"Don't you hate those people who have to know absolutely everything about music?" started last week's opinion column. My answer? No. No, I do not. And the fact that anyone would answer "yes" has me physically angry.

I've stared at my keyboard for an hour, waiting for my boiling blood to cool down enough to allow me to type. I've seen this attitude for years, but I refuse to accept it. I can't wrap my head around this notion of using the "it's just my opinion" excuse to avoid actual thought.

Yes, the column mainly discussed how elitism moves into snobbery, which I agree is wrong. But the underlying feeling behind that statement is what worries me. What, exactly, is wrong with holding musicians, or anyone, to high standards of quality?

I don't tell people what to listen to. I ask why they listen to the music they do. Nothing is more frustrating than the fact that people don't back it up.

"I just like it," people say. As if, because it's 'just' music, there is no reason to think about what you're digesting.

People just accept whatever trash is on the radio as long as it has a steady beat and is moronically simple enough to remember.

People are unwilling to be challenged, and then get mad at an 'elitist' like me for actually wanting something more substantial. How dare I!

Yes, I listen to indie. But I also love jazz, folk, punk, pop and hip-hop. I look for creativity and passion in music, no matter what genre it may be.

But another attitude has shaped today's music scene. Every time the "it's just music" excuse is used to justify a bad song, it's feeding into the system. Why should a musician toil away in obscurity innovating music when they can churn out drivel and hit the top of the charts?

I'm not saying it's a quick change. Compare the quality of the top 10 in the 60s to today. Can you honestly say, on any objective level, that more creativity and songcraft went into "London Bridge" than went into, say, a Beatles song? Is a Nickelback song a more interesting piece of work than "Good Vibrations"?

Somewhere along the line, a popular band was a little simpler than the Beatles. The next band realizes, "Hey, we can bash out a few chords, harmonize a little, and have us a hit." The quality declines. The next band lowers its standards from the lowered standard. Before you know it, Fergie has a number one single.

With the amount of good music out, the success of something that bad is mind-boggling.

It's like bringing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to a five-star restaurant.

It's like letting the barber's sugar-rushed toddler son cut your hair with safety scissors.

With today's attitude, I feel like Beethoven -- if born today -- would probably be reduced to doing some sort of string arrangement for Panic! at the Disco just to make ends meet.

If you, God forbid, enjoy Fergie's music, ask yourself why. Is it an interesting piece of music? Is it something original? Are the lyrics good? Is it catchy on any level beyond annoying repetition of inane phrases? Or do you just like it because it's on the radio and you can tap your foot to it?

Sometimes people get creative with the "it's just fun" excuse, which is my second most-hated response. I love fun music, too. But I like fun music that sounds more sophisticated than a kindergartner banging on pots and pans and singing nursery rhymes.

But, above all, don't dare say, "I just like it." Every time you tolerate bad music, you're discouraging creativity. You're continuing the cycle, leading us into a state where mediocrity is celebrated and innovation falls on deaf ears.

Apathy breeds creative stagnation. If you answered "yes" to that question, you're blaming people who care and praising indifference.

I may be a bit of a snob, but at least my standards for enjoying music involve more thought than "Well, it's on the radio, isn't it?"