On That Up With Which We Should Not Have to Put

"Rock musicians really are a pathetic lot," says Ben Weasel, commenting on the Grammys, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, etc.:

Playing in a band is itself nothing more than a convoluted way to stroke your own ego. How much is enough? What does it take for a multi-millionaire rock star to say to himself, gee, maybe it's a bit silly for me to accept the award for the best album of the year considering that I'm the beneficiary of a rigged system that isn't even vaguely interested in the existence of the hundreds and hundreds of amazing albums that were released in the same year just because they committed the sin of existing outside the magic circle of the Big 4?

Think about the unmitigated hubris it takes to stand up on national television and shake your own hand for ostensibly having made a better record than everybody else that year (according to the people who need to sell the idea that your record is brilliant in order to make more money). Now consider that most of the great records released that year never got a chance to be heard solely because the people who made them weren't as good at being businessmen as the guys mugging for the cameras at the podium. Doesn't it kind of make you want to puke?
I second that emotion, if emotion is the word I want...

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