My Right To Bitch.

People feel they're entitled to the oddest of things. I was surfing through Youtube when I came upon a video where the audio was drastically out of sync. The deluge of comments that followed all berated and harassed the uploader. They left comments such as, "way to waste my time" and "nice out of sync video, and the asshole doesn't have the decency to fix it".

Whoa now, hold the phone! Did you just scorn someone who took time out of their day, and made an attempt to share a laugh? What right do we as the unindustrious audience have to complain? We're not paying for this service, it's not our cable TV on the fritz. This is a free website kept alive by the ingenuity and drive of people who ask for nothing but your attention in return. Belittling uploaders because their content does not adhere to your standards is utterly absurd.

Why is it that the unwashed masses always feel entitled to so much when they offer so little in return? If I made a claim about the nature of space-time, and got it printed in a scientific journal, and then had Stephen Hawking call me up and say I was wrong, that'd be okay. What isn't okay is when we - who aren't in the business of creating - decide it's our right to say what is and isn't good. This is often why I've never given much heed to critics of either films or music. To be a critic assumes they know better than I do what I would like. Granted, there are times when critics make such safe calls that it hardly warrants their purpose in the first place. Any of the B-Rated horror flicks of days passed are atrocious, and critics say they're atrocious. The audience that enjoys those types of movies often see them because they're bad, sort of like smoking a cigarette or getting drunk at a party. There's no quantifiable justification for those things, other than they are fun.

Another factor that's important to keep in mind is the effort spent by those involved. Being involved in a few productions at the high school level I am all too aware of the degree of heart and drama (pun sort of intended) that goes into the manifestation of a performance. You forge friendships with people that you are working with for months on end and they become a surrogate family. When the production is finally ready to be put on display, there were many of us who no longer cared there was an audience. The conception and labour involved with the project were rewards in their own right, and seeing a play take its first few steps made all the time and work worthwhile. Sure, lots of people won't like the play and many may even hate it; we didn't care at that point.

The question then becomes what purpose does the critic, the stage-side heckler serve? For those involved in the art don't care, and people will choose to see whatever they want to. So who are they helping? Ultimately I must assume they are doing it for themselves, much like the performers. Their art, their craft is writing and the creation of thought into word. Their subject matter is certainly moot, but that doesn't mean they're not as whole-heartedly invested in the end product as their screen-based affairs.

As for the people on Youtube taking the time to log in and post what can only be described as derisive and useless, I ask that each and every one of them upload a video and prostrate themselves before the beast of a thousand mouths, and ten thousand fingers.

The internet is no country for the weak hearted and mushy minded. It will eat you up and spit you out like a tobacco-chewing camel.