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Posts Tagged ‘Meryl Streep’

photo_12044_20100201I just had this ready to go in case I won the Oscar tonight in the best original screenplay category, even though I was not nominated:

Well, this sure is a surprise. No, please you don’t have to stand up for this. I am in the bosom of my peers, and right now we are all winners. Of course, all of you are of the highest caliber in your fields. Ben Affleck, you are a double threat. Triple if I note how many babies you have. Ha ha. Just kidding with you there. Jessica Chastain, you have come out of nowhere in the last few years like a hurricane and just blown off our windows and doors and roofs and foundations. You were the moral center behind Zero Dark Thirty and who wouldn’t torture those bastards to get Bin Laden? I would. There are times when a self-righteous meltdown is totally justified both onscreen and off.

Jennifer Lawrence, or if I may, J. Law, I think you’re only 15 or something and here you are beating out Meryl Streep for awards. Scripture says,  “A child shall lead them,” but I think it also says a child will hand their asses to them on Oscar night. (No offense, Isaiah 11:6.)

I’ve been pretty fortunate to have worked on my script for so long when it was in the development stages with somebody who knows Steven Spielberg. This was a labor of love you gave me this Oscar for, and though I sit before you now, gleaming trophy in hand, most of the gleaming I’ve done over the last few years was born of the tanks of sweat coming down my glistening forehead and neck as I struggled over this thing I called “Piece of shit” maybe 1,200 times. The original draft is covered with blood and stomach acid.

When I first broached the idea for the screenplay with my agent (who is not at CAA, by the way), he said that my idea was more than a downer. It was also truly hostile. I had to ride that compliment for three more years alone as I worked through draft after draft and honed the script that you all know now to be a story of a man caught between extremes. My film was about the audacity of the human spirit in a world where everybody is a scorpion capable of fucking his own face. A world where people who called you their best friends and toasted you at your wedding one day could turn around the next and divorce you like an ax-handle turd and tell people you were on lithium for two years in the 90s.

I know that you are all, my peers, on the same page with me tonight when I talk about the kind of integrity I mean. Tommy Lee Jones. Ang Lee. Adele. All of you people of great sensitivity know. You who record human emotions like a photographic plate burns at the kiss of sunlight. You, my peers. Jack Nicholson. Helen Hunt. Daniel Day-Lewis. You who like me also likely know how loathsome it is to even be touched by other people when you have to brush by them in a supermarket. We who have the tender emotions of artists carry them like open wounds and yet must constantly suffer these indignities and miseries and beclown ourselves for people who are not fit to eat after us at Denny’s.

When you tripped after receiving your award, J Law, you said, “Aww shucks, you’re just giving me a standing ovation because I tripped.” When we both know what you wanted to say: “You all want to kill me. I can smell the hate from up here.” Sometimes I feel as an artist that the only safe place I have is up here on this stage with this award, yet tomorrow I will have to walk the streets alone among savages and dogs. Jennifer, you and I are safe up here. But for how long? For … how …  long?

Ben Affleck said when earning his producing award for Argo that you can’t hold grudges when you’re in Hollywood. How right he was. You must not ever show people all the horrible grudges you hold. You must instead hold them in until they make you sick with ague-y tendons and malignant formations in your pancreas. You must turn those grudges instead into fantasy on paper–specifically the fantasy of watching your enemies die in horrendous pain and bloodshed while suffering the beatings, fistings, garrotings and other degradations of Salo. You must put these fantasies on paper, waiting like a crouching tiger until the day you can make them real. Yes, right on the money, Ben Affleck. Believe me, frere, I know exactly how you feel after your Oscar snub, the pain like a fresco of freshly painted coral sticking to the insides of your stomach muscles. Yes, no grudges. Wink!

So yes, Academy, now I thank you. I thank you vile pigs for the validation that can no longer nourish me because it is too late in coming and can only sustain me the way eating pieces of notebook paper sustains an anemic. Yes, Academy, please honor me now and pretend that it is the sum of pain and humiliation and tawdry nights of loveless intercourse with streetwalkers. This is my valediction. Ang Lee says namaste, but I say kiss my boots you worms. All of you bow down and feel the sole of it on your neck and then watch me stick your patronizing Oscar up your effete Range Rover driving asses! I take your love and hand it back to you as abuse! How do you like that? Fuck this award! Fuck it!

Also, I’d like to thank Harvey Weinstein and Sid Sheinberg.

Image: Francesco Marino / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

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What were some of the highlights of the 2013 Golden Globe Awards?

–*Jodie Foster took 50 years and what seemed like 10 minutes to come out of the closet.

–*In her speech accepting the Cecil B. DeMille award, Foster begged for privacy and then said she was lonely and single and went into excruciating detail about how she liked her lesbian sex.

–*E! Entertainment television’s pre-show noted that the red carpet was thick with highly glamorous possible flu carriers.

–*Salma Hayek’s and Paul Rudd’s inability to improvise during a teleprompter gaffe cost millions of dollars in precious air seconds, time that they must pay back with their lives!

–*To get a Steven Spielberg movie made about him, Abraham Lincoln had to pay for it … with his life!

–*Former president Bill Clinton came to introduce the film Lincoln, about America’s controversial 16th president whose record is very mixed among historians.

–*Lena Dunham proves with her show Girls that if you’re naked a lot, on some level you can’t really be insufferably coy.

–*As we honor President Abraham Lincoln at an awards show, we must wonder if his last thought might have also been, “Hey, this is a pretty good show!”

–*Lena Dunham made a joke about the 2000 Oscars, which means she’s been watching these shows since she was 2.

–*Kanye West breathed a sigh of relief when he saw how badly Taylor Swift can behave at an awards show.

–*Tony Mendez, the hero of the film Argo, made a speech onstage about his Iran mission in very hushed tones, far away from his microphone, leading one to ask: “Did anyone tell Mendez the mission was declassified? They made a movie about it!”

–*”Adele!”

–*Kevin Costner once carried the moral authority of the masculine American on the big screen. But now everybody’s gay and we all think he’s a douche bag.

–*Tommy Lee Jones is a star. But he is a distant star, and when he laughs at a joke, unfortunately we will not see it for 2.5 million years.

–*Tina Fey and Amy Poehler show that when you insult Americans you better be an American, Ricky Gervais.

–*Look, we know Sacha Baron Cohen is making fun of us. The real surprise and delight comes from figuring out how he’s making fun of us. This can take days to work out.

–*Argo proves that Ben Affleck is no fluke as a director. His acting career, however, continues to be a fluke.

–*Zero Dark Thirty has been called controversial by those who say it implicitly supports the American policy of torture. Torture among teenagers is already up 30%, says a worried Ed Asner.

–*Meryl Streep couldn’t be here tonight because being lauded so much has finally made her physically ill.

–*Really, I don’t think I was kidding about that Kanye West thing. If he had a football right now, he’d be spiking it!

–*The Golden Globes has people hotly anticipating the Oscar race now that people know how many good movies accidentally got made last year.

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