Stephenie Meyer,
As if it wasn't bad enough that you've infected our American tween culture with a cultural bloodlust to rival the Tamagotchi, now you've gotta find a way to rope music snobs the likes of which haven't purchased a single film soundtrack since Mogwai teamed up with the Kronos quartet for "The Fountain's" score musings. Your forcing credible indie music into this tasteless masquerade of teen-pregnancy-meets-Underworld is about as tactless as a joint birthday for Seth Rogen and Hitler and it reeks of the kind of money grab that makes the War on Terror look like white collar crime.
First off, vampires don't sparkle in the sunlight like Mariah Carey in glitter. They erupt into a volcanic pillar of fire and smoke; similar to Amy Winehouse's reaction to a crucifix in her vicinity.
B.) having an ageless vampire who's survived a few centuries only to fall in love with a high schooler isn't poetic; it's factually illegal. I don't care if you are the fashionably undead, statutory rape makes God cry (at least that's what the judge said).
And 3, suck it, Team Jacob.
Sure, it sounds all innocent and good to pair up Vampy Weekend with pretty prick Pattinson but think about the children. This is only the beginning. How are you going to feel when your children's children are going to have to hear Titus Andronicus on the Boxcar Children soundtrack? What about Sufjan composing R.L. Stine's Goosebumps big screen debut? Or Animal Collective on the Baby-sitter's Club?
Right now, we're giving these indie icons the go-ahead to go ahead and piss out a tune to make a buck or two. I, for one, am going to stick to my guns and let them know I AM NOT AMUSED.
And I'll only buy one copy of the soundtrack.
