Cintra Wilson: Honorary member of the Rebel Forces
from the www.salon.comarticle Star Sex by Cintra Wilson / July 13, 2000
...Which brings me to the topic of Russell Crowe. Nothing in the New York Post recently has made my spleen curl and burn more than the revealing of the snog 'n' tickle "relationship" between Crowe and "actress" Meg Ryan. Crowe is a beer-swilling Aussie cocksmith, a Real Man, a thinking woman's bastard, manly as beef is meat. Somehow, the thought of all that wonderful manliness paying all that manly attention to a sniveling, cynical, cabbage-headed, smirking, inflatable, pseudo-childlike, store-bought half-woman like the underwhelming Ryan is biblically depressing.
Crowe should be using his powers for good, not evil, and picking on some woman who invokes awe and fear. Naomi Wolfe, for example. Some gorgeous Oxford biochemist. Michelle Yeoh. Somebody who kicks ass. Janeane Garofalo. Anybody but Meg Fucking Ryan. Whom the gods destroy, they first make mad. The hubris of Crowe has somehow led to his tragically finding Ryan comestible, indicating the trail of corrosion left by some kind of advanced brain worm. Perhaps next year he will quit acting and, like Caligula, wage war against Poseidon, God of the Sea, shouting on the beach in a vein-popping frenzy.