From the industry that brought us Mad Men and Fifty Shades of Grey came another spirited showing yesterday evening of Fifty Ways to Signal Virtue.
In a quiet, subdued gathering Sunday night that sought to reduce the lavish opulence of past ceremonies, America’s most pleasing voices and prettiest faces assembled for the 75th Golden Globes. Here, they lauded each other’s greatest achievements in a world of entertainment definitely not designed to promote sex, objectification, or smut. Among those receiving awards were stars who reporters will much later call out as perpetrators of harassment, child exploitation, or pedophilia, at which point the remainders will probably don the color yellow to advertise their ignorance.
Much like 2016, 2015, 2014, 2013, 2012, 2011, 2010, and all the other years in which they worked hard to expose corruption among their friends and colleagues, the night began with a reflection on the desperate need among their ranks for depth, honor, character, and a different field of work. Analyzing the roots of their industry that had harbored sludge, scum, and swampland became a significant portion of the evening, rather than a mockery of the fallen or a surface skim of jokes playing on every social topic that constitutes Buzzfeed’s daily headlines.
In a singular move, the sparkling audience also seemed to reach a moment of euphoric enlightenment in which they embraced the heretofore taboo concept of electing unqualified TV stars to handle the weightiest affairs of running the nation. The stigma associated with inexperience seemed to melt away once it was associated with the power of positive thinking.
And while they were on the subject of the long-suffering, victimized women in Hollywood—who had entered an industry funded by sex and paid for their diamonds, caviar, and Beverly Hills homes with silence—it was stirring to hear them remember the women of the Middle East who still endure such similar privation to themselves. I don’t believe those particular speeches were caught on camera, but I’m sure the awareness was there.
It became dazzlingly clear throughout the evening that so long as one can string together words designed to call shame on issues they knew about previously but didn’t bother to call out until the world was doing it, one possessed the character needed to continue wearing dresses worth a Lamborghini without fear of reprisal. (If, that is, the dress was the color that the elites had designated as representing the very movement targeting the issues they had created.)
Last but not least was Connie Britton’s statements that expanded on her $380 “Poverty is sexist” sweater. “Global warming is racist,” she was heard to expound, before explaining in a brilliant display of startling clarity that world hunger was connected to trans-phobia.
Not currently featured in this article or in Hollywood: women who volunteered sexual favors in exchange for career advancement. Yes means yes, you know.