Postcards on a scandal from the edge of reason 

Distinguished Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences

It is with great privilege that I compel you to disband, motherfuckers.

You seriously decided, in your awesome collective wisdom, to nominate Lars and the Real Girl — a 1.5-hour-long television episode — for Best Original Screenplay, and not Margot at the Wedding from national-fucking-treasure Noah Baumbach? In the words of the great G.O.B. Bluth, Come on!

Hey, you know what this reminds me of? That year you awarded Crash — that bonk-you-over-the-head, after-school special of a “film” whose message was superiorly and more humorously related in Avenue Q’s musical number “Everyone’s a Little Bit Racist” — the statuette instead of Brokeback Mountain.

And you know what’s funny? The same year — 2005 — you blighted Baumbach in the original-screenplay department. But I guess he should be happy he was even nominated then, right? I mean The Squid and the Whale was OK, but subtlety isn’t really what charms the Academy when it comes to original scripts — no, you picked that piece of shit, bonk-you-over-the-head, after-school special of a film whose … you know what I’m getting at.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed Lars and the Real Girl. And I’m delighted to see women — in this case Nancy Oliver — represented in the screenwriting categories. But you didn’t find the film a teensy bit … obvious? And don’t even get me started on the overrated Michael Clayton, a film whose success or failure lies in that single ejaculation of a line Clooney delivers at the end. Again, good, but it’s not like I ever have to see it again (most of America didn’t see it the first time).

Seriously hope you will consider (disbanding, motherfuckers).

Sincerely,

Uugh


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