The Twilight Saga, part 4

It is no secret that I am not Twilight’s number one fan. The first response I usually hear when I tell people this is the suggestion that perhaps I am secretly a Twifan deep down and am in a severe case of Twinial. This puts me in between a rock and a hard place*, for if I agree, I am joining the ranks of Mike the park ranger, and if I disagree, I am usually slammed with a variety of questions, most of which fall along the lines of, "OMG, how can you not just loooooove it?!" Eventually, every conversation usually boils down to the J-word, and I am accused of being jealous of Stephenie Meyer, Twilight, and the success the former has achieved with the latter.

*As opposed to being in between The Rock and a hard place.

In light of the aforementioned accusations, let it be said here and now (and in no uncertain terms) that there is not a single jealous bone, muscle, or tendon in my body when it comes to Stephenie Meyer or Twilight. While it is true that I certainly would not mind dumptrucks full of money arriving at my house on a daily basis, I also would not want to take the risk I am convinced Stephenie Meyer did—that is, entering a fiddle contest against the devil with the stakes being my soul against a #1 selling teen romance series.

The devil bowed his head because he knew that he'd been beat/ He laid that golden series on the ground at Stephie's feet

When it boils down to it, the scariest thing about the Twilight Saga is not the vampires, the werewolves, or even the writing (zing)—it is the fanbase. Fans of Twilight run the gamut from screaming preteens to hyperventilating quinquagenarians and everyone in between. Little girls read the books hoping their future husbands will be exactly like Edward (or, if they are really little girls, exactly like Jacob). Older women watch the movies and wonder why their husbands are not exactly like Edward. And the occasional guy who stumbles across the series cannot help but wonder why every woman in the world, regardless of age, wants her husband to be a distant, domineering, powerful creep with a thing for girls 1/6th his age.

By those standards, this is as close to Edward as a man can get.

Now, do not get me wrong. I am fully aware that with every major cultural phenomenon—especially with books and movies—there arises a large, devoted, nerdy following. Star Trek, Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, and Harry Potter (to name a few) all have a similar partisanship. All the heretofore mentioned groups have devotees who dress up to attend midnight screenings. All have disciples who rant and rave for hours on internet forums as to why their series is so much better than the others. And all of them even have conventions where fans can buy and sell truckloads of paraphernalia.

What separates Twilight fans from the previously mentioned ones, however, is the level at which Twilight fans operate. I would dare say that of any of the listed phenomena, Twilight has the fans that could most easily filed under "obsessed". If you do not believe me, just go to any opening-day movie showing. Yes, the Star Wars nerds will be in costume and having lightsaber duels; but it is all in good, lighthearted fun. Nowhere do you have girls literally screaming and gasping for breath whenever Obi Wan walks on the screen. (And I am sorry, ladies, but Ewan McGregor is ten times hotter than Robert Pattinson could ever dream of being.)

It's simple algebra, really.

And when it comes to homemade collectibles, Twilight fans take the cake. My mother recently told me about her run-in with something called the New Moon Experience, which is pretty much exactly what it sounds like. And what did she see during her sojourn? Vampire teeth necklaces, sparkle-in-the-sun-like-Edward cream, and pretty much everything on this list. (Take special note of the plush Bella womb, complete with stuffed zygote.)

How this can be construed as anything other than "really, really creepy" is beyond me.

Sadly, Twilight fans, as crazy as they are, have recently proven that they are a force to be reckoned with. New Moon was released in theaters a few weeks ago and—much to the surprise of everyone who has ever watched, you know, an actually good movie in their lives—it made more on its opening weekend than any movie. Any movie. Ever. (Even more than The Dark Knight, which was, you know, an actually good movie.) And thus it was proven that Twilight and the culture thereof cannot be stopped. For if a group of girls can prove that they have more zeal than comic book nerds—who, for the uninformed, are hands-down the most zealous people on the planet—then I suppose it is only a matter of time before they have completely taken over.

Le sigh.

And so it is.  But do not fear, fellow nerds.  Though we may have lost the battle, at least we still have our dignity—for you will never see a Star Wars fan with this on their wall: