Darlings, don’t you hate it when you are assaulted with accolades just for your amazing talent at being you? It is trying: the endless composing of acceptance speeches, the constant attention to one’s hair, and never being able to take a bathroom break in case you are called to the stage.
I found myself in just such a situation the other night, at a local industry awards show (I am a hobby industrialist), replete with a resigned 3-piece cover band, an ersatz Seacrest emcee, and hoards of other people actually taking the whole thing seriously. Did they forget about how they entered their work themselves? And how nearly everyone in Boston is on the judging panel? Only to end up surprised, like “Who, me? Nominated? What an honor!”
I tuned out after I found but a single drink ticket shoved in my badge. Then what do you know, my faction won the first award of the night. Then most of the rest of them. Ryan Notcrest began to make fun of us. I guess if you’re going to rig it, at least make it look believable. Right, Obama?? I had second-hand embarrassment at various points seeing how excited people were to win these things. It’s not that the work was not snazzy, but isn’t it existentially troubling to get a charge out of something that is Not a Big Deal?
Apparently everyone with an ironic mustache and all the rest of America disagrees, so who are we to argue! We are pleased to announce we’ll be hosting The Clammies, the first ever annual or whenever Vomitola awards show. I have a turkey to brine, however one does that, or I’d go ahead and Photoshop up a cute icon. We aren’t sure what we’ll be evaluating for excellence, or what the judging criteria might be, so do sling some suggestions our way. Best Use of Stolen Cell Phone Footage in a Blackmail Situation? Most Undeserved Success Story? Most Astonishing Photobomb by a Sandwich?
Does it really matter? Just know that we are tastemakers to the last. Deep down, no one wants to be but a background player.