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The LA Weekly's Nikki Finke returns from a long vacation with her annual slash-and-burn Oscar predictions. Perhaps fearing an arson conviction if she actually torched the Kodak Theater, Finke settles for kicking George Clooney in the balls, accusing conservative Academy members of fearing that Brokeback Mountain will give them a boner, calling Paul Giamatti a troglodyte (actually a point in his favor, she says), and, perhaps most sensationally, questioning Heath Ledger's taste in women:

BEST ACTOR: This category should be renamed Best Impersonation of a Real-Life Dead Guy. Terrence Howard fails to qualify. David Strathairn is known as an actor’s actor, which means he’s never the first guest on Leno or Letterman. Translation: He’s not flashy enough to win. Joaquin Phoenix played it like Johnny Cash Lite, so he’s out. Philip Seymour Hoffman eerily seemed more Capotesque than even the writer’s archival footage, so he’s the front-runner. Which leaves as his only serious competition Heath Ledger. I dunno, couldn’t he have married someone hotter than Michelle Williams? I think that lapse in judgment alone gives the Oscar to Hoffman.

In a word (OK, three): No. She. Didn't. Call Ledger's touchingly tortured—if mumble-mouthed—performance overrated if you must, but declaring his baby's momma not hot enough is dirty pool, especially considering that her main on-screen competition was either a) saddled with progressively more horrifying Texan fright-wigs, or b) a pouty Jake Gyllenhaal in a Marlboro Man get-up.