The Tears of a Goldberg! at The Insider

When Paris Hilton cries, the angels sing. It is fricking hilarious. When Whoopie Goldberg cries, it is not hilarious. It’s horrible. No angels sing. It’s painful to the soul.

The tears of Whoopie cry can scar you for life.

And what’s almost as horrible—maybe even more horrible, in some ways—is when Whoopie almost cries. And the Oscars (ugh), those insensitive bastards, made her almost cry. This morning. On teevee. The View, if you must know. And it made me want to cry, too. And I hate wanting to cry. It doesn’t get me laid.

God, how I loathe the Oscars. And not getting laid.

Let’s get it out in the open: I adore Whoopie Goldberg. There. I said it. And I’m not ashamed to say it. I’ve loved her since she was getting beaten in The Color Purple. I loved her when she was getting spooked in Ghost. (Hush up.) I’ve loved her in just about everything. So.

I’m also not really all that ashamed to admit that I might watch an occasional episode of The View, so I won’t. Admit it. But if I did watch it, or admit that I watched it, which I might, and won’t, I wouldn’t be ashamed. Hypothetically speaking. And you can bet that the only reason I would watch the hypothetical View is because of Whoopie Goldberg. (What? You thought I’d watch it for Elizabeth Hasselbitch?) I don’t mean to wax all woo—woo and New Agey or any of that junk, but Whoopie is whatcha might call a wise soul. She’s deep. She “gets it”. She’s an old spirit. And an Oscar winner. And a former Oscar host. Everyone knows this.

Except, apparently, the Oscars.

Now, I told y’all yesterday that the forgetful Oscars, 80 years old this year and clearly suffering from Alzheimer’s, completely neglected to memorialize the recently deceased young actor Brad Renfro during the it’s annual memorial montage. Remember? It was really rather rude of them, and will sure invoke a terrible curse from beyond the grave. (Fingers crossed!) But there were more (and more and more) Oscar video montages, and one in particular featured clips of “Great Moments in Oscar History” or whatever. It had everything and Jack Nicholson’s kitchen sink in there from the dawn of Oscar history. It was exhaustive. It was exhausting. And it left out Whoopie completely. It acted like she never existed.

But that’s hardly the worst part.

When she brought the matter up on this morning’s The View, about how she had been forgotten and her life’s work casually overlooked, well, she cried almost. Cried! She got all choked up and misty and please Lord, tell me those weren’t tears I saw gathering in the edges of her eyes. Mercy, mercy me. It was like watching orphans being beaten to death with puppies.

Watch your back Oscars. I’m gonna find you. And I’m gonna make you pay for hurting my Whoopie. Mark my words.