And The Nomination Goes To:

Once again, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences chose not to poll me when asking to select the best films and performances of this past year. I see a lot of movies. Not as many as I used to, and nowadays they tend to skew to more family entertainment, but I feel pretty firm in my convicitons and ability to judge disprate pieces of art on a completely objective level. I have a subscription to Entertainment Weekly.
Okay, that part about being objective? Forget that. It's impossible. I learned that long ago from George C. Scott. In 1971 he blew off his Oscar for "Patton," calling the Oscars "a two-hour meat parade." He didn't attend. Three years later, Marlon Brando sent Sacheen Littlefeather to stir things up by turning his acceptance into a protest moment. Perhaps unwittingly, these two giants of American Cinema helped to shine a light even more brightly on the Academy Awards. Woody Allen has only bothered to show up twice, even though he has been nominated twenty-one times, beginning way back in 1977. It took him twenty-five years to make it to the big show himself, preferring instead to take the stage at Manhattan's Carlyle Hotel to play clarinet with his New Orleans Jazz Band.
But back to me: Why didn't anyone ask me who should win this year's Best Picture? Perhaps because I am too much a part of the pop culture firmament, and I would probably vote for some silliness like "Iron Man" or "Tropic Thunder." Robert Downey Jr. probably doesn't need this particular golden bone after the year he's had, but again, nobody asked me.
And that's okay, because you can bet your King Size box of Junior Mints that I will be happily ensconced in front of my TV on February 22, watching with a mix of awe and disdain for the industry that loves to love itself.