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This list (it’s criminal)

So you remember my friend, the Comedian? He’s about 347 kinds of helpful when it comes to Internet surfing and useful/thought-provoking/cringe-with-laughter-inducing link e-mailing. Today was no exception. You see, he sent me The List.

(Note: If you don’t know what list I’m talking about, run away from you computer at various high rates of speed because I’m about to hurl this 400-year-old stapler that I really, really hate at you.)

That’s right. When I opened my inbox, there it was: The List of Oscar Nominees. I saw, I read, I pondered … and let me just say it’s a good thing our American culture frowns up the tradition of killing the messenger.

In short, the news, well, overall it wasn’t good. In fact, it was bad in ways that I had expected and emotionally prepared for but still caught me totally off-guard.

OK, I’ll go ahead and point out that shy, unassuming little elephant cowering in the corner: Aside from Heath Ledger’s nom for Best Supporting Actor, “The Dark Knight” was shut out from virtually every category not involving cinematography, art direction, score, etc.

Am I surprised, shocked, taken aback? No. Am I peeved, pissed, irked, miffed and, oh, about 1,275 other synonyms for “angry”? You already know that answer.

From here I could explode into a long, bitter, profanity-laden diatribe about all that is wrong with the Oscars and the Globes and their selection process. (How much time do you have? Oh, right, infinite amounts — you’re reading this online! I have a captive audience!) But I will spare you. It almost goes without saying that I am disheartened, disgusted and a variety of other words that begin with the “dis” prefix at this snubbery (a combo of “snobbery” and “snubbing”). What this tells me is that a) the Oscar folks are plumb idiots and b) movies that happen to rake in bucks in theaters always will be considered “movies” and not “films.” “The Dark Knight” is a film, pure and simple, a dark, brilliant work of art and of artistry, and the fact that it did not merit inclusion in Best Picture makes me all clenchy inside.

I propose a revolution, a complete and utter overhaul of the system. Who’s with me? Dorothy Boyd, are you with me?

But best not to rage, rage against the idiocy of the Oscars for too long because they did get a few things right. “Slumdog” and “Milk” get Best Picture nods, while directors Danny Boyle and Gus Van Sant got much-deserved recognition in Best Director. Meryl Streep, who I suspect gets an Oscar nomination for scrubbing scunge off the shower wall, got props for her chilly work in “Doubt,” as did Anne Hathaway for “Rachel Getting Married.” Best Supporting Actor will be one hell of a race, with Philip Seymour Hoffman (“Doubt”), Robert Downey Jr. (“Tropic Thunder”) and Heath Ledger all deserving that fake-gold statuette. The same goes for Best Supporting Actress — I felt a joygasm when I saw Penelope Cruz (“Vicky Cristina Barcelona”) and Viola Davis (“Doubt”) got nods for their very fine work.

But someone tell me: In what BIZARRO UNIVERSE are we living in when Brad Pitt gets a Best Actor nomination for a monotone part he PHONED IN and Clint Eastwood gets snubbed for “Gran Torino,” which is easily his best acting work since “Unforgiven”? If Angelina Jolie really had any sense of heart or decency, she’d take five minutes out of her busy schedule of accumulating (I mean adopting) thin foreign children and boycott her accolades, telling Oscar to “stick it” because Eastwood EARNED that nom for her. It was a part anyone could have garnered critical acclaim for. Hell, my dog could have gotten a nomination for a part that dark, twisty and well-written, and frankly my dog’s lips aren’t half as distracting as Angelina’s.

But I digress. My point, you see, is that the world at large is headed to Hades in a flaming red handbasket and the Oscar people are peddaling with the same peculiar brand of vigor Paris uses to find her new BFFL.

Which reminds me … I think I once made some noise about renouncing the world and auditioning for that very role if the Oscars ignored “The Dark Knight.” I’d be happy to pay up, you see, but I think that honor must fall to the person who sent me The List.

I mean, since killing the messenger is verboten, I think this would be acceptable according to the Geneva Convention.

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