If you have access to a television/computer/newspaper/magazine/set of functioning eyes and ears, you are surely aware that the Academy Awards are coming up this weekend. If you are someone who loves the Academy Awards, who pops popcorn and invites friends over to watch and has an Oscar pool, then I sincerely wish you a pleasant evening of entertainment and I hope you enjoy every minute of it.
But the rest of you, the ones who are going to complain on Twitter and Facebook about how long the show is, or how lame the opening song-and-dance number is, or how lame Ellen is as a host, or the injustice of Paul Walker’s obituary reel being shorter than that guy from Glee‘, take a deep breath and try to remember: you don’t have to watch the Oscars. This is not a Clockwork Orange type of situation. You have free will. Remember last year when you tweeted, “remind me not to watch the Oscars next year”? Consider yourself reminded.
May I call you Bono? That feels a little familiar, but “Mr. Bono” would be weird, and you don’t seem to use your last name at all anymore. Remember when you were Bono Vox? What happened to that? Is Wikipedia right when it says you named yourself after a hearing aid store? Sorry, I’m already digressing and I haven’t even started yet. Bono, we need to talk about the sunglasses.
Super Bowl XLVIII (that’s 48) was not exactly memorable. The Denver Broncos were overmatched by the Seattle Seahawks in every way a team can be overmatched, and suffered one of the most lopsided losses in Super Bowl history.
But I think this year will still be remembered, because for at least the last 25 years the Super Bowl has been about a lot more than just the game on the field. It’s about Hollywood showing off all its biggest coming attractions for the new year, and the halftime show, and of course, it’s about the commercials. And this seemed to be the year that commerce announced its hard-earned, long-fought victory over the forces of artistic integrity and the notion of “selling out.”