On Sunday night, a group of artists — some in various states of undress — came together to pat themselves on the back for making and selling a lot of music. What transpired was a televised resistance revival in a cathedral built on empty platitudes and slogans. And the hymns were woefully auto-tuned. The general public knows it as the Grammys. Any good performances or moments were overshadowed by mass moral preening from the movers and shakers of the music industry, which is not exactly