I loathe karaoke

I saw a concert the other night...the hall was nice, but they had karaoke in the bar on the other side of the wall. There came a point in the show when Derek Warfield was talking about James Connolly, who was wounded in the Easter Uprising in 1916 in Ireland. He was captured and, while dying from his wounds, was tied to a chair and shot. One of the young men conscripted by the British Army to become a part of this firing squad was so moved that he wrote a poem about Connolly's bravery. Into the silent spaces that lingered between the verses of the poem, we heard drunken off-key country music from next door. Is nothing sacred? And when you went to the bar, you couldn't hear the concert! The injustice of it is staggering!