If these people want to write stupid lists when they're not picking peanuts out of poo, let them. I find
critics/journalists loathsome for the fact that they are
self appointed, unqualified plebians who feel that society must have someone to taste the food first and then offer unsolicited commentary on it's fitness for mass consumption.
A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. (Unless that name happens to be Crawford!)
As for bad songs, I still find 'Living on the Ceiling' by Blancmange has me climbing the walls.
