Thank YOU, Mr. Bond, for alienating your female fans!

When Daniel Craig was unveiled as the new Bond in 2006 I was psyched.  Casino Royale was everything I knew the Bond films could be: amazingly action-packed and woman-friendly.  I wasn’t 100% satisfied, but come on, look where we’re coming from– anyway– I was STOKED when I first started seeing the new Quantum of Solace posters.  I was naively assuming that this film would fall into stride with the previous film and I was so excited to see what they would do with this one…..But what they did is drop the fu*#ing ball.  The opening chase/fight sequence was as frustrating as the opener of the Bourne Supremacy (wait– who’s leg is that?  is that Bond or do I want him to fall?  where am i?) and then, the title sequence kicked in.  If you remember, the title sequence from Casino Royale was freakin AMAZING.  Watch it here; if you need a refresher.  Talk about raising the bar.

After the shaky beginning, I was anxious for the title sequence; it was a make or break type situation and it started off well enough…until he started wandering the sand dunes and I just knew they were going to turn those dunes into giant naked women.  I was half-heartedly hoping they would surprise me and turn them into something else- anything else!- related to the plot, but no.  And then the movie had to go and suck (think: no plot, every kind of chase scene imaginable, and dialogue that could’ve been written by an infant 2 days out of the womb).  Watch the opener here to see if you agree with me. 

I realize that it’s the classic bait and switch– hook me with Casino Royale and then spout out this plotless, throwback drivel.  Why, Hollywood, WHY????  I don’t want to see naked girating females in my action movies; I want to see men and women kicking ass together (and you know, if they get naked in a consensual and respectful manner along the way, I’m down with that too).  Mark this at #564391 in my list of disappointing action flicks.

I’ll save you the trip: RENT IT. 

my boobs are not public property

It’s hot as Hades here in New York and because of it I’ve been thinking about boobs a lot lately. Like the wise Regina Spektor once said “summer in the city / means cleavage, cleavage, cleavage.” And it’s true! Tank tops, tube tops, strappy sundresses, they’re rampant in this city and most show a bit o’ boob. I myself enjoy strappy tops and dresses in this hot weather, but what I do not enjoy is the (male) attention I get when the twins are more ventilated. Any other woman will understand the boob stares that her top may elicit at any given moment, and it’s frustrating to explain to men–there is no equivalent of such a visible personal body part for men. My boobs are not public property; I do not want them to be ogled, I do not want them to be judged, and I sure as all hell don’t want you to ‘accidently’ rub up against them in the subway.

And yet celebrities breasts, along with their entire image, are always judged and ogled in such a public way, as if their only function is eye candy for the gaze. I found this video through my gossip guilty pleasure, ohnotheydidnt. It linked to a show called The Young Turks and in this youtube clip the two hosts (male and female) discuss In Touch’s recent top 10 list of the best breasts in Hollywood.  Watch the whole thing and become absolutely enraged at the horrible misogynistic things that come out of this man’s mouth. A few choice douchebag quotes, along with my commentary, after the cut.