I have a theory that I’ve been letting marinate for quite some time now. It’s one into which I’ve put hours of observation. I’ve executed quite a few field tests and taken careful notes via my Twitter. I present it now at a time of dire importance, because I feel the sanity of our country is at stake.
The “Twilight” series’ popularity is a scary reminder of just how stupid people, especially women, can be. Edward Cullen and his sullen, downtrodden, Debbie Downer of a lover named Not-So-Bella Swan cast a spell of blind adoration over the majority of women in the United States, and many abroad.
But I believe that while many of the girls who loved “Twilight” become women, and while Catherine Hardwicke continues to make horrible movies, the spell is slowly breaking and BITCHES ARE WAKING UP.
It takes an intelligent mind to find the cracks in logic, the gaping crevices and plot gaps and tangled webs of “Twilight” universe loopholes, some of which seem like Stephenie Meyer just got really, really high and wrote a few chapters on autopilot, or perhaps she let her cat dictate them to her.
My theory is that, initially, there are traits that reside in many of us gals who the “Twilight” series speaks to directly, sucking us into a world where reading about a sparkly man is not absurd, but quite lovely. However, usually after some maturation or perhaps a swift blow to the head, some women (a.k.a. the smart ones) realize the sheer stupidity of Stephenie Meyer’s characters, plot and writing style.
And those women, like me, grow to actively loathe the entire effin’ production.
I hope more women will help break the chain of command that “Twilight” has over the hearts of every girl in America wearing jewelry from Claire’s.
My sister and I saw “Breaking Dawn: Part 1” over Thanksgiving break with the primary objective of being entertained by the parade of stupidity attempting to mask itself as a movie worth your $8.50.
The movie was just as I expected: absurd. The acting was, in the spirit of consistency, absolutely shit-terrible, and Kristen Stewart’s pouty face only got poutier when she got knocked up and started looking like a 70-year-old woman with osteoporosis. The special effects looked like someone learned how to do them from watching a YouTube video and the writing was awkward and put together about as well as Meyer’s books.
And yet even when 80 percent of the audience at the theater chortled at moments that were intended to be taken seriously, there was a whiny group of Swannabees behind me who were having bitch fits about my unashamed cackling laughter.
And after the movie I heard them complaining about my disrespect for the franchise while they discussed the things they didn’t like about the movie.
“You know which part I didn’t like? When the wolves talked in their minds,” zombie Twihard No. 1 said.
At which point I turned around while walking and said, “You know which part I didn’t like? When the entire series functions as Mormon propaganda like ‘Don’t have sex before marriage’ and ‘Never abort a fetus even if it’s physically harming you and will literally break your bones and kill you.'”
“Or the part when Kristen Stewart struggled to make sounds other than guttural non sequiturs and huffs of disbelief.”
“Or the part when Bella was a talentless teenage girl with no grasp on reality that obsessed over an old dude and attached herself to him like a parasite.”
“Or the part when Edward was an old man creep and should not have had the slightest dash of an interest in an immature, whiny 18-year-old with an attitude problem and no discernible personality setting other than outwardly miserable. Those were the parts I didn’t like.”
To the women under the “Twilight” spell: Wake up and start hating it. It’s so much more fun.