Sigh. Next year? NEXT YEAR?

A bunch of movies you probably haven’t seen get Golden Globe nominations from the preposterous “Hollywood Foreign Press Association.”

A quick trip down the list shows that I have seen exactly zero of the film nominations for any category, and of the TV series, uh, let’s see… one. Big Bang Theory.

Though I did mean to see Puss in Boots and Rango, and have The Descendants on my list of maybes.

I’m thinking that either I or the Foreign Press Association are out of touch these days. Meh, they’re a bunch of furriners. I blame them. And don’t tell me how great Game of Thrones is. I read three or four of the books and gave up utterly because I prefer to read books that have something uplifting, or at least, one where not everybody dies. Life is hard. I get it. Really. I don’t need to be told in several million words how hard it is.

Those were the good old days.

Best comment from fifteen-year-old Jake, while watching the war bonds song sequences: “Were the 1940s really this cheesy?” Aunt Meryl’s response: “Yep. Go watch a movie from that time period, you’ll see.”

That song was written by Alan Menken. Or Richard Sherman. Credits went by too fast, but both of them are good lyricists, and both have worked for Disney.

By the way, great flick. Go Cap!

Can’t wait for the Avengers movie next summer. It will be featuring my guy, the Hulk. Who will manage to beat the Avengers, I’m sure. Nobody defeats the Hulk!

My favorite line was not, after all, “Not my daughter you BITCH!”

It was: “You and what army?”

Run, don’t walk, to see this one. It’s the best of them all.

For instance, I’m glad I didn’t really want to see a midnight showing of Harry Potter DH2. I’m tired enough to go to bed now; no way I’d be able to last for a two-and-a-half hour movie starting at 12.

I’ll be seeing it Sunday morning. Then it’s off to NorVA, as I have tickets to see Wicked at the Kennedy Center Sunday night. Then work on Monday. That’ll be a busy, but fun day.

So, when are you going to see Harry Potter?

But not until next weekend. I’m all movied out.

Sucks to be you today, Mel.

Awww. Are we sad?

Nope. Not at all.

Pilots on an Alaska Airlines flight from Mexico City to Los Angeles locked down the cockpit and alerted authorities Sunday when a flight crew grew alarmed at the behavior of three men who turned out to be conducting an elaborate orthodox Jewish prayer ritual, officials said.

This isn’t the first time flight crews have freaked out over Jews praying. You know, the airlines really ought to brief their people on this ritual, because Orthodox Jews will continue to fly on American airlines, and they will continue to pray during those flights.

Hope the movie tanks, Mel: Jodie Foster says that Mel Gibson is the most-loved man in Hollywood. Yeah, I’m thinking not so much after his anti-Semitic rants about Jews, but then, Foster is the actor who so desperately wants to play Leni Riefenstahl, better known as Hitler’s propagandist, in a biopic she’s been shopping around for years. So what’s a little Jew-hate between friends, eh?

No, really, this time we mean it! The reason I don’t care at all about Hamas and Fatah reuniting is that they won’t. Abbas won’t visit Gaza, because he doesn’t want to be assassinated. It’s just words. Even the AP realizes it:

Bringing Hamas back into the Palestinian Authority could jeopardize the hundreds of millions of dollars in annual American and European aid the government depends on. That aid was withheld in the past when Hamas was part of the government because it refused to recognize Israel, renounce its violent campaign against the Jewish state or accept previous peace accords. There is no sign Hamas would be willing to do any of those things now, and violence continues.

Shyeah. Best friends. Any minute now. Sure. Uh-huh.

Well, at least they gave the right film best costume design.

(Actually, I’m sitting here going, “don’t care” to most of the minor awards because, well, I don’t.)

James Franco and Anne Hathaway are wonderful. Good writing for those two, boy. Loved the big song number on my man Hugh.

You have to be kidding me. Obama taped a bit for the Oscars? Can you say, “Unbelievable narcissist”? Of course you can.

Wow, Kevin Spacey can sing, too. Better than Randy Newman.