Prof. Kong teaches Love 101

Yes, the movie is incredible, and yes, you should sacrifice life and limb to see it as soon as possible. It is both masterful and electrifying. As I sat in the old Cinerama dome this morning around, say, 2ish, it dawned on me that this movie was not only meeting all my Kick-Ass Action Needs, but it was imploring me to learn as well.

As a lady, I found Kong and Faye's relationship delicious. Kong embodies the qualities that women love about men. Anne acts as the same archetype for men. The two of them together produce this magical, idealistic relationship where the male will fight to protect her with a fierce passion, and the female is thankful and loves him in return. Now, of course this only goes so deep, because Kong never got a chance to forget her birthday and Faye never punished Kong by withholding sex, but bear with me.

He loved her so much that he fought T-Rexes, bit the heads off bats, and even got her away from all that nasty New York traffic. With each mighty strike upon his chest, he was protecting her because that was the only option. And once he had earned her trust, she wanted to please him and show him that she appreciated it. "Thanks for saving me from the dinosaurs, pal. Here, let me do a little dance for you."

The scene where they were in Central Park playing on the ice really killed me. This huge "beast" just wanted this little blond human to be happy. Oh, the estrogen coarses through my veins just thinking about it.

I began to wonder, though, during the Super Gross Bug and Uncircumcised Penis Monster scene, what men were supposed to be getting out of this. I don't think it was nearly the same.

I think it was something along the lines of

YOUR LIFE WILL BE FINE UNTIL YOU MEET A WOMAN YOU LOVE, AND THEN YOU WILL BE KILLED--METAPHORICALLY, AND POSSIBLY LITERALLY BY BI-PLANES.

Isn't that really what love is for dudes? An unavoidable death?

Their existence alone is fine. Perhaps a Single Man's Saturday consists of eating Roman Noodles or Twizzlers for breakfast, scratching himself on the couch, and playing his video gaming system until he feels like going out and getting drunk with all his friends. Few complaints or worries. An abundance of money and spare time. Little to no talking. And then a dame walks in through his door, and the whole deal changes.

She's soft, and smells good even after she works out. Her smile breaks your heart. Her nails look nicer than yours, and she has breasts. Hopefully she likes giving you oral and does it often. Maybe she talks a lot, but you like the sound of her voice when she's happy. You begin to include her in your big picture and she secures a stronghold in your heart. Pretty soon, you're destroying the Ahmanson theater just to get close to her. You take the relationship to a new level (or at least to higher ground). A meaningful glance is exchanged...and then you get shot in the back by dickheads in planes.

You're in love. And you're dead.

Lucky for men, they can eventually be magically resurrected. Sometimes love doesn't last forever. If the movie was real, and this whole entry wasn't a metaphor, and somehow the entire Space-Time Continuum shifted, Kong might have been able to peel himself off 5th Avenue and hitchhike back to Skull Island if only he decided she wasn't worth wasting his life. But he stayed dead. The movie ended.

It was fucking wonderful.

And it makes me want to enjoy a sunrise with my Kong.

beautiful. g