The Fredösphere

So this Haydn thing came on the radio this morning:  Divertimento for horn, violin and cello in E flat major.  For the thousandth time, I exert myself to give Haydn a chance, to look for whatever it is that other people (including certain very respectable people) admire in this man's music.  For the thousandth time, I do not find it -- because it's not there!  This miserable little tune (hear a bit here) wanders around pointlessly for a while, as Haydn's tunes are wont to do, then expires in a spasm of futility.

Folks, it's time I used my powers.  You know:  my powers.  I will exert myself to change history.  Tonight, I will arrange for an unfortunate fatal accident to befall a certain special child who was one year old in the year 1733.  When we wake up tomorrow, the music of Haydn will no longer exist.  All memory of him will be erased.  His pernicious influence on the music of Mozart and Beethoven will be washed away.

Oh, joy!  My only regret will be that I didn't act sooner.