Clint Eastwood apologies to me

Look, Clint, I'm not saying I don't understand why everybody trips balls over your work. I get it, really. I mean, you're old and shit, so everybody in Hollywood knows you from when you were a mediocre actor with only two emotions: seething rage and gruff love. You're beloved by suits because you tend to make blatant Oscar bait that leaves little if any lasting impression (for realsies, when was the last time anyone you know said "You know what I want to watch? Mystic River.") You are lauded with praise even when your movie is racist (seriously, Gran Torino isn't good...it just isn't), and your latest effort has Morgan Freeman playing Nelson Mandela, which is casting so obvious and so destined to be praised that it almost doesn't even need to be filmed to win awards. So, yes, I get that you don't HAVE to do anything that I like in order to be hailed as a cinematic genius, even if that's like considering twinkies to be an elite food because a billion people eat them daily (that's a statistic...it's wrong, but it is a statistic)...but I really appreciate you making an effort by casting Bryce Dallas Howard in your new supernatural thriller, The Hereafter, starring Matt Damon.

Bryce is still the best work of Ron Howard's life, and I'm eager to see her in just about anything that has the potential of not totally sucking. Meanwhile, I wonder if Eastwood will use super ripped Matt Damon or goofy fatty Matt Damon. Either way, he'll win.

Clint, now this doesn't mean we're friends. I'm not going to start endorsing your crap for awards season, but you knew that anyway. Also, I want it on record that every year you age, I get slightly less convinced you could take me in a fight. Right now, I'm about 35% sure I could whip you.