No one is urging men to lean in. No one is frolicking on stage singing about what body parts men have revealed on film. No one is legislating access to men's reproductive healthcare out of existence. I don't want to fight these fights any more.
I was offended last week. As an Academy member, as the child of former Academy members and as a woman, I expected more from the best that the movie business has to offer. The Oscars are about honoring art and artists. It is not supposed to be a cheesy vaudeville show.
Why did anyone think that on a night that is supposed to honor the best of Hollywood, a town that has broken so many barriers and moved us forward in so many ways, banal sexist, racist and anti-Semitic jokes would be funny and appropriate?
Seth MacFarlane's Oscars performance failed less because of racism, sexism, and homophobia than because he forgot what satire is and how it works. The satiric genius of late-night icons like Johnny Carson and beloved fictional curmudgeons like Archie Bunker has been lost in a sea of mindless snark.
The Oscars may have been tasteless, but the twits who reviewed the Oscars were almost uniformly without taste. The proper response to Seth MacFarlane -- and this may be the professional response we in fact encountered -- is envy.