Forest Gump, Public Enemy
I was babysitting for my sister's two children one afternoon. The kids would not go outside, they would not eat, they would not do anything without clutching my leg and whining to death about being "bor-red" in a singsong tone that was enough to strangle out of them. In a moment of desperation, I flipped on the television and popped in nearest video, "Forest Gump." I had never seen the movie before, and I sat down, excited to see a critically acclaimed film about a man with a mental handicap making it in the world. I was appalled by the end of the video. A stupid man running several times across America, one who though love in the first grade was love at last, and who believed "stupid is as stupid does." Sorry, buddy, if you are so smart as to win high ranks in the military, begin the fastest booming company on the east coast, and learn to walk when the doctors said you couldn't, you should be smart enough to know what to slip on the dick when you are about to screw Jenny.
Yet, we are supposed to feel
compassion when he finally finds Jenny and meets his son, then raises him alone. In any other movie, if a man got some girl in the sack with his blank stare and southern drawl, then hopped town when he got her pregnant, we would call him an asshole. I'm really sorry, but I don't care how insightful you are, comparing life to candy or whatever, if you can do it, you are in no way retarded. Alas, I am an incompassionate bitch, therefore I must hate men. Sorry world, get off my ass. Just because I am able to look past the shit does not mean I am some angry feminist. My favorite question is "Do you burn bras?" Maybe I will be a lawyer...
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