So, Michael, I saw the flick. It was ok. I mean, you did good. I'm not going to vote for Bush. Of, course, I wasn't going to before the movie either, but yea, you've reinforced that I guess. As far making a reasonably entertaining documentary that might make some people think and re-evaluate how we look at our politicians, I say, not bad. It had some slow moments, some weak parts, some pretty flimsy arguments, but, it made me think, and it might make some other people think too, and for that. Good. People ought to see it. But really, when it comes right down to it, I'm just not really into talking about your film, Mike. If yo want to know what people think, you can just flip on MTV and watch that goofy MTV News guy go around and talk to people about it in the soda fountain. As for me, I'm just not feeling it.
What I am feeling, however, is Lindsay Lohan. The little kid that did double-duty as those two bratty kids in Parent Trap will soon turn 18 on July second and recently turned hot last year. Freaky Friday, Mean Girls, MTV Movie Awards - the girl got around. 
My question, as the target for mucho criticism for common masculine behavior toward TV hotties from the long-term lady-friend, is this: what exactly is it that I, and I think I can say, we, feel for Lindsay? For that matter, for any insanely desirable and unceasingly attractive celebrity? Is it love? Lust? Like? Desire? Jealously that we don't have a girl like that? Is it really what they think it is? I mean, do I really sit in a movie theatre and see Lindsay Lohan and say, I wish that rather than being on-screen, Lindsay was sitting next to me instead of my date. No, wait. I wish Lindsay were on screen AND sitting next to me instead of my date. Yea...? Do I think that? Does anyone? Well, maybe. But to be honest, most of the time, and unless the said "date" is a real dud who is already seeing her last of me anyway, ALL the time, no, I don't think that. I don't want Lindsay to replace my date. I like my date, I may even love my date, and these are very different feelings from those which Lindsay inspires. While it may be true that, if given the chance to fulfill some sort of adolescent fantasy involving Lindsay, a bowl of strawberries, a can of whip-cream, and some Ruben, I'd find it hard to pass up, when the strawberry's were eaten the whip-cream was gone to wherever it went, I'd be the one singing Ruben's song and the girl who used to be my date probably wouldn't want to listen.
Here's the thing, I don't expect to ever even see Linsday Lohan, or NP, or EC, or any other celebrity heart-throb, and if I did, it would probably take away from their appeal. Not only would many of the sizzling stars not look nearly as perfect when not all done-up all the silver screen - though Lindsay must surely look even more delightful in real life - but the idea of even considering actually meeting or, even more unrealistic, dating Lindsay or Natalie is both intimidating and terrifying. Intimidating in a sexy way, for sure, but intimidating nonetheless. The point is, there are two different Lindsay Lohans. There is the Lindsay Lohan I see, and think about, and want to eat strawberries with. Then, there's the Lindsay Lohan that actually exists. The almost-18 year-old girl somewhere who, for all I know, is an uberbitch. I mean, she certainly doesn't seem like it, and let me tell you, MY Lindsay is NOT a bitch, in fact, she's perfect. But that is only MY Lindsay, and I will never see, or talk to, or date, MY Lindsay - because she doesn't really exist. The real Lindsay, for me, just isn't that exciting. I mean, I don't know her, and if I did, I would have to deal with all that publicity crap, and there is really no reason to think that she and I would get along. Not to mention the fact that she would be totally creeped out by my wanting to eat strawberries with her. But that's the important thing to remember! No strawberries with REAL Lindsay! Only with the Lindsay on the screen and in my mind. So, when I say I wouldn't trade a girl for any other in the whole world, I mean it; I don't want the real Lindsay, and the other Lindsay isn't really IN the world. See? It all makes perfect sense.
There's a problem though, and the problem is, girls are wack - which means...they will likely be jealous of even imaginary Lindsay. If you've heard of anything more wack than being jealous of an imaginary person, well, that'd be really wack. Nevertheless, that's the way things are, so it's up to me to explain why Lindsay (from now on, all "Lindsay"s will refer to MY Lindsay, the perfect one...) isn't a problem. For this, I'm going to need to borrow the topic of a post a while back from mindovermatter, archetypes. Now, I'm not saying that Lindsay is my archetype for the perfect girl and I'm just spending my youth hunting for a perfect replica. Nor am I recommending that anyone start trying to model their looks and behavior after her. 
Nor do I intend to measure the girls I date against a Lindsay Lohan ruler. Instead, MY Lindsay is a celebration of love, lust, beauty, and fun. Because she is archetypal, and has the flexibility that only a quasi-made-up person can have, she constantly reflects the beauties and traits of the real people that I search for, and luckily, have found, in life. There is no time when Lindsay is more beautiful than when she reminds me of my date. It may also be true that there is not time when my date is more beautiful than when she reminds me of Lindsay, but that too, only adds to intense feeling I can hold for that real person. Thus, my idea of Lidsay becomes not an archetype for the ideal girl, but for the ideal way to idolize a girl - to feel love, lust, like and desire for her. You see, the best thing about Lindsay, or any pretty face on TV, is that so much of her is what I make her to be. So when I, or any guy, sees Lindsay, he is not attracted so much to Lindsay, herself, as to an internal creation of his own ideal, which just happens to have Lindsay's incredible face. For me, I am lucky. When I see Lindsay, I see a reflection of the girl sitting next to me. Thus, everyone is already in the right place - when I look the screen, I see Lindsay; when I look to the side, I see the real deal; and when I close my eyes, I see both...at the same time. Snap!
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