Snubbed by the Academy, again

March 24, 2003

Another Academy Awards show is history, and this year a group of the finest actors ever assembled were again completely ignored by the Academy of Arts & Sciences: the talented protest thespians who have been chaining themselves to gas pumps, having “die-ins,” “vomit-ins” and making it difficult for Bush supporters to get through the day without being beaten up by a peace activist.

The other night, after leaving a dinner, I was driving by the state capitol building. Up ahead, I saw that a small crowd of war protesters was on the lawn near the street. They were the usual cast of characters: college kids mostly, carrying signs, yelling for President Bush to go and perform the physiologically impossible, chanting, staging mock killings, and generally wasting time until the mailman comes with the next check from their folks. I remember looking at them and shaking my head as I thought to myself, “Why aren’t you kids out drinking?”

As I drove past, the crowd was getting dangerously close to the road. I was hoping they wouldn’t try to block traffic, since I really didn’t want to be in my garage until the wee hours of the morning plucking “no war for oil” signs out of the grille of my car. I’ll hand it to them, though – they were great actors, and yet they continue to be snubbed by the Academy.

Though I disagree with the politics of the aforementioned performers, I recognize and respect them as Americans. Why? Because they didn’t interfere with my freedom to drive down the road. Americans love freedom and, as the men and women are overseas doing this very second, fighting to keep it – for themselves and, more importantly, for others. Those protesters who are blocking traffic and lying in front of the entrances to gas stations are interfering with your freedom. You can’t claim to be championing the cause of freedom while robbing others of theirs. If these people ever want the Second Amendment repealed, we’d better do it, or they’ll shoot somebody.

The freedom to protest is the American way, but that ends at the point when it starts costing someone else theirs. These are the people who block bridge traffic, chain themselves to gas pumps, and scale the outside walls of buildings like some sort of Marxist Spider-Man in order to hang a “peace” banner. Our rights to cross a river, fill up our tanks, and to be able to walk down the sidewalk free from the possibility of being killed by a falling pile of left-wing tie-dye which had a faulty suction cup, are quelled.

A funny thing about the United States is that many of those who hate it tend to really enjoy living in it. The U.S. is the first choice of many America bashers in which to reside. Sure, you’re welcomed – even encouraged – to complain about the U.S. in Iran and such places, but here at least you don’t face the fear of going home after the “down with America” rally and having your hand chopped off because there was a misspelling on your protest sign (unless your mother’s like mine).

The Academy Awards people need to come up with an Oscar category for these protesters. They’re good actors, great whiners, and deserve to play first-chair snivelhorn with the likes of “Martin Sheen and his all-Bohemian orchestra.”

The activist Hollywood left plays a different tune than the normal protester, however. Career actors do a lot of protesting, but it’s not their reason for living. They’re good at it, but still, it’s just something they do between films. They stay here because acting gigs are much harder to come by in the commie countries. You can whine about this nation from Malibu, while making millions acting and directing; or you can chastise and belittle the United States from China, while earning 75 Yuan a week for playing the lead in “If They Could See Me Mao” at the Wuhan Community Playhouse. The freedom to make lots of money trumps the urge to be dumb enough to live in a country that actually practices what they preach.

This war will be over soon, and the protesters can put away the signs, chains, body paint and clever slogans. The 20-year-olds will head back to their campus dormitories, and the 40-year-olds will head back to a small bedroom in their parents’ basement, knowing that they’ve just pulled off a grand performance. Then, they’ll stare up at an empty shelf – a shelf that’s devoid of a much-deserved protest Oscar.

Wake up, Hollywood. The time has come to recognize true talent.