Dear World,

I don’t know what it was or how I missed it, but something terrible happened to you, possibly while I was asleep or in the shower. Somehow (and I blame Prince), it became acceptable to use a symbol instead of a name. At some point (and this is entirely Cher’s fault), audiences decided they’d prefer to hear robots singing. Somewhere along the line (and this is all on David Bowie and Freddie Mercury– even my undying devotion to glam rock can’t absolve them) we, as concert goers, came to expect our performers to wear more glitter than an exotic dancer at a club named Twinkle Town. So it’s time for a sit-down chat, World.

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