Billy Crystal has been named as host of the Oscars, replacing Eddie Murphy, who left a few days ago along with disgraced shellfish-lover Brett Ratner. The move officially puts an end to days of speculation as to why we ever gave a sh*t in the first place. Or perhaps it was just the Oscar producers’ way of getting thousands of people to say brutal, hateful things about a beloved entertainer for the crime of not being surprising enough.

Crystal hosted the awards show eight times before, the last time in 2004. He announced the news himself on Twitter (which many thought was a joke until it was confirmed by the Academy, who retweeted his tweet… God, what a stupid time to be alive). Crystal tweeted:

“Am doing the Oscars so the young woman in the pharmacy will stop asking my name when I pick up my prescriptions. Looking forward to the show.”

So I can imagine we should expect even more hilarious jokes like that one, plus probably a dance number or two. Those are… always… uh… dancy. Poor Billy. He doesn’t deserve all the mean comments, but I can’t pretend I’m not just as bored by this news as everyone else. It’s a shame, I really thought my idea for Jamaican Gabourey Sidibe hosting the ceremony had legs.

“Now respek, me bredren, for dese best pict-char nominee, while me gwan sing da teme song ta Titanic inta dis bumbaclot turkey leg. BUH! BUH!

NEEEAR… FARRRR…. me sa gwan bow me poonani, feelmenow feelmenow…”