The Academy Awards is the epitome of this decadent, useless culture.

The TV telecast used to clock-in at less than three hours; but in the mid-seventies the show gradually expanded, seemingly unaffected by the plight of viewers on the East Coast and other sentient beings indifferent to the endless banter, the superfluous musical routines and the bloated egos of actors who think that time limits for acceptance speeches apply to everyone but them.

Lately, the Oscars have been discussed more in terms of who crashed and burned as Master of Ceremonies. While the Academy was once happy to let icons such as Bob Hope (who hosted six awards) and Johnny Carson (five) take the reins year after year, times have changed and ratings have steadily declined. Producers of the show have become more impatient in their pursuit of the perfect host. They have taken a variety of approaches, none of them particularly radical or successful.

In the past decade we have had the edgy comedy of Chris Rock, as well as more family-friendly hosts like Steve Martin and Jon Stewart plus the old-school pizazz of Hugh Jackman, or as I call him: ‘Huge Jackass.’ And then there is reliable old (and I do mean old) 9-time emcee Billy Crystal. Can we please give him a rest?

2011 saw the Anne Hathaway/James Franco debacle, and in 2013 the Academy surprisingly chose Family Guy creator Seth MacFarlane to host the proceedings: another bad call. Kate Bennert commented on Gawker: “… there’s no question that Seth MacFarlane was a terrible Oscar host. Not only were his jokes unfunny, tired, self-centered and boring, but also incredibly sexist, homophobic and racist.” Needless to say, he will not be invited back anytime soon.

Last year we had the harmless, unfunny Neil Patrick Harris, and the year before it was good ole non-offensive Ellen DeGeneres.

Yawn. Frankly, I haven’t watched the Oscars ceremony in over thirty years. I just really don’t give a shit about any of those people. I stopped caring a long time ago.

The Oscars are not really a celebration of talent, originality or cultural relevance when you think about it. Oscar night is really just Hollywood’s annual showcase of mediocrity. It’s a gigantic circle-jerk for the entertainment industry. The major studios effectively determine which films compete for the Oscar months in advance.

Celebrity-worship reaches a fever pitch in the run up to the Oscars. Jamie Tehrani, a noted social anthropologist in the UK, recently speculated that celebrity worship originates in the unique human perception of prestige: a form of social status based on the respect and admiration of other community members.

The social order in most primates is defined by physical dominance. This is true in some human societies as well, but in many others social order is dictated by prestige. We convey prestige to individuals for recognition of their achievements. In our society, the primary indicator of prestige is fame: because celebrities get more attention, they are bestowed with more prestige. Our brains are programmed to associate prestige with adaptive behavior.

The worship of celebrities is basically a survival strategy targeted at successful role models, rather than at specific traits. That is what makes personal charisma such a powerful and flexible tool. The attributes that make someone successful can vary significantly in different cultures.

It makes sense to emulate the behavior of those who adapt most successfully to a given environment. Tehrani reckons this evolutionary trait worked quite well when our role models were healers, hunters and tool makers: celebrities not so much.

It may have begun as an outgrowth of our natural predisposition for social hierarchy, but celebrity-worship has exploded into a multibillion-dollar national obsession, thanks to ubiquitous celebrity gossip sites and tabloid media. We have reached the point where someone can be famous simply for being famous (i.e., Kim Kardashian).

Our society is becoming increasingly trivialized. There are plenty of gossip magazines to look at in the supermarket checkout, but we can’t even look into the eyes of the cashier behind the counter when we pay for our groceries.

The sheeple follow celebrities on Twitter and Facebook, but they know nothing about the world around them. They see gorgeous bodies and beautiful faces on the Red Carpet, but they can’t seem to appreciate people for anything more than that. Totally superficial.

I grew to loathe celebrities and the mediocrity they stood for. I mean: these people are role models?

Most of them are no more talented than you or I – they just know somebody who’s already in the business, or more likely they’re related in some way to another pseudo-celebrity. Or they had sex with the right people.

You think nepotism is bad in New Mexico? It’s nothing compared to Hollywood.