Awards Season Nonsense

Golden Globe Hosts Tina Fey and Amy Pohler

I don't know if it's age-induced cynicism, bitterness or just an increasing awareness about what's really important in life, but I have come to loathe the entertainment Awards Season and the shows which present said awards.

It honestly seems ridiculous to me to offer up awards for any art form, especially since art is so very subjective. I may love a film; TV show; play; musical; painting; song; album; composition;  sculpture or installation that you absolutely detest. Or vice-versa. You might find something uproariously funny while I find it repulsively disgusting. I may be moved to tears by a poem or novel, while you simply shrug your shoulders and say "Huh?" No one else I know is as fascinated by Dali's "The Discovery of America by Christopher Columbus" as I am. And that's as it should be. Art (and one's response to it) may be one of the few truly individual things we have.

Here's a very personal example: Dear D's favorite actor is Sylvester Stallone and his favorite movie of all-time is Rocky. I have no favorite actor (really, how can one?) and my favorite film of all-time is Bringing Up Baby. If I did have a 'favorite actor,' I can assure you it wouldn't be Stallone. That doesn't mean Stallone hasn't been in some highly entertaining films. It also doesn't mean that every film he's been in, has been bad. Or even that the bad film's in which he's appeared weren't entertaining. Demolition Man is by no means be 'high art,' but I was amused and entertained by it (though, unlike D, I don't have 3 seashells in my bathroom - no matter how hilarious I may find it). 

Awarding folks for their achievements is hardly new. And while I wouldn't be opposed to winning an award of any kind, I imagine that winning a Nobel or Pulitzer or even an Olympic medal would mean much more to me than a Golden Globe, Critics' Choice or Academy Award. While awards shows may be just as entertaining to some folks as great art is to others, to me they are just ego-inflating parties thrown by and for rich people who have nothing better to do than pat one another on the back.

Oh, and for famous LGBT people to publicly come out (via):

Sorry for the bad audio. It's what they had.

More. anon.
Prospero