OSCAR ROUNDUP: Reading John Podhoretz’s column on the Oscars really pounds home what I missed by going to a movie rather than watching their awards ceremony. Apparently, I wasn’t alone–since the ratings were the lowest ever. Which is why…
Matt Drudge says that Whoopi Goldberg is done as a host.
“Whoopi will likely be the fall gal,” a top network source said the morning after the night before. “Next year, we want one person: Oprah Winfrey! It would be great!”
Just as NBC TONIGHT SHOW host Jay Leno has emerged as a new favorite to host the Oscars among influential Academy insiders.”
Meanwhile, the Happy Fun Folks over at Happy Fun Pundit say:
There has been much written today about various problems with last night’s awards, such as “In The Bedroom” being shut out, “Lord of the Rings” only winning a few technical awards, having to look at Whoopi Goldberg for four and a half hours, etc.
But most of the pundits are missing the real problem with the awards, which is that THEY ARE GIVEN OUT TO FREAKING MOVIE PEOPLE! It’s like God himself came down and said, “You know what the problem is with movie people? Their egos just aren’t big enough. How can we create a gigantic televised cluster jerk that will ensure that these clowns make even more outrageous demands and drag around even larger entourages of sycophants and losers? Because if there is one thing I can’t stand, it’s a humble Hollywood star.”
They suggest replacing the Oscars with the Skunkies, an award show named after the Lockheed Skunk Works.
UPDATE: Group Captain Lionel Mandrake links to an astonishing rant in Salon by Cintra Wilson. I can’t help but read this and think that if this tone was used in say, National Review, the outcry would be staggering. Here’s an excerpt:
The Academy sensed this attitude was lurking like a murky cloud of spiritual unease over Middle Earth, and it is my (admittedly hostile) perception that they said to themselves, “Well, the Oscars are already fucked this year, so let’s honor our Negroes! It’s been a while. Call Whoopi.”
I used to call it the “Noble Cripple and Spade Year” — it comes around every five years or so. When the Oscar Winner’s alumni circle starts to look like the meeting table in “Judgment at Nuremberg,” the Academy devotes a year to not looking like racist, Aryan-celebrity-eugenics-worshipping, cracker peckerwoods, and either gives an Oscar for the best dribbling retard performance, or jerks us off with a big, obvious, Slather the African-Americans With Trophies orgy to make up for the previous insulting, five-to-seven-year stretch when barely anybody of color was recognized at all, for anything.