And while I'm at it, all of you musicologists out there who want to make value judgments about the relative merit of this version or that version, by this one or that one, dig yourself. Your opinion doesn't mean anything. Check that shit at the door."
That song has thirteen million hits, which is great. Over a thousand "thumbs down," which bodes ill for our entire culture, but still. With so many hits, maybe a few of the offenders will get the message in their e-mails.
Or not. Far be it for me to understand how these things work.