Operation Infinite Justice

Thus, Hollywood celebrated its own beautiful mind. Would this evening make up for decades of demeaning stereotypes and ongoing marginalization? Not the least interesting aspect of the event was watching it filter through the enigmatic consciousness of the self-named Whoopi Goldberg. Oscar Grouch was blown away by Whoopi's improvised (?) riff on the segregated endorsement clips—her pointing out that while only African American actors were shown to celebrate Poitier, so the montage devoted to the evening's other honorary recipient, Robert Redford, was uniformly white. (Her favorite Redford vehicle, she wickedly declared, was Out of Africa.) Indeed, Oscar Grouch realized that—despite the award to a documentary that decried racial profiling—he didn't see even a single person of color among the throngs of techies, designers, producers, and miscellaneous hobbits who had trooped up to the stage to claim their awards. What's more, the clips chosen to glorify Hollywood's past gave evidence of the idiotic pride the industry continues to take in Gone With the Wind.

As the humiliated Russell Crowe was perhaps looking to seek solace among the lap dancers of Hollywood Boulevard, weary Oscar Grouch staggered out into the eight-blocks-from-ground-zero darkness. At the very least, the movie industry orchestrated a successful drama with undeniable social content. Was the whole world really watching? Fellowes had ended his thank-yous with a fervent "God Bless America." Oscar Grouch wanted to add "Hooray for Hollywood." The image makers fulfilled their mandate. No one could deny that the movie industry had contrived a night to drive a stake through the Taliban's heart.

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