Hiyee! What’s up you guys? I’m Billy Beane’s fake daughter from the movie Moneyball. You might know me from the movie! Or, you might know me because some jerk wrote this mean thing about me. I mean, as Stephanie from Full House would say on the reruns I watch on WGN because it’s 2002 in my world, “how rude!”
Anyway, the thing that this jerk wrote was a long time ago — like 9 months ago. That’s how much time it takes to make a baby! My fake Mom, Mrs. Beane, taught me that. But people are still so mad about the thing the jerk wrote that I thought I should say something to defend myself.
Should I strum this guitar while I talk, and maybe make it a song? No? OK.
Anyway, here’s what I wanted to say to the jerk: maybe you should chill out. Maybe you shouldn’t get so worked up about a figment of a screenwriter’s imagination (or a team of screenwriters, in this case!). There’s lots of dumb characters in lots of dumb movies, so I’m not sure why you had to pick on me. I’m just a cute fake little girl who sings some song by some person called Lenka. Adorably, I might add. I can use the word adorably (four syllables!) because I’m precocious. That’s why my fake dad loves me so much.
Here’s what I really don’t understand — since I am just a construct, a tool used to further the plot in a mediocre sports movie, what’s the point of getting so mad? Would Moneyball have been an all-time great movie if I weren’t in it? I don’t think so! I mean, did you see the way they demonized Art Howe? Ridic!
So why pick on me, a darling, sweet, imaginary entity? And why get so hung up about my song? It’s not the worst song ever written, right (that would be “The Joker” by the Steve Miller Band.)? It’s not even the worst song to ever appear in a movie (that would be “My Heart Will Go On” from the movie Titanic). I’m confused about the whole thing and why the jerk says mean things about me. You might even say that I’m just a little girl lost in the moment.
OK, but that being said, I feel like some of you guys who have come to my defense maybe aren’t helping so much?
Like this person, who said:
For a movie you really didn’t like, you sure seem to have watched it over and over and over in order to analyze it in such detail. You must love watching baby seals get clubbed to death too !!! If you don’t like something, stop watching it. Problem solved.
That doesn’t really help me! That makes me look bad by being so stupid in its defense of me! The concept that you should stop watching anything you don’t like kind of invalidates the entire concept of cultural and art criticism! Not cool! Or the person who said this:
It is a damn movie and you get this worked up over A LITTLE GIRL being in a movie. You obviously have some internal shit going on in your miniscule brain that you need to pick on a young girl. Holy shit, you need mental help
First of all, watch your language! My fake dad only uses language like that when he’s lamenting Derek Jeter’s flip play (but I think DJ is hunky. Shhh! Don’t tell my fake dad!). Second of all, I’m not that little! I’m old enough to have teenage thoughts and feelings! Third of all, I feel you kind of contradict yourself when you say it’s just a movie but then you yell and say bad words and insults. Not helping, person! Also, this:
Your on the same list as the people who sell you fake shit on the jewelry channels.
How come so many people who come to my defense mistake “your” for “you’re”? I’m just a fake kid and even I don’t mess that up. Also…what? How is that argument helping me? And what’s a jewelry channel? And this person…
I bet your mother had to reheat your dinner for you because you were too busy writing this ridiculous rant to come up from the basement and eat.
I may be a pretend adolescent girl, and I don’t even exist in the year 2012, but even I know that the blogging-from-your-mom’s-basement meme is pretty lazy and played out. Come on guys. Step it up. And also, I have inside information that the jerk who wrote this is perfectly capable of eating while writing ridiculous rants. You can do both! I wonder if he was eating mac n’ cheese when he wrote about me! I love mac n’ cheese.
So anyways, I guess my point is: you guys are not helping my cause. If you want to defend a fake child in a movie, you should maybe first remember that she’s fake. And then remember how to spell and form sentences? Just a thought. Like, if I were going to defend myself, I would say that I’m a necessary device to round out my fake Dad’s character, and that even though it feels cheap and sudden when he turns down the Red Sox job because he remembers I exist, you can still make a case that that’s a thing that might happen in real life.
Oh, who am I kidding?
I’m the fucking worst.