So the Grammys happened.

If you're a serious music fan—the kind who goes to shows all the time, reads blogs on the daily, acquires handfuls of new albums and MP3s per week—do you really care about the Grammy Awards™©®? I mean, sure, the show itself can sometimes offer a moment of spectacle or two (OMG, Lady Gaga wore a thing!), and every once in a while someone truly deserving or unexpected wins (congrats, Phoenix). But on the whole, it's always the same predictable big music-biz back-patting sesh, the best bits of which you can watch on the internet the next day, the results of which are more or less meaningless if what you're actually interested in is music as opposed to celebrity.

Anyzzzzz, in the interest of fixing the Grammys—not as in rigging them, which the academy can take care of itself (I kid), but as in correcting—I present a few things from this year's show that might've been done differently.

What happened: Lady Gaga dueted with Elton John; also something inarticulate about the "Fame Factory" (as opposed to the high school from Fame) and the spectator's complicity in celebrity culture.

What should have happened: Björk and the Knife team up to show everyone what crazy outfits and sexually ambiguous post-pop really looks like; Lady Gaga comes up with something new to say about the Society of the Spectacle or shuts up about it; Elton John stays home and draws a nice hot bath.

What happened: Michael Jackson's insanely cloying "Earth Song" (yeah, MJ, what about rainbows?) was performed by his disembodied voice along with Celine Dion, Usher, Jennifer Hudson, and Carrie Underwood, all backed by a 3-D video of some unmolested FernGully rainforest being explored by a (hopefully also unmolested) child.

What should have happened: 3-D enhanced re-creation of the 1996 Brit Awards performance of "Earth Song," featuring a hologram Michael Jackson, complete with Jarvis Cocker storming the stage to pantomime passing wind—but in 3-D!

What happened: Pink, as part of some linen-swathed, Cirque du Soleil soft-rock number, was dipped into a giant vat of goo, first six rows got wet.

What should have happened: Pink, as part of some linen-swathed, Cirque du Soleil soft-rock number, is dipped into a giant vat of carbonite, frozen, delivered to Jabba the Hutt.

What happened: Beyoncé marched onstage flanked by a battalion of riot-geared storm troopers to sing "If I Were a Boy," grabbed crotch, segued into Alanis Morissette's "You Oughta Know."

What should have happened: Beyoncé reactivates both the S1Ws and the Rhythm Nation soldiers to hold the Grammys hostage, grabs crotch, sings a Barenaked Ladies medley.