Personally, I don't get the Globes at all. Stringers for foreign press associations hold wide sway over the festivities, and back in the old days the awards were considered as jokes. In fact, back in the real old days, it was a bore:
... The statues were given out exclusively by journalists (zzzzzzzzzzzzz) until 1958. Then, in a moment of drunken history, the core of the Rat Pack (Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr.) stormed the stage and hijacked the show to the delight of the (let's be fair, equally soused) audience. The trio was invited back the next year and got this whole swingin' shindig started, man. Ain't that a kick in the head?
And since the uplifting of the show by Saint Frank and his disciples, the Globes are more zesty and relevant(?) Now all the A-listers show up, people love the dazzle and the razzle, and everybody's thrilled to win a small, gold-plated planet earth. And the things have become predictors of bigger awards down the pike.
So congratulations to Mr. Buck, Ms. Lee, Mr. Lasseter, and Diz Co.