Local Guy Honored with Faint Praise

A local documentarian got nominated for an Oscar whenever they announced these things. We won't divulge his name, because who knows if he wants to be associated with something as stupid as the Oscars. If we ever get nominated blog of the year by the National Association of Illiterates, please, keep it on the dl.

Our hate affair with the Oscars began in 1987, when the dreadful "Take My Breath UH-way" won best song over sweet little "Somewhere Out There."

Then there was the whole Hoop Dreams debacle, which we still can't discuss rationally.

And it continues to this day, as the Oscar voters--befitting a group of people who really have to concentrate when they read Entertainment Weekly--continue to celebrate fatuous crap possessing the subtlety and intelligence of a punch in the neck. Invariably, their Best Picture selections are shiny things (Lord of the Rings, Chicago, Gladiator), "Message Films" (Crash--racism is bad!, American Beauty--modern life is confusing! Schindler's List--the Holocaust SUCKED!) or movies in which an American actor had to use an accent, pretend to be retarded, or some other mission impossible (too numerous to count, really).

So, local guy--we'll protect your identity until you request otherwise--we're happy if you're happy.

The Stranger's very happy--apparently this guy was making films about that black stuff in the webs of your toes until they plucked him from obscurity and singlehandedly made him the overwhelming success that he is, even as the evildoers at the Times, P-I and Weekly utterly ignored him. Honestly, Stranger, everyone knows your arts coverage is 86 times better than any other local paper, you don't need to start a circle jerk gloatfest every time you scoop the fucking Times. As they say in sports, "Act like you've been there before."