7:22 p.m. – Tonight’s agenda: bask in hitting 40,000 words in 10 days, suffer indigestion from leftover pasta, and bitch about a local television station broadcasting a movie pertaining to a franchise that is the bane of all existence.
As I was watching the 6 o’clock news on the aforementioned
channel – as I like to do on weeknights – I witnessed a commercial that could
pretty much explain why I have a sudden urge to regurgitate my dinner. The
commercial was for the station’s broadcast premiere of the first movie in that
novel series about the sparkly vampires.
Now, I have nothing against movie adaptations of novels.
Many of those within the TONaNo community are die-hard fans of that novel
series about “the boy who lived” wizard. However, when it comes to the work of
one Stephenie Meyer, the concept that people would be so interested in such emo
crap is completely foreign to me. Then again, the whole notion of Justin Bieber’s
existence and all of his “Beliebers” is something that should be killed with
fire too. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Beliebers are some of these “Twi-tards”
as well. Personally, I would prefer if they would blow hard on my cock, but
since most of them are minors, and the whole scandal at Penn State fresh in
everyone’s mind, I really refrain from making such a suggestion.
Nevertheless, I just find all of this fascination about
sparkly vampires, werewolves, a suicidal brunette and all of this emo and angst
to be unnecessary. Does that make me hypocrite for preferring all of the fans
of the boy wizard genre over this malarkey? Most likely it does. But the way I
figure, Meyer’s novel series almost glorifies teen angst to levels that makes
depression and suicide – plot points in her series – socially acceptable. I
hate to break it to you, Miss Stephenie, but trying to cash in on the dark
depths of mental illness is not acceptable to yours truly. Depression and
suicide are very serious matters and require for some dialogue between the
sufferer and a friend, parent, or licensed professional. You are glorifying an
issue that affects people of all ages.
I guess my anger about the matter stems from the fact that
when I was a young adult, I’ve contemplated committing suicide myself. I was
lost, confused, and fearful of what lied ahead in my near future, so I thought
about overdosing on prescription medication and doing what I felt at the time
was “the world a big favour.” But the fact of the matter is I soon realized all
of those I would leave behind should I no longer be amongst the living. There
was my family, especially my grandmother, and what few friends I did have. They
would be the ones who would have no other option but to pick up the pieces of
what was left of my shattered life. It was an ordeal I could not allow them to
handle.Also, looking back in the twenty years that have come and gone since I experienced those feelings of distraught, I realize all of the things I wouldn’t have accomplished during that span. I wouldn’t have graduated from college. I wouldn’t have been a champion swimmer or a former Canadian record holder; my classification for the 800-metre freestyle, if you’re trying to look it up. I wouldn’t have been engaged once; although, I will admit we rushed into that – I’ve learned from my mistake there. And most importantly of all in the present day: I would not be the crazy writer that I am, and I would not have Amy in my life.
It is because of all of that I am thankful I am still alive and kicking today. Stephenie Meyer might have utilized the emotional pain many teens and young adults suffer as a way to sell books and movies. But for this writer who has endured his share in his life, trying to cash in on that mental anguish is an insult to me and all of those who struggle with depression and mental health issues every single day. Think about that the next time you go to the theatres next week to see the movie based on the first half of her fourth novel.
