Late last week my staff gathered in our fine and Entertaining Center to dine of delicatessen and watch, upon the broad liquid-crystal screen, the assignment of Oscars to the many and sundry kinetescopic performers and craftspeople living in and about the Hollywood Region. As the evening progressed, I loudly bemoanéd the fact that far too much recognition goes to actors who, in point of fact, are necessary only in that they give the viewer a proper sense of the scale and scope of the set pieces and stage properties. Where, I did wonder, is the Academy Award for Finest Set Dresser or Property Manager? For Best Application of Cuculoris to lighting equipment? As my queries mounted, there was much the shushing and hissing for the quiet. Finally my dear lab assistant Rob turned to reply. He wiped from his mouth a dollop of the Russian's Dressing afore explaining that those tasks, too, are well awarded.
"AND SHALL OSCAR DISPLAY THEIR DISTRIBUTION SOON?" I asked as he recommenced the eating of his Peter Paul Rubens' Sand Witch.
Rob shrugged, "Naw. They don't show those on TV. There's a bunch like that, that they give in this little ceremony before, with no red carpet or billion-dollar skank-fancy dresses: Best Set-Dresser, Best Make-Up, Best Magical Black Dude, Best Sandwich."
Molly gave Rob the baleful eye, and he did shrug, "What?" he asked through a mouth full of his Rubens' Patented Sand Witch, "I think he's old enough to know the truth, Molls."
"INDEED," I did attest, "I AM ONE WHO CAN HANDLE ALL TRUTHS."
Despite the glarings of his co-viewers, Rob and I spoke throughout the remainder of the ceremony, of the vast myriad of awards televisually neglected by Oscar and his Gilded Minions. Ultimately, we settled upon the following "short list" of those which much deserve the greater glory of incoherent speechifying, red carpets, 820 million adoring viewers, and Jessica Biel's full, pouting breasts. Please vote for that neglected award which you feel best deserves to replace "Best Actor in a Supporting Role" in the pomp and circumstance of the annual ceremony, and I will begin my forceful petitioning of the Academy of Motion Picture Sounds and Furies forthwith.
I Remain,
Your Giant Squid
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