I take personal offense to this week's theme, since just two weeks ago I wrote about how one of the things I am definitely right about is how grossly overrated Harry Potter is. In fact, Harry Potter is easily the most overrated thing of all time (narrowly defeating Coldplay, ketchup and the movie Garden State). I'm not saying everyone should hate it. To each his own. But it genuinely boggles my mind that people can love Harry Potter THIS MUCH. However, rather than harp on this insultingly stupid theme, I choose to see it as an opportunity to further my bulletproof argument. Let's begin, shall we? If you're like me, you picked up the first book in this children's book series around sixth grade. The story was charming and engaging, and way more interesting than Johnny Tremain or whatever outdated "young adult" literature they were force-feeding you at the time. Harry was our age, and it was fun and exciting to imagine that any day now, an owl might arrive at your front doorstep and tell you that you are officially more special than all the other kids you know (as you had always suspected, smartass that I'm assuming you were). Plus, Harry was so unassuming and seemingly average he was the everyman's hero! As you kept reading the series, you became engaged in the intricate mysteries involving basic anagrams, easily discoverable secret passages and justified rule-breaking that we all imagined ourselves to be participating in when we broke the dress code and wore flip-flops to school. He was a bona fide celebrity in the wizarding world for doing absolutely nothing! He was special just for being Harry. I'm starting to see why people want to draw smiley faces all over these books while admiring themselves in the mirror.
But wait! It gets better. With the help of his annoyingly presumptuous friend Hermione, and the bumbling big-hearted ginger Ron (neither of whom, like Harry, seems capable of having a sense of humor about themselves), he continues to take on such terrifying nemeses as Lord Voldemort, the Death Eaters (led by Lord Voldemort), dementors, Lord Voldemort and Lord Voldemort. Only by the collective obnoxiousness, physical weakness and downright prideful ignorance of his two pathetic sidekicks could Harry shine as a hero.
It also helps that for over half of the series, his opponent has no body. It would actually be more difficult to kill a roach than Voldemort's puny, creepy nape-face. Seriously, pair Harry up with Robin and not only would HARRY be the sidekick, but he'd fail so hard he'd make Alicia Silverstone's weak-ass Batgirl seem menacing. Scratch that he'd make Alicia Silverstone's character in Clueless seem menacing. Even J.K. Rowling couldn't come up with convincing scenarios in which Harry could defeat Voldemort. How on earth could the Expelliarmus charm, which is taught to first-years (read: 11-YEAR-OLDS) in Defense Against the Dark Arts, defeat Avada Kedavra, which is supposed to be one of the most powerful spells in existence that only extremely masterful wizards can employ? At least maintain fictional consistency!
Moving right along. Harry reaches his adolescent years and is suddenly overcome by an 800-page-long menstrual cycle that is known as "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix," also known as "the fifth book," also known as "the one that came out by the time you should have been interested in actual literature," also known as, "Are you there, Dumbledore? It's me, Harry." This book is set to the soundtrack of grating self-pity and contrived self-discovery. At least the final lesson is unique: All you need is love. That's, like, profound and stuff.
Pretty much all of the relevant and important action occurs in the final two books, which is a shame for us snobs who wanted to read Toni Morrison or Kurt Vonnegut at 16 instead of children's books which can be read at the pace of three pages per minute. No, this isn't an English major self-call. I also wasted my time on stupid things like watching "The O.C.," but at least there were a few likeable characters involved.
So yes, I admit it, I have failed to obey the one rule I live by: Educate before you hate (or in Lil Wayne's words: Informate before you speculate).
And I really don't care. Even if my only knowledge of Harry Potter came from Wikipedia, I would still be confident that there is no justifiable reason why our generation should be so obsessed with a CHILDREN'S BOOK SERIES as to pre-order the books months ahead of time, stand in absurdly long lines for the midnight movie premieres, have hysterical meltdowns at the thought of someone giving away the ending or dedicate an entire Mirror issue to the subject. The day I want to reflect upon my life through the lens of a fictional world of magic populated by self-pitying teens, repetitive plotlines and predictable villains is the day I want someone to take me out back and shoot me.
