A non-review of Transformers 2
Michael Bay's Transformers is one of the worst films I have ever suffered through. I found it abrasive, interminable, soulless, joyless, senseless, stupid, insulting, aggressively unfunny, completely devoid of anything recognizably human and frankly painful to endure. I saw it with some close friends who didn't think it was that bad. Guys, I love you, but I think I went home that night questioning everything I thought I knew about you and the nature of reality.

But I have no one to blame but myself. I remember asking myself, how could giant robots smashing each other not be fun? And so, even though I knew Transformers was directed by Michael Bay, and even though I knew I couldn't stand Michael Bay's films, I went and saw it. There's a scene in an early episode of Arrested Development that serves as a perfect metaphor for my experience:

Michael Bluth opens the refrigerator. Inside is a paper bag with a note on it that reads, "DEAD DOVE, Do Not Eat!" Michael grabs the bag, opens it up and looks inside. He then says to no one in particular, "I don't know what I was expecting."

Point is, I'm staying the fuck away from the sequel.