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I gritted my teeth for over three hours watching this embarrassing excuse for an awards show, until the final insult: "Brokeback Mountain" did not take the Best Picture award. That was the only reason I watched, for the euphoric moment when Ang and the Gang would swarm the stage in a supreme moment of validation. I was denied even that. "Crash" was no doubt well-meaning, but audiences had passed judgment on that one almost a year ago. "Brokeback" was everybody's darling. Had it won, I might have been able to forgive Jon Stewart his increible-shrinking-comic act, or Reese Witherspoon her oh-so unspontaneous dollop of acceptance tripe, or even the ignominy of being asked to sympathize with pimps in a "song" so bad a ten-year-old would have had the sense to disown it. Oh, well, there's always the MTV awards. I'm betting on "Brokeback" in the best kiss category, and the Academy Awards in the best kiss-off.
