Very superstitious, writing's on the wall

I caught only a mere few minutes of the Grammys. Enough to make me thoroughly disgusted with the way the music business has become.

Here's my rantings about the demise of the music industry; and subsequently why the Grammys are pointless:

1. Who cares if there was a "domestic dispute" between suave Chris Brown and the phenomenal Rihanna (note: I do like Rihanna, not so fond of Mr. Brown).
   
2. Blink-182, once a great teenage angst band, half-ass-edly announced that they "once played music together, and now we're going to play music together again." On their news site, MTV said,
   " 'Blink-182 is back!' frontman Mark Hoppus yells." Well, if anyone watched the shambles that were the Grammys one would know that a.) Hoppus was not that enthusiastic, b.) there was maybe one scream after the announcement, 3.) so-called "estranged" guitarist Tom DeLonge looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.

3. I now have a personal grudge against Disney-pop princes the Jonas Brothers. Never, ever, ever, do you even attempt to upstage the great Stevie Wonder. And for the record boys, don't attempt "Superstitious" either.

And finally, Coldplay didn't deserve "Best Rock Album" over The Raconteurs, or Kings of Leon for that matter. Guess that's showbiz for ya.
Category should have been, "Best Over-Produced Studio Piece."

All I have to say about this "show" is -- ugh.