I used to be mad at Jason Reitman. Now, I don't like the man's films, but that's no reason to be mad at someone you haven't met.
No, I was mad at Jason Reitman because he was Ivan Reitman's son; because here Mary and I were, struggling independent filmmakers, without advantages, without connections, without wealth, getting nowhere, and there he was, being nominated for Oscars. Not that I wanted Oscars. But you get what I mean.
The thing is-- and it took me longer than I'd like to admit to come around to this-- that's not a reason to be mad at someone, either. I wasn't born with the same advantages that he has, but if I was, I certainly would use them: it'd be foolish not to. Every filmmaker, indie or otherwise, calls in favors and uses whatever edge they have to get the film done. Every person does this, to do the things they want in this life-- they exploit whatever advantages life has given them to further their own goals and desires. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that.
I can be mad that I didn't get those advantages, but it's no reason to begrudge anyone else their good fortune. And in the end, it's what you do with those advantages that count. I might not care for Reitman's films, but somebody does, a lot of somebodies, or else they wouldn't be putting bottoms in seats. Nobody gets anywhere-- or rather, stays there-- without working at it. (And some work awfully hard without ever getting much of anywhere. So it goes.)
So, stop worrying about whether or not somebody "deserves" their success or their notoriety, internet. And stop being Mr. Snarky Pants about it.