Past Its Due Date — Twilight

This is something I go off on at school all the time.  I actually feel sorry for the kids who read the Twilight books ’cause it can’t be fun to have your teacher openly mock what you’re reading.  It’s probably worse for the adults, because I do give the impression that I’m judging them for reading the books.  Really, I’m not.  It’s just that, well, I hated them.

Mind you, I didn’t read all of them. I can’t even imaging going through that level of hell (previously undisclosed by Dante as the cul de sac of suck), let alone living to bitch and moan about it.  I did, however, at the urging of other people read the first two.  I still resent them and the author.  Quite frankly, if you name your daughter Bella, I will dislike her.  I will assume she’s insipid and vapid. I will pretty much assume she’s going to stare at me and drool on the desks.  I won’t be happy about it.

Now, let’s be honest, Edward is so old-fashioned no one is going for that — not even hard core Twi-hards. Jacob is a still a popular name for real kids.  Edward is just some weird-ass name this poor schmuck has because he’s like 150. Trust me, it was a respectable name for its time.

PROBLEM NUMBER ONE

He’s like a million years old (alright, 112 or so).  He’s going to high school willingly.  Really?  Look, REAL teenagers don’t want to be there; why would a vampire?  Plus, whose birth certificate did he turn in?  Did I miss that?  Are they identity robbers as well as blood sucking consumers?  That’s just messed up.  I mean, if you’re really worried about the authorities, why not just “home school” them?

PROBLEM NUMBER TWO

Nothing skeeves me out quite like he “can smell her”.  Honestly, I’m just thinking the book was underwritten by Vagisil, which I don’t think makes douches anymore, but might.  Definitely Summer’s Eve.  If that’s not overly sexual (and hygiene questioning), I don’t know what is.

Plus the whole, “he’s hard” statement.  (shudder and sour face).  NASTY.  NASTY.  I mean, maybe this is the literary equivalent of “young, dumb and full of cum” but… UGH. I can’t even write that and not want to get the Harry Potter wand capable of thought extraction. I want that stuff OUT of my brain.

Let’s not forget the whole stalking thing.  What is it about women’s literature that romanticizes nut jobs who stalk? I’m telling you I would be FLIPPED OUT if I woke up to someone in my room watching me sleep.  That’s grounds for a judge, a no-contact order, and whatever it takes TO KILL YOU.

Finally, he sparkles.  Like “My Little Pony”?  Huh?  So he’s dangerous, but not really?  I think I did date this guy.  Only he wasn’t playing on my team.  He liked his own team better.  I’m not saying Edward is gay (and there’s nothing wrong with that), I’m just saying he might be conflicted.  After all, he’s got a girlfriend he won’t sleep with because he honors her too much, plus he can’t trust himself, and he shines in the sun.  Why wasn’t Edward played by Christian Siriano again?

PROBLEM NUMBER THREE

Bella is idiotic.  Plain and simple.  Obsessed, easily swayed, and a bit ADHD.  I’d be verklempt if my child was like that.  I don’t find her interesting, compelling, or particularly engaging.  I guess she should be ecstatic she caught the eye of a 112 year-old pedophile with nothing better to do.  Although, one has to wonder what someone who’s 133 sees in someone who’s 17.

Plus, and back me up here, where is her father?  Is this man just simple? Stupid?  Checked out?  Why isn’t he paying better attention.  Now this might be addressed in one of the many books I didn’t read, but how can he hang out with werewolves and not know about them or the vampires?  Both of Bella’s parents need some therapy ’cause they are MESSED up.

PROBLEM NUMBER 4

It was just painfully awful to read.   I would read, then roll my eyes, sigh, and put the book down.  As such it took me, I SWEAR, three weeks to read it.  It was just such drivel and so clichéd.  Then I was promised, PROMISED that the next book would be better.

PROBLEM NUMBER 5

I was lied to!  The next book was some sort of sick-ass salute to depression and suicide. What the hell?  NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! and NO!

Despite hearing many promises that it would get better past that, I just couldn’t.  It was just too painful

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