“You can’t sing.”

Every now and then I come up with something I feel would make a good quote. A perfect statement or rant that, were I famous, might find its way onto Tumblr or Facebook or something. I’m not famous, and no-one has any especial reason to listen to me – but I felt this quote was worth putting out there anyway. I wish I could stand behind this quote in a lot of ways, I’m not quite this confident and centred and untouchable and full of fraternal sympathies as this might make me seem, but one day I hope to be. I imagine finding myself interviewed and the interviewer saying something like, “You take a lot of heat from trolls on the internet saying that you can’t sing, how does that make you feel?”

“You know what I would like to say to those people who say that I can’t sing? You’re right! I can’t sing! I’d love to sing better, with all my heart. And I am trying to. But I can’t sing. And isn’t that wonderful? That I’m doing what I love regardless of what other people think, and without their approval? That I am seeking happiness and fulfilment for myself without being the kind of person who needs to make judgments or put people down in order to feel better about themselves? Gosh, I mean, it’s just fantastic that I’ll never sing a note in tune so long as it continues to frustrate and confound bigots. And you might try to say that I’m a hypocrite if I retaliate in any way or call these people names, but I’m just calling it as I see it. These people are so often just a vacuum for talent, not putting anything out there themselves,  just trying to criticise and attack and take away from the happiness of people who have the courage to make art, and that’s what makes them the lowest of the low to me. I’m not saying don’t ever express an opinion on someone else’s art, in your head, or to your friends, but don’t go out of your way to let the artist know that you think their art is shit. What purpose, other than you getting pleasure out of making someone feel like dirt, does that serve? Do you think that the artist is going to go, “you know what, you’re right, I’m terrible, I’m just going to go away and make sure that I’m heaps better, and exactly what you want me to be from now on?” Do you even care? If you’re just looking for a fucking art slave you can pay someone for a commission, and so long as you don’t reveal yourself to be the total fucking asshat that you are - everybody wins. The artist gets money (and everyone likes getting paid to do something they enjoy) and you get exactly the art you wanted. But you don’t fucking care. You just want that artist to stop producing art, because it fucking bothers you for some reason. Did someone force you to experience the art that you find so distasteful?  Did someone put you in a detention facility and force you to listen to or view the art? I’m sorry if they did. But does that give you the right to make the human being who produced that art feel like shit? Fuck no, it doesn’t! Be angry at your captors. Listen to a different radio station, watch a different TV channel, go to a different bus stop or whatever. Don’t find the little corner of the Internet or the world where you think the artist’s ego is most vulnerable and tell them that they suck and need to cease and then die. Who the fuck are you, buddy? When you say that shit, know that it just washes right off me, because it says way more about you and your insecurities and issues than it will ever say about my art or me. Wouldn’t it be great if we could join that conversation, instead of joining in on the criticism or trying to “win” an entirely subjective fight? If we could let all of these people know how cowardly and worthless their actions are, and take away all their power? Shield and fortify our artists and help fill the world with more art, and less bigoted, aggressive and pointless derision?”

 – Autumn Hedonia