‘Bred Crumbs

In case you didn’t get that my post-Oscar post was knowingly irrational, your first clue should have been the use of the word "grudge."

I’m not repenting or recanting, no; I was disappointed and surprised, and felt like venting. Now it’s a day later, and a cooler head has prevailed. It knows that picking Crash over Brokeback Mountain wasn’t the big mistake here. (Hell, maybe Crash was a better movie. But I’ll never know.)

The mistake, of course, was attaching significance to the Oscars in the first place.

In the category of entertainment awards, the Oscars are, it seems, my last weakness. All else I have come to treat with the appropriate lack of regard. I pay no attention to the Golden Globes. I rarely even know when the Grammys are on. And despite being raised on TV, I’ve completely quit the Emmys. And everyone who writes to TV Guide whining about whether the Emmys will ever give [insert low-rated cult-favorite show here] its due would be advised to do the same. An awards body’s opinions of your favorite show shouldn’t matter to you. (Neither should this website’s.)

And it’s time that, instead of gathering around the dreadful Oscarcast every year and memorizing lists of non-losers past, we start consigning the political decisions of the self-congratulatory Academy to the bin of meaninglessness where they belong. I’ve got some "me" work to do here too. I think I let the Lord of the Rings sweep lure me back to giving a crap, but I’ve learned my lesson. Except to the person giving the speech, winning the gold man is nothing. Let Crash join Million Dollar Baby, A Beautiful Mind, and The Last Emperor – anointed, supposed Best Pictures that have no real lasting legacy except among Oscar stat-heads. I’ve now done three Oscar posts too many. Move along. There’s nothing to see here.

Host Busters

Actually, the Oscars did perform one useful service: it provided a handy assessment of which TV critics to disregard from here on out — the ones who dissed Jon Stewart’s hosting job. Stewart was, as you would expect, right on. Pointed without being mean, beautifully self-deprecating, sharp and alert, and funny, funny, funny. To those who found him wanting: what the hell do you expect here? You realize this show is a laundry list of awards nominees, right? You know that if they jazz it up again with excruciating musical numbers, you’re going to bitch just as much, don’t you? And if some of the "stars" didn’t get with the game, they can park their sequined asses at home next time, can’t they?

But whatever. Go ahead, bring back Billy Effing Crystal. That will just help me ignore this all the more easily.

OK, One More Thing …

Hey, Academy, the whole pushy great-movies-must-be-seen-on-the-big-screen thing? Really pathetic.