Here We Go, Like It Or Not

Up to now, everything has gone wrong for the glamour/horserace/"Is Angelina expecting?" crowd this awards season. The Writers Guild strike scuttled the Golden Globes and exposed them for the pointless exercise in flash that they are. The work stoppage almost made the Oscar folks trade in their big, glitzy show for one that would simply honor the art and history of movies (and what does it say about the Academy Awards' intrinsic value that everyone seems so relieved the strike ended just in time to put on the pomp romp?). Oscar nominations couldn't even dominate the entertainment news cycle on the day they were announced before dawn with their usual smug assurance that the world just couldn't wait; by mid-afternoon, Heath Ledger's untimely death had, quite rightfully, stole all of the media attention.
Parties were cancelled, campaigning - well, wasn't, but neither was it as desperate and tasteless as it's been in recent years.
But now it looks like rain hasn't dampened Oscar's red carpet parade, and everything that's superficial about the awarding industrial complex looks ready to go for all of those who like that stuff.
Those of us who truly love movies will just frown and bear it.