Last week, I wrote an article outlining 2015's Academy Awards ceremony, easily one of my favorite nights of any year. In it, I reminisced about Neil Patrick Harris in all his (temporarily naked) glory, recalled to life many touching speeches, and fell in love with moving pictures all over again, just in time for the release of 2016's nominations.

In last week's article, I also hoped for the 2016 ceremony that last year's "successes will be repeated and its failures [...] rectified." Well, with nominations fresh out of the oven for the 88th Oscars, already our beloved Academy is repeating its so obvious mistakes.

And of course, they're not fooling anyone. One of the first things people noticed after the official nomination release was the lack of people of color (POC) under the best actor and actress categories. With five nominations per category and a category for both male and female lead and male and female supporting, that's twenty actors recognized by the Academy for achievement in performance in 2015 movies, all of whom are white.

I know what you're thinking—surely this is warranted! I mean, they can't just nominate POC actors for the sake of diversity, right? Yes, that is right, and would probably be a solid argument if 2015 had produced no significant films featuring people of color. But ("Concussion") that's ("Straight Outta Compton") not ("Creed") very ("Beasts of No Nation") true ("Tangerine"), is it?

Here's the thing: "The Academy" is an elusive term we use to group the 6,028 pretentious film snobs whose votes are released every February for the so-called "best movies" of the previous year. The problem with this is that when you actually consider the demographic of the Academy (which you can, thanks to a LA Times survey), you realize it's 93% white and 76% male as of 2012.

Oh, and the average age of Academy members is 63, a one year increase from the year prior. Because even white males get older each time the earth makes (yet another) orbit around the sun.

This year's whitewashed nominations aren't a one-off, either. No people of color were recognized in last year's actor/actress categories, likely prompting host Neil Patrick Harris' joke about honoring "Hollywood's best and whitest—sorry, brightest."

And 2014 was also decidedly not lacking POC representation in movies, with popular hits like "Selma," "Dear White People," and "Beyond the Lights" in addition to smaller arthouse films such as "A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night" and "Ida" featuring non-white leads.

Look, I'm not saying that the actors and actresses nominated this year don't deserve it. (I am saying that Jennifer Lawrence yelling at Bradley Cooper for two hours isn't anything we haven't seen before, but that's another discussion.) But do they all deserve it enough to be at the expense of so many others?

I have yet to see "Straight Outta Compton," "Creed," or "Tangerine," but with only the performances of Will Smith as the staggeringly brilliant Dr. Bennet Omalu and Idris Elba as the morally bankrupt Commandant under my belt, I can safely say the lack of POC representation under at least the two actor categories is completely unwarranted.

Not to mention Samuel L. Jackson's hysterically gruff Major Marquis Warren from "The Hateful Eight" and Benicio Del Toro's unsettlingly desperate Alejandro from "Sicario."

Last year after 2015's nomination announcement, April Reign, editor of BroadwayBlack.com, created the hashtag #OscarsSoWhite to speak out against the lack of diversity in the Academy Awards. This year, that hashtag has been revived, and with its revival has come the birth of a new hashtag, #OscarsStillSoWhite.

But it's not just POC who suffer at the arthritic, sun-spotted hands of the Academy, either. The "lesbian-not-lesbian" film "Carol" was the best reviewed movie of the year and one of the most critically acclaimed, and while the Academy thought its two leads important enough to nominate for Actress in a Leading Role and Actress in a Supporting Role, the Todd Haynes film was shut out of both the Best Picture and Directing categories.

Possibly with "Carol," the white male Oscar voters just appreciated the acting more than the full experience of the movie. But possibly they were perturbed by the idea of a film presented entirely from the female perspective—a film in which women are depicted as powerful and independent while men are cowardly and antagonistic. Either way, apparently the Academy only cares about a woman's situation if it is not at the expense of a man's. And sure, they care about lesbians! Just not lesbians' struggles.

Because, you know, only eight films were nominated for Best Picture this year, and I don't know if you should be the one to tell the Academy or if I should, but every go 'round, there exists ten slots to fill. The only hurt that would have come out of a recognition for "Carol" is the pride of some wrinkly bald guys who still hold the now-(and-should-have-always-been-)antiquated belief that a woman's storyline must be positively cognizant of man to matter.

But in the end, no matter how much ABC promotes the ceremony and how many reaction posts flood Twitter, all the Oscars really add up to are the opinions of some people who are jaded to the magic of representation and possess a saddening lack of understanding why this representation is important.

If "Concussion" made even one black child believe in the power of his or her own voice, it was a success. If "Beasts of No Nation" called even one privileged American's attention to a third world tragedy, it was a success. If "Carol" convinced even one struggling teenage girl to embrace her independence, it was a success. In the end, the impact of these movies on the public is so much more important than their impact on the Academy.

I will continue to embrace the Oscars, year after year, because they, all politics aside, celebrate something I love so dearly, film. Embrace the intention, not the execution. And if the intention really is to shut out minorities from the awards—well, it differs from person to person anyway.

Don't think the 88th Oscars ceremony will smooth over the biased nominations easily. With Chris Rock as the host, expect a multitude of shade and sass to put Neil Patrick Harris' commentary to shame. Until then, use the next month to accept the fact that for the next ten years or so, the awards will look largely, well, like this. A glorification of all that is white and male. But soon enough, age will finally catch up to these Academy geezers, and millennial counterparts will slip into their abandoned seats like butter.

In any way you wish—by watching the Oscars with simultaneous reverence and trepidation, casting your own votes for the year's finest, or just supporting whatever the theater has to offer—don't lose your love of moving pictures because of one institution's inability to be inclusive. Critical recognition is fleeting; lasting impact is vital. Remember this when white artists dominate the Dolby Theater on February 28th.

Don't let any crusty old men ruin your love of movies. Instead, keep minority flicks paramount in the box office. Remember movies that were important to culture even (and especially) if they weren't important to the Oscars. Show the Academy that in so many ways, your love matters more than theirs, year after year after year.