I’d think that the reason some people dislike something that’s popular is because they, themselves, are unpopular. So, they identify with these underground works so that they belong to something — and that something is special and, in a sense, theirs. It becomes a friend. So, then, when this thing works its way up the ladder, the person feels deserted. Suddenly, the one comfort they had that was both a wall and a pillow from the outside world, has disintegrated. It’s morphed into what they could never be. They’re not connected with this thing any longer. Now they are different from each other. And, as we are hurt when friends ditch us to join a more popular group because they are given the chance to, this art — though it never even knows of this person’s existence — becomes a backstabbing friend; one whom is not likely to be easily forgiven.
PS. I mean, of course, the less emotional followers of the underground may just recognize that the art sucks now that it’s become mainstream. But, who’s that smart these days?
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