Ask the Oracle (Now with your questions!)
Alas apart from the Shirtless Underage Boy who looks like Rafa Nadal (I kept expecting him to tug his shorts out of his crack) I am immune to the enchantments of the Twilight series. Which must be considerable, given the long lines at the cinema this afternoon.
Spot your classmates who cut class to see New Moon on the first day.
I think it is the tone of dead seriousness that kills it for me: the earnestness that cannot be shaken, not even by the heroine’s bizarre love life. She ensnares a vampire and a werewolf. Is it pheromones? Does she smell like steak tartare? I kept hoping she would trip on a stump so Jailbait With Abs would rip off his shirt to bind her sprained ankle. Luckily after his non-secret is revealed the filmmakers do away with the shirt altogether.
This afternoon I was talking to Nanay Socorro Ramos of National Bookstore about their Christmas book donation drive and the subject of Twilight came up. (If you will recall, the heavy importation of Stephenie Meyer books gave the Finance Department the idea of imposing a book tax.) Nanay disappeared for two minutes and returned with a hardcover box set of the Meyer books. “Could you read this and figure out why it’s so popular?” she said.
Until I lugged them home I had no idea how heavy they were. I don’t know when I’ll get around to making my book report to Nanay but I’ve thought up an alternative use for the books.
This is a hugely popular series: fans have tattooed entire pages of it onto their bodies. This worldwide obsession has invested the Twilight books with a power far beyond that of its stilted prose. People swear by these books. Therefore we can use them as an Oracle.
Basically I will ask a question, pick a volume at random, turn to any page, and read the first line of text that jumps in my eyes. Theoretically this line will hold the answer to my question.
For instance: Who will win the 2010 presidential election?
I emptied my mind, picked up Twilight, and let the pages open where they may. The first lines I saw were:
“Are you sure you won’t vanish in the morning?” I wanted this to be certain. “You are mythical, after all.”
The Oracle has spoken! I have no idea what it means, but I will channel my inner seer for an interpretation. Channeling. . .channeling. . .
Translation: The election returns may vanish in the morning, being mythical.
Send me your questions, and we’ll consult the Oracle.
* * * * *
And now for your questions. Today we are using New Moon for divination.
inin asks: What should I be doing instead?
The Oracle: He looked at me blankly. His head swiveled around, and he spied the Mercedes across the street, the porch light reflecting off the glossy black paint.
Translation: Open a Mercedes dealership.
inin’s second question: What is the unified theory for life, the universe and everything?
The Oracle: The light vanished for a second, and then Edward was a faint, white radiance beside me. He put his arm around me, holding me close to his side, and began to tow me swiftly forward.
Translation: The sun will go supernova and be replaced by a vampire.
leeflailmarch asks: Will Twilight’s fans lose interest in the whole fad after they see the movie New Moon?
The Oracle: Staring into his eyes always made me feel extraordinary—sort of like my bones were turning spongy.
Translation: Bovine spongiform encephalitis.
theOrbiter asks: Am I going to attend the Christmas Party?
The Oracle: Jacob must have changed his mind, just like I’d feared.
Translation: If you’re thinking of going, you won’t, but if you’re thinking of not going you will.