Oscar Night! Huzzah.

(Part CLXVII on my “Crotchety Old Man - Gol Darn You Kids Get Off My Grass – I Got My 12-Gauge” Rant Series.)

It was Oscar night last night, and while I knew the contenders, I didn’t watch it. Here’s a posting that shares my opinion of any Oscar celebration since I’ve been alive. Before we get started, I must apologize for the following but with an explanation. While I haven’t played in the punk band for a very long time, the music still flows in my veins so it’s tough to repress my inner iconoclast.

I'm a pretty active movie watcher. Despite the fact that I hardly ever watch TV (not necessarily by my own choosing), I can usually squeeze in a movie now and again. And for some reason, I have this Rainman-like ability to remember movie minutia. But I think I’m like most discriminating movie fans in that moviegoing is a love-hate relationship. Most films are total crap (to be said in the Mike Meyers/SNL Scottish accent), deserving its due loathing. Occasionally something comes along that is vastly entertaining – which after all, is the job of a movie.

Movies were made for man, not man for the movies. I get the impression that movie industry elitists look down their noses at the majority of America because these lowly troglodytes can’t see the nuance, subtlety, art, and often ham-handed moralizing that accompany such high culture. The truth is, most of America loves movies the caliber of National Treasure because it’s entertainment, and that’s it. Most of America doesn’t want or need anything more from Hollywood than that.

Another assumption I've heard from elite-thinking intellectuals is that America doesn’t want to be intellectually challenged by the art-house films, which is why they don’t make money. I agree on all points. It seems that most folks have enough mental and physical challenges in everyday life, and if they are going to plunk down their 10 bucks it better do a good job at distracting them for a moment. I’ve seen enough mainstream and art-house movies to know that very, very few can offer a true intellectual challenge. On the contrary, most result in either a mental stupor or a “well there’s 2 hours I’ll never get back” malaise or both. There’s plenty of challenging and stimulating written material out there anyway. And yeah, I'm just a plebian.

On behalf of plebs everywhere, I will say that art-house film induced mental stupor, depression, and malaise don't send the necessary endorphins to stimulate the plebian brain. I know, it's totally illogical.

Speaking of written material - I think Plutarch’s entry about the Spartan King Agesilaus is fitting here:

Things which [Agesilaus] saw other people admiring he seemed not even to notice. For example, once upon a time Callippides the tragic actor, who had a name and fame among the Greeks and was eagerly courted by all, first met him and addressed him, then pompously thrust himself into his company of attendants, showing plainly that he expected the king to make him some friendly overtures, and finally said: "Your Majesty, do you not recognize me, and have you not heard who I am?" At that Agesilaus fixed his eyes on him and said, "Yes, are you not Callippidas the buffoon [deicelictas]?" That is what the Lacedaemonians call actors.
(Cf. Plutarch's Life of Agesilaus, chap. xxi (607D).)

Take it from the culture who gave us acting. The folks who invented it named the person on the stage the hypocrite, literally. While protesting the Oscars probably produces exactly the opposite than the desired effect, Sean Penn could use a lesson in ancient wisdom: “Now it is not common that the voice of the people desireth anything contrary to that which is right; but it is common for the lesser part of the people to desire that which is not right; therefore this shall ye observe and make it your law—to do your business by the voice of the people.”

The Guilty Taketh the Truth to be Hard

The Nuge cutteth me to the center. Either that or I guess I'm one step closer to my cantankerous old man phase when words like this resonate. Though there is light at the end of that tunnel knowing I'll certainly be as cool as Eastwood in Gran Torino. Man, I can't wait 'til I'm 80.

"My childhood and the man it produced stand in stark contrast to today’s average male. I am saddened by the blatant decay of rugged individualism resulting in a pathetic lack of real boys and real men across America today. I see a preponderance of mealy-mouthed, milquetoast, fat, slow, hunched-over, starry-eyed, zombies everywhere I go: soulless slouchers, softies, wimps, clueless in their pathetic little dependent, whiny, girlyman lives. Hell, just the way many young men carry themselves: sagging, flopping shoulders, shuffling stumbling feet, hanging heads, blank stares, combined with a barely audible mumbling and a total incapacity for any meaningful dialogue makes me crazier than a bear in a nest of hornets. I am convinced that most kids today have never heard the word "posture." Combine that with abandoned table manners and the result is too many kids resembling the chimps they supposedly evolved from.

"We can’t forget that parents produced these failures and didn’t teach or discipline their children to greet people properly, shake hands, or at the very least say a caring, kind “hello.” And with nobody at home or at school telling them any differently, we are seeing reverse evolution at its worst, which of course affects our society. This neglect is rather depressing and terribly indicative of these kids resulting state of mind. It ain’t right. That Ozzy Osbourne’s drug addled, retarded behavior is considered entertaining is both sad and pathetic. At least Koko the gorilla could occasionally push a blue button and get food. These losers can’t open a can of soup."
-Ted Nugent