It mighta been nice if you focused on the man's genius any other time than the necrophiliac 50th anniversary of the goddamned plane crash, or, I don't know, maybe during his lifetime? You ignored him during his career, you exploited his lurid death, you've done shit for his legacy except when everybody who thinks they're entitled to a piece of whatever money there is to be made now that he's dead, despite the rights, courage, and dedication with which his widow has preserved his legacy.
And you might pass that along to the goddamned redneck racist opportunist "City Fathers" who rip off his legacy every chance they can get and then scream about "that Messkin woman" when she calls them on their bullshit.
He had another fifty years of musical creativity in him, and he didn't have to die. Why don't you write that story?

Hyenas.
Ah...Amen, brother, amen.
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