Nobody bats an eye when I make AIDS and Hitler jokes anymore, but the moment I criticize a charity single, I get screamed at for being insensitive. I have refused to buy either of the “It” Charity Singles of the moment benefiting Haiti earthquake relief: the “Everybody Hurts” cover organized by Simon Cowell and the rerecording of “We Are The World,” performed by every musician on the planet (and Vince Vaughn, for some inexplicable reason). Why? Because they are awful, awful songs.

“But Becky!” you tell me, a judgmental look in your eye. “It’s for chaaaaaaaarityyyyy! Have a heart!” Hey, I’m not against donating to worthy causes. If you’ve got extra money to spend and you choose to help people instead of buying that awesomely pointless $150 Monkey Head from The Sharper Image catalogue, I certainly won’t judge you.

But why do we feel forced to buy something just because “it’s for charity,” regardless of the quality? Why don’t I sell my Rainbow Brite rollerskates I got in fifth grade for Haiti earthquake relief, too? Three wheels are missing and the tips of both laces are broken off. Oh, you don’t want them because they are in poor condition and have nothing to do with the current desperate situation in Haiti? Well, now you know how I feel being obligated to purchase these insufferable charity singles.

Charity singles, no matter how much money they raise, are not sacred to me. While everyone else tiptoes around the fact that these songs are a big ole mess, let’s forget they are acts of goodwill and judge them on their own merits as a song, shall we?

The “Everybody Hurts” cover is an obnoxious attempt at Cowell self-promoting his X Factor and Britain’s Got Talent darlings, so I won’t blame any of the talent involved since they are basically Simon Cowell’s slaves. Plus, I already own R.E.M’s original song, so why would I pay money to listen to a vastly inferior version? (I learned my lesson from purchasing the Mamma Mia! soundtrack—sorry, Meryl Streep, you’re wonderful, but you are no ABBA.)

“Everybody Hurts” feels irrelevant, but it’s relatively harmless compared to the eight-minute, 85-person catastrophe that is “We Are The World.” I’m wondering if Lionel Richie and Quincy Jones just sent an Evite around to everyone in their address books with the subject heading: “Charity Single Recording – BYOB!!!” Some of the iconic artists who were invited to join this cacophony of noise include Katherine McPhee, Miley Cyrus, the lead skank from the Pussycat Dolls, something called Iyaz, and opening the song is 15-year old teen sensation Justin Bieber, whose hairstyle makes him look like he’s perpetually standing in front of a wind tunnel. I’m sure all of these singers are destined to win multiple Lifetime Achievement Grammys.

The inclusion of dozens of flash-in-the-pan talent isn’t even the most embarrassing part. It’s Wyclef Jean’s scream-yodeling verse (which might be sung in Haitian Creole, but that doesn’t make it any less grating on the ears). No wait, it’s that Lil Wayne, a man who sounds he’s got a bag of sand down his throat, was given his own solo. Strike that, it’s Michael Jackson singing with his sister Janet from beyond the grave. No, it has to be the copious amounts of Auto-Tune, added to make the song relatable to today’s kids who play with their T-Pain iPhone App all day. Actually, the most groan-worthy part is Vince Vaughn wandering in after a long night of heavy drinking and hiding in the back row til he can find his pants and leave. How can I take this song seriously with the bloated dude from Wedding Crashers mumbling along with a robot voice rapping about the troubles of Haitians? I have major second hand embarrassment for everyone involved.

Of course, if my bitchy little opinions actually had any sway and this musical garbage was never recorded, millions of people would be out millions of dollars and resources. So it’s probably better I have absolutely no power.

So if you want to help Haiti, donate. But remember, there are a lot of other places than iTunes to put your money. And in ten years, when you look back at your digital music collection, you won’t be mortified that you own a Justin Bieber song.