As I start to watch "Talk To Me" –a movie I’m excited about watching– all I can think about is this:
The movie is what matters.
The acting, directing, editing, music, they matter.
The writing, of course, is what made it all possible, so of course it matters the most (though methinks there is more than one greedy gos around there).
The Golden Globes happened last night, right?
But what are the GGs without the lavish and blatant display of wealth and ostentation? Without overpaid figureheads getting shitfaced while the world sits glued watching them?
They are nothing. They are a couple of columns printed somewhere in the Style section of the paper.
Nothing but the reminder that the Hollywood Foreign Press Association is a Mickey-Mouse organization. That the awards the give out, just like so many other awards, are relatively meaningless because all the public cares about is the ostentation and the wealth and the booze and the designer clothes.
So we can all feel a little more bitter and a little more disenfranchised and a little more lackluster, starting with the people elbowing each other while guzzling the finest champagne the world has to offer.
________
Tomorrow: with 100% less bitter edge!
A Daily Dose of Zen Sarcasm! 
As I said to a friend, one has to wonder why the GGs were as bad as they were. No one’s written anything original for Hollywood in years. Surely they could have taken last year’s award ceremony and sequeled it.
I live in a cave. Most of the time, even when I see the dresses and jewels, I have no idea who those people are.