I was elated to see the above e-card because it proves that there are others out there who feel the same way I do: 50 Shades of Grey is really 50 shades of effed up. If you haven’t read the books – aka housewife pornography – or seen the movie, you may be slightly lost. Then again, if you’ve watched any sort of dominant porn in your life, you can follow along just fine.
Christian Grey, 27-year-old billionaire (because millionaire would be too ordinary) takes a shining to poor, little Anastasia Steele. Not because she’s beautiful (she’s not), not because she’s special (she’s not), but because she is mousy, quiet, and introverted, with an unusual amount of sexual inexperience. She’s the type of girl that’s doe-eyed and eager to please, which are perfect submissive qualities in a dominant/submissive “relationship.”
Naturally this 21-year-old virgin who’s possibly never been kissed falls straight in love with this gorgeous, strapping, never-been-seen-with-a-female corporation owner. It probably doesn’t hurt that he’s buying her affection with a brand new 2015 Audi R8 and an invitation to live in his 5,100-square-foot custom-designed penthouse apartment.
Once Ana signs a contract – a contract – that basically legally allows Christian to beat the shit out of her and rape her on a daily basis, he will essentially own her. Well, well, that doesn’t sound very Christian-like at all, does it? Which brings me to the point of this post. Instead of focusing on how 50 Shades of Grey is hot and steamy and something to yearn for, shouldn’t we be thinking, Holy shit, am I really reading/seeing this?
(Spoiler alert) Continue reading