aquaboob3 is a twit and doesn't really warrant the acknowledgement of existance beyond the points I've made for his (et al) edification, other than to say that a troll is a troll.
The ignorance of youth is quite often forgivable as the favour of the aged, neglected... but a fukwit dweeb need only be recognized and dismissed as just noise in the background of life, such as the passing of wind by and old man on the street corner.
His ilk are the half implied continued ruination of this industry. They don't even know enough to comprehend that the end is clearly in sight and yet they contiune to roll unobstructed and oblivious toward the point of no return, on the slippery slope of erradication of individual and societal rights.
In this case, the folly of youth is deserving of so much more than a simple swat on the bottom. Yea my brother, the need is of a good old fashioned ass whoopin to turn their eyes teary in the wake of the reality that the easily begotten "fun and fame" they so desperately seek, is on the verge of collapsing into oblivion.
What shall these children do when all that is theirs to see and own is pablum for the masses controlled for so many by so utterly few? They shall sit in their own wreched stench and whine, or they will likely say nothing at all. There shall be no cheese with their whine. The only whine shall likely be that they long of the good old days when they still had time to fix things and all they did was place their opposable s up their collective anal sphincter's.
If they are as fortunate enough to grow a spine and out shall sprout the testicular fortutude to even breed another generation... maybe THEN will their offspring see and identify the ogre behind the facad. Maybe then will the curtain be pulled back to reveal the lost art of what music is and always has been.
And again, I would remind you that the troll neither sleeps nor feeds enough that it is satified to the the point that it becomes complacent enough to just go away. They continue be the constant irritation such as a festering pestule caused by constant attention paid to a splinter in the ass from setting on the bleachers of life... The end result is in the necessary call for assistance to remove said irritant from the gluteus maximus...
...but they are fun to torment and rant upon while they are here!