Every February/March the global art and film complex, well really the European /American art and film complex, gears itself up for the award season.
The interest shown in these awards is quite astounding, especially among those whose countries and cultural expressions (film, music, costume design, make-up) are not even remotely represented.
On my Facebook for example, (the measurement of all things cultural of course) people become very touchy when their favourite artist does not take home the miniature man/woman or gramophone.
Being honest, the awards are local affairs with only Britain, (a specific part of Britain let us not fool ourselves) and the US (the two coasts) represented. These two communities then pat themselves on the back for being so great. In fact, the rest of the world looks on, hoping, those involved in the arts that is, that somehow, some way, they too can perhaps be there thanking God and their nursery school teacher. In reality this is not going to happen and in fact, only a small subset of people from anywhere else get to have their speech cut short by the orchestra. The fact is, this isn’t your party mate/Caribbean person/West African/Aborigine etc. etc.
But we on the outside still care. We care what dress our actress we just paid or pirated to see in Movie Overblown II is wearing. We are concerned about if an actor that looks like us might get an award. Why? Because we are all junkies, junkies addicted to the American dream project. And who can blame us when drugs like this are available. Here is Rihanna accepting her Grammy award in 2008
You heard what she said? She said Barbados?? So come on awards season, help out this struggling addict and give me a surprise as I peep through the window at your party from the non-Western alley, like all good addicts do!