Do you remember the best Christmas present you ever got? A mountain bike maybe, or a puppy, or the greatest hits of Barry Manilow: Special extended edition? My greatest ever Christmas haul was the year I got a My Baby Allgone AND a Barbie 4x4 – never has a little child been so manically elated over so much pink plastic.

 

Now you have that particular gift focussed in your mind, I want you to carefully make a note of the joy and love you feel for that memory, because it’s about to be dashed. It will fall into forgettable insignificance when you hear what the Motion Picture Academy of America have offered up to us this chilly December morn.

 

No, Norbit’s 2008 nom will not be decried as a near-terrorist act of wrongdoing, and nor will the tragedy of passing over Goodfellas in the name of Dances with Wolves be apologised for. Photos of Cher’s infamously terrifying black peacock fashion explosion that displayed so much artificially preserved flesh will not be be erased from history, nor will Björk’s egg-laying dead swan.

 

What can Oscar possibly do to save himself then, I hear you cry? What can the Academy awards offer to make us all bow at the feet of their genius whilst all these injustices (and many, many more) go unrectified? Only one thing can save us, readers. The one thing that we never thought would happen has today been confirmed by the man himself.

 

The 81st Academy Awards ceremony on February 22nd 2009 will be hosted by Wolverine.