Untelevised Golden Globes only awards show with some self-awareness
Self-awareness is rarer than dodo birds these days. One can simply call those who oppose or disagree “haters” and dismiss what they have to say with the wave of one’s Twitter-emboldened hand. Attacking the speaker instead of the message is rhetorical sloth, yes, but ever so much easier. Or one can spin criticism by labeling it jealousy and misogynist sexual lust as AOC did when conservatives called out her hypocritical and mask-free vacationing to Florida; a place with a local state leader that understands people should have the freedom to be people. But at some point when the flow of cash starts drying up, you’ve got to face reality. The Golden Globes seem to be doing just that, and credit where it’s due.
There’s an old saying which reads “follow the money”. I think it comes from either the Mosaic Law or a Garfield cartoon. Meaning when you’re looking to start something successful, you’ve got to go where the money is. Well what if the money goes away? You can either blame everyone and everything but yourself, or you can practice a little self-awareness and go away in your own turn. Sure, it took an epic, hilarious tongue-lashing from the brilliant Ricky Gervais to accomplish it, but who doesn’t need a good downward peg-knocking once or twice in their lives? Most of the time if comes from our moms. That’s not really an option for the Hollywood crowd, having been raised by shameless mothers who shilled them out as youth for money and vicarious living. So Mr. Ricky will do until we find a better surrogate.
Gervais had to tell them multiple times “No one cares” and that they have no room to virtue signal about…really anything. Repetition is key for driving your point home. I’m not jaded enough to think no one listened. I’m also not naïve enough to think everyone listened. The viewers at home and the advertisers did though. Turns out even those who worship celebrities can have their eyes opened to the unnecessary bloviating, the ego-stroking, the backslapping let’s-give-our-friends an award and talk them up as people mentality, the self-righteous sermonizing, and the rest of the verbal diarrhea. Advertisers would naturally follow because they want to sell their products and you can’t hock cheap cell phone and insurance plans to an empty room.
Self-important grandstanding misses the mark when the overwhelming number of reasonable, decent Americans have already taken care of things like women’s rights and racial equality in their own hearts and minds, and the despicable people who haven’t aren’t likely to watch and change their lives based on your preaching.
So the winners were Tweeted out and the tape of the show loaded to YouTube. People who want to watch this mess can purposefully do that on the streaming service, and advertisers can pay based on clicks and views instead of being sold a bill of goods with the fingers-crossed promise of eyeballs beforehand. In short, the Globes are grabbing their chips and cashing out; gracefully bowing out at—well not the top of their game but at least not at the bottom—with a little bit of dignity intact. I’d suggest an interactive trivia contest or dance competition tied into the show while trimming the unfunny monologues if they want to return to respectable ratings. Apparently Americans can’t get enough of B-list celebrities acting shocked when a giant, colorful, foam insect head is removed from a mystery performer.
I’ve written about celebrity overexposure before. I don’t think boomers and Gen X worshipped celebrities so much as understood them to be like so much fine chinaware. You pull them out a couple times a year on special occasions. Sometimes they had something witty to add to their appearance on Caron, Sullivan, Cavett, Letterman, or Leno but the audience knew they were there to plug their current thing that regular folk would probably pay a few dollars to enjoy and then go away. Social media came along and obnoxious activism became trendy. Now I can’t do my morning necessaries without being told how to do my morning necessaries by someone who can afford to employ someone to perform morning necessaries on their finely tuned body.
I can, and do separate the artist from their art. But my goodness, can I get some caffeine in my system before the incessant hassling for being a straight white man or not taking time to French a polar bear? I swear dropping some ice blocks off for the bears to walk on and not being a straight white guy longer than necessary are on my to-do list. Second is a mite tougher as checking my privilege seems on par with giving up some wonderful and beneficial addiction.
Let’s see if other “OOH, shiny statue!” suck-fests follow suit. They might adapt and become a sleek hybrid of PBS telethons and that crackhead at the Burger King who can’t take a breath without bumming you for money they swear up and down isn’t going to drugs before you’ve even brought up the subject of drugs but now are thinking it’s definitely going to drugs. A couple things we can count on some of them are total self un-awareness and blaming the proletariat’s refusal to change, Reality Deficiency Syndrome being a real thing and all that.
I’m selling squares on the topic of the first politically-charged speech vomited in a desperate and thirsty search for applause. Will it be racist Republicans, white supremacy, climate change, how China and their vibe are the bee’s knees, transgender rights, abortion, racist Republicans, #Metoo, the plight of black people, racist Republicans, or racist Republicans? All of those would be trumped by a speech about wicked, evil, overweight, inbred, racist guns if a white person shooting someone happens in any close proximity to the day of the show. Speaking of being trumped; I’m sure The Donald will bear mention because he’s refused to keep his fat trap shut ever since not keeping his fat trap shut for, like, ever. I’d love it if they can catch Biden between one of his three daily naps for a blatant and manipulative photo opportunity because all of the people who matter on the coast swipe right for the DNC in a horny and excited manner, no matter what the DNC does to their beloved coast. Something tells me he’ll leave a certain off-putting subordinate back at the office.
I’d start a support group for all of the failing awards shows but I don’t think I have that kind of patience and I’m afraid the big ones will all gang up and bully the Grammys. It would be a chance to make an impressive and tasteful memorial to the Blockbuster Awards (RIP) but it’s too soon and those memories are too dear to me. Plus, who wants to spend their time reassuring the vain and insecure, telling them there are folks out there who love and still care? Another word for that would be “lying”.
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Image taken from:
https://thegatewayonline.ca/2020/01/marble-pedestal-ricky-gervais-golden-globes-monologue/
