The other day my friend, Sam, suggested we go see a movie. We’d just finished dinner and the only movie that started in less than two hours was Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen.
It was awful.
I don’t have to sit here and tell you, you’ve read the reviews. Maybe you saw it. You don’t need me to tell you that the movie is racist and immature with wooden performances and confusing action scenes. It’s a Michael Bay movie, that’s kind of how they all are.
I don’t need racism in my Transformers. (Yes, I’m aware the original television series had its share of stereotypes.) I don’t need to see a pair of small dogs humping. I don’t need someone trying to convince me that Megan Fox is an attractive human being. She’s orange. Like, really orange.
No, I’m not making this about color.
I’d also like to personally thank Bay for making Wheelie– the absolute worst part of Transformers: the Movie– even more obnoxious.
But you know what I really don’t need to see?
Multiple instances of tentacle rape. Soundwave’s co-opting of a military communications satellite is sexualized and whoever the Decepticon Pretender– yeah, they brought Pretenders in– is that tries to seduce Sam, spends the majority of her/his/its screentime shoving or attempting to shove it’s tongue/tail into him.






