I've always kind of admired Sex and the City. Even though I'm not quite the target demographic, I appreciate the world it created and how much fans loved it. I mean, how can I criticize Sex and the City fans when, as I type this, I have a twelve-inch action figure of Boba Fett staring at me from across my desk? It's a two-way street here: Just as I find it hurtful when someone dismisses me as "a Star Wars geek"—it's a lot more complicated than that—I, in good faith, would never criticize someone for being into Sex and the City. So, when I saw Sex and the City 2 on Tuesday night, I went in with the attitude that I was going to see it from a fan’s perspective, through the same favorable eyes as I would watch a Star Wars film.

But even under those conditions, Sex and the City 2 is terrible. What Sex and the City 2's awfulness did do was trigger something in me, "a presence I’ve not felt since...,” if you will, a little over eight years. Yeah, I felt like I was watching the equivalent of Star Wars, Episode II: Attack of the Clones.

Look, I never in my life thought I would have anything in common with the SATC crowd. But, just like us Star Wars fans, you girls have yourself a turkey of a film, and a borderline racist turkey at that. (We've been there, too! Remember Jar Jar Binks?) Let me, as a Star Wars fan, alert you to what's about to happen: First, amidst all the backlash, you'll feel the need to defend your franchise against the critics. You'll say things like, "Oh, those people don't know what they're talking about, they don't understand Carrie like I understand Carrie." This will last you anywhere from one week to three months. But as time goes on, it will become impossible to ignore the facts. Soon, you will feel shame for having ever defended this turd of a movie, and you'll try to pretend it never existed. Then, finally, you'll accept that it was putrid and move on with your life. But, as a fan of the franchise, what you do after that is of the utmost importance.

I am in no way suggesting that Sex and the City fans not go see this latest offering. You have to; I get it. I hated Attack of the Clones and I saw that film three times in a movie theater. Three! But there's a big difference between Star Wars fans and Sex and the City fans (other than personal hygiene). Yes, we also swarmed the theater to see an inferior product—but that doesn't mean we were happy about it.

I know way too many SATC fans that say that it’s not about quality—"Hey, it's Sex and the City. Who cares?" Well, you should care. There were some pretty good episodes of the HBO series and, which put this film to shame, and that should piss you off. I've been there. I tried to convince myself that Attack of the Clones was a good film. But then shortly after seeing it, I re-watched the original Star Wars and became livid. This, ladies (and some fellas), is where you need to be. At some point George Lucas decided that all he needed to do was put some C.G.I. aliens on the screen and everyone would be happy. Now, director Michael Patrick King is pulling the same bullshit: "Hey, let's just dress the four girls in fancy clothes and stick them in the desert. Who cares about a plot?"