Monday, March 24, 2003

Last night, I was torn. For me, the Oscars is like the SuperBowl. I enjoy the show, if for no other purpose than to accumulate even more useless trivia ("...you know, Adrien Brody is the youngest man to win best actor..."). However, I strayed from my annual Academy tele-pilgrimage this year. Everyone knew it would turn into an Anti-War / Pro-Chicago lovefest, so I abstained. I hate musicals (why the hell are these people singing and dancing?!) and can't stand that bloated moron, Michael Moore.

I did happen upon Comrade Moore's outrageous acceptance speech for his so-called "documentary" on the roots of American violence. I really have nothing more to say about his embarrassment of a film, as so many great writers have already lampooned it for the pathetic hatchet-job that it is. John Fund summed it up best in this article last Friday.

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