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Sunday, July 17, 2011

WHERE HAVE ALL THE FLOWERS GONE, DOCTOR BOMBAY?


I'm three-quarters of the way through a post I started a couple months ago about the process of buying an entertainment award.  The post shines a light on the time, money and effort companies put into media campaigns to drum up support for a show or movie to win awards. It's a combination of personal experience, historical data and harsh opinion. I may still publish it, but not now. Truth is, anything I say about an award this week will be turned into Sheenian pulp.

Clearly, my Twitter Emmy set got a lot of play this week. It started out making me giggle, then as it was picked up and spun into poison, it made me cringe. I got calls from Christian relatives I didn't even know I had, telling me that Jesus could still save my soul. Any of you who watch the show, know what my response was to that outreach. I then tried to give the tweets some context later on in the day, but that got Levinized as well. Even as I type this blog, I know it will be turned into something desperate and ill-intended.

But I'm not really a crawl-in-the-hole-and-wait-for-it-to-pass kinda guy.  So I'll say a few words to put it to bed... until next July.  First off, I'd like to apologize to my wife for including her in several of my ruder tweets.  Unlike me, Katey is an enormously private person and sometimes the negative shit I stir up baffles her.  She loves and supports me, but when folks start attacking me for my bombastic behavior, it upsets her.  I need to do a better job distancing her from shit they may blow back on both of us.

As for the Emmys -- as much as I think my cast and crew deserved a slew of them, I was not expecting any nominations this year.  Even for Katey.  I saw her Golden Globe heat wane by April and I knew she was going to be left off the ballot.  So Thursday's dismiss was not a surprise.  It stung and it was disappointing, but not a shock. 

Last month I wrote this blog:

SEASON 4 UPDATE... AND SOME CUNTLESS EMMY THOUGHTS

I had every intention of honoring that.  I really wasn't going to weigh in at all.  I began with a couple innocuous remarks about taking the nominees out to lunch.  I was having fun.  My followers were digging it, so I kept going.  They got darker, more absurd and in my twisted, little mind, funnier.  But apparently, me and my twits were the only ones laughing.  

Fair enough.  I'm not claiming I didn't mean to tweet them or they were a mistake.  I put it out there and I'll take the hit.  I don't apologize or default on anything.  Quite the opposite, the backlash gives me a greater sense of resolve.  Fuck 'em.  In hindsight, I guess the intent of the twitter jag was to shine a light on the absurdity of the awards and the weight people (like me) give them.  The truth: I HATE that I was disappointed.  I hate that I was disappointed, more than I hate the actual rejection.  It's fucked that a bunch of half-attentive couch-sitters who don't watch half the shit they are voting for decide who gets a piece of fake gold -- and that's what it takes for me to feel worthy.  Fuck.  I'm embarrassed to say how much I crave that douchebag trophy.  (There's your headline, cunts).

That obvious confession out of the way, clearly I feel that the Emmy voting is a very flawed process.  I'm not saying that those who are nominated or win are not deserving, I'm just saying not ALL of the nominees or winners deserve the kudos.  It has never been, nor under the current structure, will it ever be an accurate measure of quality.  In my opinion, the only award that is a true measure of excellence in television is the TCA award.  Voted on by educated individuals, inside a controlled, payola-free system.  (Didn't see me going off when we didn't get any of them did you?) 

Anyway.  Below are all my Emmy tweets.  Nothing edited out.  In order, from last to first.  You decide if they are tabloid worthy.  Let me know where you land.  I'll be out in the backyard picking poppies with the warlocks. 


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John Conroy
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joe one-leg
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Damon Lindelof
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Tim Goodman
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