Where Are You Bobby Mitchum?

On Sunday, America once again was witness to the vapidness of Tinseltown’s Annual Academy Awards.

I’ll admit right up front that I’m an old fuddy duddy and long for the days when matinee idols played macho heroes and villains and the starlets were glamorous queens of the silver screen; each held our collective imagination.

With former Senator Chris Dodd (D-CT), who was embroiled in the Countrywide Financial debacle, as the Chairman and CEO of the Motion Picture Association of America it’s no wonder that Hollywood has strayed from recognizing the work of artists who produce the kind of films that Americans want to spend their hard-earned money to see.

Instead we are fed a steady diet of political correctness and/or indoctrination.  Take for example, Albert Nobbs; an unsettling film starring Glenn Close playing a woman playing a man.  Another attempt to make moviegoers accept lifestyles different from their own comes in the form of Beginners, a saccharine-sweet story of an elderly man who hid his homosexuality from his son for forty-four years.

I am by no means a prude, but good grief, how much longer must the progressives foist this hogwash on us?

The films the academy recognized this year were garbage.  The movie-going public knows it and has stayed away from the cineplexs in droves.

Maybe I’m not such a fuddy duddy after all.  Maybe the popcorn just ain’t worth the cost of the ticket or the assault on our sensibilities.