In my undying quest to learn the ways of the guitar, I sought out Ray LaMontagne (aka Ray Mountain (egotistical douche)) guitar lessons on Youtube because my friend Squaw tells me the guy's a musical simpleton of sorts. There were a couple out there, I guess, but what I really became interested in was all the videos people have made of themselves singing. There were dozens of them! What kind of people set up a recording device, position themselves in front of it, and start belting out a song exactly like the original? Assholes. That's what kind. "Hey," I wanted to comment, "You have an amazing talent for copying another person's talent! You should check out my blog. I retyped the whole climax of The Stranger. It looks just like it does in the book." Despite my annoyance, I became obsessed with finding the worst, the best, and the most impromptu (based on the amount of dirty laundry in the recording "studio"). I lost quite a bit of time in my research, and I finally stopped scoffing and snorting with indignation when I came to the sad realization that my guitar had been laying horizontal and unused in my lap for over an hour and that I still don't know how to play any songs. Those guys might be hacks but at least they're not sitting in front of their computers on a Saturday night, trying to be hacks...like me. Sigh. My time will come.