Wow, here we are, a mere 7 days into March and I have completely run out of things to say.
Actually, allow me to restate that. I have plenty to say. And say it I will. Just not in this venue. Because they can’t be said in polite company.
We are now officially 4 days into Trade War 2.0 TM and I am exhausted. The battles on the front have been intense and filled with many angry words and nationalistic beating of chests. An old Molson ad has been updated for the digital age. The WWE match in Toronto had the US anthem booed (question – at what previous WWE event has the anthem even been played? None! you were all played like the outrage suckers you are).
The Battle of Ontario runs hot, with Rob Ford’s brother jamming a hairpin in the Ontario Hydro plug. Carmakers declared themselves neutral and pointed out to Donald Trump that mass layoffs and potential bankruptcy isn’t going to win him many new supporters in rustbelt counties. China literally threatened the US with actual war (that got way less play than Trudeau calling Donald Trump dumb – which was quite frankly surprising). Canada rolled out counter tariffs. Mexico said hasta la vista free trade. A lot of blinking happened. No one backed down. Well Trump did. Temporarily. Until April 2. Or this morning.
The gloves (current tariff 7.5%, proposed new tariff 25%) as they say, have come off.
Meanwhile – the pundit class is having a field day, suggesting everything from capitulation to energy export taxes to national unity governments and all the assorted bad ideas in between.
It’s exhausting. And the following bears repeating.
TARIFF WARS ARE STUPID.
Don’t believe me? Where have you been since Tuesday?
Okay, lane change. I can’t for the life of me do another blog about tariffs. Which as we know, as of right this minute, don’t seem to apply anymore, except maybe they will be back on April 2. Or now. Or not. Whatever. I’m out until next week.
Nope, I’m going to indulge for a minute about something that happened last week that is universally loved, especially by the people who go there.
I’m talking about the Academy Awards of course, the Oscars. The big night where the beautiful and smart people in Hollywood get together and celebrate themselves by talking about themselves and giving prizes to each other, all in the hopes that they will get noticed, either while they are preening on the red carpet or at an after-party so they can, of course, talk about themselves some more and how awesome they are.
Come to think of it, maybe the Oscars aren’t all they are cracked up to be. In fact, it is probably the single most self-absorbed night of the year in any industry. Even more annoying than Davos and more self-righteous than a numbered COP summit or Liberal Party Cabinet retreat to discuss themselves and how to not help the middle class.
Hard to believe I used to get together with friends to watch these awards and sit on the edge of my seat desperately hoping that my favourite movie would win Best Sound Design for a Movie Adapted from a Kleenex Commercial or hanging on every word uttered in an acceptance speech by such intellectual luminaries as Sally Field (“you really like me!”) or James Cameron (“king of the world!”).
For the past few years we haven’t watched, although we did last week, mostly because I was folding laundry and the remote was on the other side of the room.
The Oscars lost their mojo years back with a mish-mash of hosts, over-politicization of everything and that one time someone was handed the wrong envelope. Like, who does that? Never mind that the proliferation of self-indulgent arty movies in the nominating categories has made the entire event an exercise in cinematic futility for pretty much anyone except the self-congratulatory “members” of the Academy who clearly get compensated for sitting through a lot of the unwatchable nominated movies.
That’s right. The Academy Awards, the Oscars, have been dead to me since they jumped the shark in 1996 by not inviting back the most glorious host in Oscars history – David Letterman (“Oprah. Uma.”).
So clearly, I am not much of a fan anymore. At least of this particular incarnation of the Oscars. That doesn’t mean that I can’t exploit the awards for personal gain. And that’s because earlier this week (on Tuesday of all days) the real Academy Awards were held and I had the pleasure of attending the ceremonies and I am pleased to report that it was a rip-roaring success.
What Oscars you say? Why the Energy and Other Stuff awards as presented by the Academy of Crude Observations of course. Which strangely has many of the same categories as the actual Academy Awards, just with a bunch of surprising nominees, and winners!
That’s right, it’s The Cruddies!
As a VIP attendee I was privy to the whole event and below is my review. I’ll skip the boring awards of course. No one really cares about Best Drilling Rig or Best Performance by a Pump Jack in Inclement Weather. Those get handed out separately at the nerd show.
But imagine my excitement when I received my formal invitation to attend this exclusive event in person, at a secret location. My VIP ticket arrived by UberEats late last week with a tariff free swag package that I ripped open as soon as I got home. Most times, the swag bag is reserved for nominees and presenters (I missed out on that honour) so actually receiving one myself was an early highlight of what was sure to be a special evening.
The contents were of course mostly energy themed and included the following:
- A Tupperware container filled with pre-tariffed bitumen
- An autographed picture of Donald Trump collecting 10% tariffs on a barrel of oil.
- 10 original Encana share certificates
- The deed to an orphaned gas well in Ohio, near where JD Vance grew up
- A fairly sizeable lump of coal (my plan is to put it under my mattress and hopefully make a diamond!)
- Tickets to an NHL Playoff game in Calgary (offer expires in 2024 – WTF?)
- An $834 carbon tax rebate cheque signed by Mark Carney (wait, what?)
- A vintage Drill Baby Drill banner from a Sarah Palin campaign rally.
- A solar panel
- 1 Dogecoin
Pretty exciting stuff if I may say so myself.
As the day arrived, I found myself strangely filled with a nervous energy I hadn’t felt in a long time. Was it butterflies at the prospect of meeting so many of the luminaries of the energy sector? Maybe it was trepidation at attending an in-person event after all this time of isolation and virtual cocktail hours. Not wanting to be late, I hopped into my car and headed out.
Arriving at the location I tossed my keys to a valet in a blue suit with a red tie (well I thought he was a valet) and headed up the red carpet to the tent, fighting my way through the surprisingly large contingent of paparazzi falling all over themselves to interview an impressive assemblage of energy related luminaries including, among others Murray Edwards’ butler, Danielle Smith, MBS, John Kerry, Vlad Putin (virtual attendee), Rory Johnston, the entire #COM, Leo DiCaprio, JD Vance’s conscience, Mike Rose, Kevin and Neil Young.
By the time I got to my seat the show was just getting underway and this year’s host ensemble of Canadian huckster extraordinaire Kevin O’Leary, sartorially splendiferously dressed Jordan Peterson and sometime American conservative icon and Nazi apologist Tucker Carlson were doing a fantastic Billy Crystalesque mashup song and dance number introducing this year’s Best Picture nominees, complete with jazz-hands and a burlesque routine. To be honest, this part will likely give me nightmares until the day I die and then stay with me in the afterlife.
Okay, I know you all want me to get to the good stuff – the big awards that everyone wants to hear about and I will. But before we get there we have to get some of the lesser major awards out of the way. Given the length of the show and the mind-numbing boringness of the speeches, I am going to spare everyone the blow by blow narrative and just summarize them by category, winner and notable moments that may have happened. After all, the little people should also get some appreciation, right? Fine, maybe not, but bear with me.
Best Supporting Actress for the Environment.
This year’s nominees included perennial favourite and “politically active” Greta Thunberg for her ongoing efforts to help stem the onslaught of greenhouse gases and environmental Armageddon and former Environment Minister Catherine McKenna for her solo and largely ignored social media efforts to retain any form of relevance or, to be honest, likeability. It should come as no surprise that Greta won this one. You may not agree with her but at least she knows how to stay in the limelight.
Best Supporting Actor for the Canadian Energy Sector
While Canadian up and comer Premiere Danielle Smith was an early favourite for this category given her unqualified support of the oil and gas sector and affinity for reviving coal projects in pristine viewpoints the committee realized too late she was nominated in the wrong category so she was dropped off the ballot. This left, sadly, Donald Trump for his role in the Broadway musical adaptation of Drill Baby Drill competing against lame duck Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau. If I’m being honest, I can’t for the life of me figure out how either of these two got nominations in a Canadian Energy category. This award was a true buzzkill. Hoping it doesn’t ruin the rest of the evening.
Best Director
This award goes to the person who shows the greatest skill and leadership in creating and guiding an energy company. Permanent nominees of course include Murray Edwards, MBS and Vladimir Putin. The award ultimately went to Mr. Edwards who as we know was not in attendance and chose not to reveal his location (Monaco) or be near a window or an empty barrel in case either Vlad or MBS was mad about losing.
Best Screenplay/Story Spinning/True or Otherwise
A lot of nominees in this category including, surprisingly, yours truly, although I’m certainly not the favourite since my promotion activities are confined to my job and this blog, making me kind of an indie cult favourite. No, the powerhouse nominees here are Rory Johnston and the Commodity Context Weekly, the Canadian Energy Centre (formerly a war-room) and the anti-fossil fuel stylings of Markham Hislop and his Energi Media. Last year, I actually won due to clear vote-splitting. This year it was no context. Rory provides some of the best objective analysis out there and is a must read. If you’re an industry participant and you’re not subscribing, my question to you is why not?
Best Actress
This year’s contest featured some pretty compelling performances including Chrystia Freeland as a turncoat government insider who shanks her mentor and political idol in the back in order to lose a popularity contest for new party leader, Danielle Smith (in the correct category) as a social media quitting, energy sector loving salt of the earth woman of the people in the sleeper hit Mrs. Smith Goes to Edmonton and Sophia Kiani, for her role as the spirited environmental inclined model in Me and Mrs. Saks 5th Avenue. This year’s winner was of course Danielle Smith, thanks in no small part to a powerful performance by Stephen Guilbeault as her diabolical, Machiavellian foil whose rise to glory was cut short by general boredom with his policies.
Best Actor
Nominees of note in this category were Justin Trudeau in a madcap adaptation of Black Like Me, Donald Trump in a remake of the Aaron Sorkin classic The American President and a tour de force performance by everyone’s favourite Calgary mayoralty candidate Roger Baker in a Canadianized remake of There Will be Blood, telling the take of a former oil and gas CEO crossing to the dark side of the legal profession. A late entrant was aspiring Canadian Prime ministerial candidate and condescending boffin Mark Carney in a remake of the Jim Carrey classic Liar Liar. The winner here was quite a surprise with Roger Baker taking home the trophy which, if I am being honest, may have been made on a 3D printer in his garage.
Best Picture
And then finally we were at the moment of truth. The award of awards. The best picture. Strangely, all of the movies in question had the same titles as the actual Oscar nominees although slightly different plots. Let’s go through them.
Emilia Perez. A plucky Venezuelan sex worker discovers that Lake Maracaibo is in fact no longer water but mostly oil. Trying to draw attention to the dire environmental situation, she lights it on fire, leading to the extermination of 90% of life on the planet. Basically a Mad Max prequel.
Anora. A movie about the creators of the Anorak jacket and how they worked from original concept to eventual naming and made a fortune.
I’m Stll Here. A Donald Trump and Justin Trudeau buddy pic.
A Complete Unknown. A plucky central banker struggles to get himself recognized globally because his job is just so, damn, boring.
Conclave. A docudrama about the Liberal Party of Canada’s supposedly open nomination process where they pre-select the winning candidate then spend the next two months desperately trying to backfill reasons to support the favourite, nominating straw men opposition and kicking out anyone who isn’t an insider..
The Brutalist. You’d think this would be about architecture but that would be wrong. This movie tells the story of an energy investor trying to make his clients money during the longest, weirdest and darest of times for the energy industry as a whole.
Dune – Part Two. Set in the Saudi Desert in 1970’s, this is the story of how a once ignored kingdom set the oil industry and the American economy on its heels by using the leverage of the most valuable commodity known to man. This is a sequel to Dune, which was basically the same story and the upcoming Dunes 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 and 9. Which are basically the same story.
Nickel Boys. The Ford brothers buy a mine. Hilarity ensues.
Wicked. Before becoming the author of the Crude Observations blog, he was just a run of the mill corporate finance guy helping his clients, until they went too far and it all came undone.
The Substance. Young geophysicist Kevin leads a life of quiet desperation analyzing seismic and other data at Megalomanic Oil Ltd. until one day he makes a startling discovery and is forced into hiding in order to protect his life, his family and his country from the fossil fuel robber barons.
This year’s winner was The Substance, a movie that no one except the people that worked on it knew anything about or went to. Mike Rose accepted the award on behalf of the filmmaker, Kevin, who is apparently still in hiding… Wait a second.
Well, there you have it! After all that excitement, I gathered my belongings and eager to go to the after parties, I left the event early in search of my vehicle, only to discover what I already suspected, there was no valet parking and I had randomly given Donald Trump my vehicle. Ooops! Well at least he’ll be on the hook for the tariffs not me.
As it regards the actual Oscars? I have seen Wicked and it was fun. Not Best Picture fun, but fun fun. I want to see the Bob Dylan movie, but I am slow off the mark. I guess I need to get out more. The times, as it is said, they are a changing.
BTW – I actually think Barbie should have been renominated this year, because nothing speaks more about the present state of affairs than a plastic doll coming to life and discovering the world is shit.
