In Defense of the Critic

Being a critic is a thankless job, most often. I admire real life critics who do it for a living. After all, it is the ultimate “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” profession¹. You are always going to hurt someone, cross someone off. Let me get straight to the point, for once, and only just this once.

I was accused, recently, of criticizing things far too much, having no authority in the fields I am criticizing people for, and while that is completely true, the premise is utter bullshit.

For the sake of coherence, which I doubt too many of my readers are comfortable with, I will go about this in logical sequence, another thing brainwashed sheep have difficulty doing. Having accepted the criticism that I have no authority in the fields I choose to criticize people in, the proposition on the table is that I should graciously accept defeat and cease any further attempts at criticizing things I do not understand. Well, I am willing to accept that proposition, but only as long as my one condition is met, and anyone with half a rational brain (again, it would appear I am singing to the tone deaf) would agree that what I am about to suggest isn’t too unfair.

So, all those of you, anxious to know the key to shutting me up, hear me well. The same rules must apply to you as well. Since none of you are authorities on music, movies, literature, politics, cars and practically everything under the sun, YOU HAVE TO SHUT THE FUCK UP as well. When you stop opining about how good the latest Michael Bay fiasco is, or how good Ledger’s joker was (oh, what a bitter-sweet was that is), or how great Michael Jackson’s mediocre song and dance styles really are (if you take out the pop out of it), then I will follow suit. When you admit that you have no basis to be showering laurels on these sorry excuses for “artists” and that you will forever purse your lips regarding your personal attempts to glorify these people, I will lay down my pen.

Before I end, I must clear the air. My comments on my facebook status message etc, about the mediocrity of the pedophilic Michael Jackson as an artist, were hardly to stir shit up. That is my true opinion. Would the world have lost out if Michael never sung a single note? Not mine. And while it is politically incorrect to diss the dead, I have never cared for being politically correct. So here is a big fuck you to Michael Jackson fans, and a vehement fuck you to Sacha Baron Cohen and Universal for bending over backwards. If you can’t handle the witty and not so witty snipes at “MJ” (funny, how that is so similar to OJ) then don’t fucking watch TV, don’t visit my blog and definitely DO NOT click on this next link.

Another contribution of MJ to pop-culture is definitely his contribution to costume design on movie sets, having inspired the alien in M. Shyamalan's Signs and the instantly noticeable Joker, from the crap-chute that was The Dark Knight.

Yes Michael, I know “You’re bad”. Now if we can only get rid of the Catholic Church, the kids will be safe.

And for those looking for a moment of sensitivity, Billy Mays just died last month as well. He will be missed. He did have a soothing voice. Or he just nagged the fuck out of you till you bought something. But he will still be missed by me; Funny guy.

1. Unfortunately, the professional critics are just whored out publicists. I have yet to come across a decent review of a “mega-hype” movie that does justice to the profession, whether it be favorable or not.
   
   
2. I was thinking about calling this post, “Fuck You, Michael Jackson”. Only one thing prevented me. The possibility that he really was a pedophile and that a title like that might be insensitive to the plight of the kids whose lives MJ touched.