Regular reader (yes, singular) of this staggering work of idiocy knows how much the Academy of Motion Arts and Sciences vexes me. If you can’t give the Coens statues every year then why have the stupid ceremony? To honor Steve Coogan? Please.

I know why “Lee Daniel’s version of Lee Daniel’s Movie Called Lee Daniel’s The Butler” was snubbed. It’s unwatchable, sentimental drivel, but why cruelly ignore “Inside Llewyn Davis?” I watched it, and I’m not sure it isn’t the greatest film ever made ever. Way better than “Citizen Kane,” that unwatchable piece of excrement that has no sense of being Coenesque (trade marked!). The brothers Coen have a way of creating the most likable unlikable characters, and Llewyn Davis might out unlikable all of them. Yes, even Tom Hanks’ Professor G.H. Dorr from “The Ladykillers.”

Ok, so punish Ethan and his brother, but what the hell did Oscar Isaac do to not be nominated for his namesake award? Oh, yeah, he appeared in “Won’t Back Down.” All right, I understand that thinking, but wasn’t working with Maggie Gyllenhal punishment enough? Hey ohhhh! Anyway, what other actor not only had to act his testicles off but also sing, play guitar, hold a cat and stand by while John Goodman chewed the scenery? None. Is it too late/early to give him an Honorary Oscar? Give him Peter O’Toole’s. He shan’t be needing it.

And I rest my case.

Speaking of musicians who travel the globe playing for peanuts even though Spin or Rolling Stone once named them artist or album of the year (I forget and I’m not looking it up for you, singular reader), I saw the great Freedy Johnston recently. Sure he obsessively tuned his guitar and talked a lot between songs, but his voice still rang true and soulful. Not sure why he didn’t perform “Evie’s Tears” or “Two Lovers Stop,” but who am I to question Freedy. Though, at least one angry patron yelled at the photographing Natales to stop blinding everyone with their old timey flash bulbs.

Pete Donnelly of the Figgs, the sometime backing band for Graham Parker when the Rumour can’t get work visas (I assume that’s the reason, otherwise why would Graham effing Parker need so many backing bands? Because everyone loved him in “This is 40?” Not buying it.) opened for Freedy. They even played a few songs together including the Dukes of Stratosphere’s classic “Vanishing Girl.” I know, I don’t get it either. Anyway, they were both a couple of gen’lemen, and we’re grateful they visited with us and especially performed. Pete released a fine record in 2013 called “Face the Bird.” Check it out on Spotify and then buy it, you cheap bastard.

Well, I should have the the Top 20 of 2013 finished soon. Still not sure what the comparison piece will be. Maximum Tom suggested failed presidential candidates, but I just can’t bring myself to compare any musician to Williard “Mitt” Romney with the possible exception of Michael Bolton. And what are the odds of Michael Bolton making our Top 20? Well, you’ll just have to check back to see.

Goodnight, Eric.

So I saw Rhett Miller again. 10th time by my count, and each show worth it’s weight in gold dust. Pixie dust, really. The guy plays his heart out, whether it’s just him and his guitar, or with Murray and the fellas. He doesn’t just play a set list. He plays a catalog. So you would think after leaving it all on stage he wouldn’t have time to hang with the Rhett-natics. Sorry, that’s trademarked. Not only did he pose for pictures with Maximum Tom and the Runnin’ Girl, Etouffe and Mrs. E and me (Mims stayed home because the previous night I had lit a fire without opening the flue. Was I drinking? Who can remember such things?), but he also graciously answered my questions.

Me: Which DeLillo novel do you think he wrote for you? Has to be “White Noise,” right?

Rhett: Probably “Underground.” It’s such a massive work. So many themes. But I loved “White Noise” when I was younger. And I love “Libra.” I’m from Dallas, so I get all of that conspiracy stuff.

Me: So you rode bikes on the grassy knoll?

Rhett: I don’t know. I kind of think Oswald got off 2 lucky shots. That’s all.

Me: Really? You don’t think he was a patsy?

Rhett: My grandfather was friends with Jack Ruby. In fact, there’s a whole page in the Warren Report on my grandfather. My grandfather worked with Ruby. Said he was crazy.

Me: So your grandfather was in the mob? Just to clarify.

Rhett: Are you going to buy a t-shirt or what?

So, that’s the interview. Groundbreaking, right? Yeah, I thinks so too. I tried to get him to admit that he is a golden god but no dice, Las Vegas. Which, as you know, means “Those Vegas.”

Here’s a picture I took with Rhett on Good Friday circa 2007. How about “Great Friday?” Boy, has he not aged. I look like William Sanderson from “Blade Runner.” Is it the booze? I don’t know because he was drinking double Jamesons at this most recent show. Then again he defended the Warren Commission. What the Eff?

Crap! I forgot to tell him I worked with Arlen Specter. Didn’t even mention the magic bullet. Well, he and the Old 97s are touring this summer. Great. I’ll finish the interview then. I also want to get his thoughts on Vietnam.