A while back I mentioned that I was invited to join a group on Facebook that was supposed to be about the quality of sacred music. It could have been a group where we discussed practical solutions to the problems facing us, but instead all the other members wanted to do was complain, and, when they did occasionally try and come up with a solution, it was always prefaced with the three words "Somebody ought to..."
Those words are an infallible touchstone that what is about to come will never happen, and the solution is a fantasy. "Somebody ought to..." who, precisely, should that be? A few years ago a group of musicians and composers along with a few priests issued a joint statement on the state of sacred music which contained a series of recommendations, many of which recommended that the bishops of the world start forking out more money for music without saying where the money would come from. As such, I could say the the plan failed, except I cannot say that it was a plan at all. It was a wish, or an idle daydream. Somebody ought to do this, they were saying. In a sense, they were right, but they were talking to the wrong somebody, because at the end of the day, the only somebody out there is us. That's it.
All the complaints in the world will change nothing. All the chats and talks around the forums of the net will change nothing. All the whims that somebody ought to get to work doing something will change nothing. Getting to work and doing it yourself will probably change nothing, but it has a better chance than the others.