Is it like the one I feel when a post-apocalyptic lumberjack moaning through his nose about how shit everything is is held up constantly as a master of his craft, usually by people who tell me so while dismissing anyone and everyone who became after he died as a phoney, flash-in-the-pan, manufactured hack? Why yes, I think it just might be!

For the sake of clarity: I'm not suggesting you've done that, at least not within earshot of me. I'm suggesting that this is my common experience with musos of a certain age.

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"She's old, she's lame, she's barren too, // "She's not worth feed or hay, // "But I'll give her this," - he blew smoke at me - // "She was something in her day." -- Garnet Rogers, Small Victory

FiMFiction.net: we might accept blatant porn involving the cast of My Little Pony but as God is my witness we have standards.

Nirvana's existence is also directly to blame for that of Nickelback. Prosecution rests, m'lud.