Dear Self-Congratulatory Hollywood Bung Holes,
How freaking dare you.
Do you not watch the news? The economy is stuck in the toilet. Gas is $27 per gallon. Jeremy Lin was not in the NBA All-Star Game, which is just Lin-sanity of the highest order and will probably result in the end of the world being moved up to early October. We're all going to die, like, yesterday.
How dare you stand up there on stage and wear your fancy borrowed jewels and fancy borrowed dresses in these times of strife. It was fine when you were doing this back in the mid-90's because we all had money back then and we could take out a fourth mortgage on our house to buy the clothes and jewels to make us look like you, but now? Nope. Also, you had Bruce Willis back then, and he was pretty cool.
Now you're handing out statues to a French guy. A FRENCH guy. I can't even with this. Why are you trying so hard to make us the Soviet Union, Hollywood? Why are you shipping good, well-paying American acting jobs overseas?
All millionaire Hollywood types should be locked inside an igloo in Alaska or somewhere until there are no more problems in the world. Never mind that their movies provide a lot of entertainment for a lot of people. Never mind that the box office numbers are up this year (Aside: Team Peeta). Never mind that for some people the Oscars are equal to the Super Bowl. We do not want what you are selling. We like our millionaires on a field where we can pay to see them ram into each other and chase balls in tight spandex pants. The millionaires are in the pants. Not the balls. Well, not all of the balls.
We also like our millionaires running for president and giving money to us on Shark Tank and going undercover to cook chicken along side Courtney, the 17-year-old mother of three who is working her way through her G.E.D. We also like our millionaire aunts when they die and leave us lots of cash.
We do not like our millionaires in fancy clothes on a stage giving awards to French guys.
I know I don't have to go on the Internet and complain about the Oscars in a long-winded rant, but then how would anyone know about my righteous indignation about 9 movies I did not see and have no desire to see?
What's that? The Help was nominated? Oh, I liked that one.
Carry on then.