I hate the Academy Awards.
This may come as a surprise for those of you who know that I love movies.
This may NOT come as a surprise for those of you who know that I hate a lot of things for no apparent reason.
"But Phil..." you begin to ask, but I stop you dead in your words with one shushing finger.
It's not that I hate the Academy Awards as much as I hate the Grammies. At least the Academy Awards give independent movies a fighting chance. The Grammies give you a choice between Lil' Wayne and Lady Gaga as artist of the year while people who actually write their own music are trying to make extra money by selling their gold fillings to retired Nazi officers.
It's not that I hate the Academy Awards for the egos of movie stars which they inflate. "Not only is Angelina Jolie a humanitarian for adopting all those children in Haiti, Uganda, North Korea, Cuba, Antarctica, and Jupiter," people will say later that night. "She's an amazing actress!"
It's not the dresses actresses spend thousands of dollars on that are manufatured by the Italian Mafia and then thrown away hours later.
What I hate about the Academy Awards is the amount of random awards they invent and give out.
I imagine "the Academy" sitting in their black robes around their round wooden table carved with Illuminati symbols, high in the mountains of Romania, drinking the tears of orphans, and watching indifferently as peasants fight to their deaths with pitchforks. One of them says, "Did you hear Brittany Murphy died?" Another says, "Yes. Did we ever give her an award?" A third speaks, "We did not." And A fourth suggests, "Let's give her an award for... Damnit! The ribs, you idiot! Jab at the ribs! If you lose, I'm out fifty bucks and your family gets nothing! You hear me?! NOTHING!!! What was I saying? Oh right. How about an award for best portrayal of a blonde girl in a movie called Sin City?" Then all black robed figures chant in unison, "So let it be done."
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