hee hee hee. "dazzling chisleyness." hee hee hee.

I myself am not conflicted over or ashamed of my love for all things Twilight, but I laughed out loud at bits of Monica Hesse's recent (November 19) Washington Post article:

People, be warned. "New Moon," the "Twilight" movie sequel, open[ed] on Friday. Everyone is vulnerable. . . .

The people who have not read "Twilight" do not get it . . . They're so smug, talking about how they once read a chapter of "Twilight" in a bookstore and the prose was just awful. Meyer never uses one adjective when she could use three, and most of the time that adjective is a hyphenate combining "dazzling" and "chiseled."

The people who have not read "Twilight" think they are astoundingly brilliant when they point out the misogynist strains of the series, like how Bella bypasses college in favor of love, like how Edward's "romantic" tendencies include creepily sneaking into Bella's house to watch her sleep, like how Bella's only "flaw" is that she is clumsy, thereby necessitating frequent rescues by the men in her life, who swoop in with dazzling chisleyness and throw her over their shoulders.

In response: We know. We know.

The women who have succumbed to "Twilight" have heard all of these arguments before. They wrote those arguments. This self-awareness is what makes the experience of loving "Twilight" a conflicting one, as if they had all been taught proper skin-care routines but chose instead to rub their faces with a big pizza every night.