Thursday, November 12, 2009

Megan Fox: American Downfall Darling


As a 24-year-old heterosexual male, the past two years have essentially demanded that I be infatuated with Megan Fox.

Whether it is the cover of Esquire (really guys? come on) or the plastering of her body and face on every page of Maxim, FHM, Stuff, Blender, whatever, take your pick of those that are still in existence, society seems hell bent on making her out to be some sort of sex-symbol rebel akin to early 1980s Madonna or even the fetish queen herself Betty Page. Well world, I am not buying it and damn me to hell if I say it (even though Deadpsin and KSK’s Drew Magary said it first) I don’t find her to be all that good looking and frankly cannot see myself getting along with her.

Alright, I obviously have no idea what she is like as a person, but if she is anything like the manufactured phony that she appears to be in her countless photo sessions and horrible movies (which, granted, I have never seen, but who cares anyway) I could see myself preferring sex with a cheese-grater than having to spend time with her.

Kind of like “The Matrix,” I just don’t get it. I really don’t see why people think she is the sexiest person to ever sexy in the history of sex, I just can’t comprehend that and cannot wrap my head around that notion. She is the poor, white trash version Angelina Jolie and from what I’ve seen of her in her terrible movie trailers, she can’t act her way out of a broken prophylactic. I don’t know, she looks kind of dirty and used and the tattoos aren’t doing it for me either.

What I find even more annoying about Fox is that I think that she realizes what she is doing and is laughing all the way to the bank. The New York Times is running an article about her in their magazine section and it goes on to hypothesize that she knows she will turn heads by saying what she says and posing how she poses. The public wants it and she will give it to them, killing, in the process, any sort of hope, glimmer or shred of talent that is just begging to free itself from her most-likely venereal infested insides.

Which brings me to this: I hate when people say “Who cares? They’re making money?” It’s people like this that allow Nickelback, Jeff Dunham and Paul Blart to literally build houses out of solid gold and keep warm in the winter by hosting money burning parties. Is there no integrity? Have we grown so numb to any sort of character and plot development that at this point we are satisfied and willing to see Michael Bay blow'd up stuff good, blow'd up stuff real good accompanied by Megan Fox frolicking along in her typical PG-13 rated attire that shows just enough skin to get middle and high school aged boys to melt in the seats?

In short, I just do not get America’s fascination with Megan Fox. I can’t see it. I know that I will be ridiculed for making such a bold proclamation (I can see the word “gay” being tossed in my general direction), but I feel as if this needed to be said. There are plenty of other women out there are more attractive than her and most likely much smarter than her as well. She is like a wax figurine whose flame is slowly diminishing and will merely be an afterthought occasionally mentioned along with the vampire craze (more on that later) on some incarnation of “I Love Whatever” on Vh1.

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