Under the cut because I just realized how long this rant was.
1. Every Single One of Those Stupid Treecats in the Honor Harrington series
Okay, technically more than one "character," but I figure carpet bombing of two planets would finally wipe these suckers out. In the Honor Harrington series the Treecats are Mary Sues. The people the Treecats latch on to are Mary Sues, including the rapidly devolving Honor Harrington. They are special! They are telepaths! They are smarter than people! They are stronger, faster, and more deadly than people! They only choose the bestest people evah to bond with! They've got a plan to spread out from Sphinx and settle on new worlds! HHHHHAAAAAATTTEEEEE! The only thing that'll redeem these little bastards is if it turns out they have a plan to conquer the universe using their human patsies as the front men.
2. Honor Harrington of the Honor Harrington series
Can't leave her out. This makes me sooooo weep. She used to be a fave. Why do I want to punch her in the face? Read my old rant about it here.
2a. Anita Blake from the Anita Blake series
These books were once my crack. Poorly written. Bad characterization. Shaky world-building. But Anita rawked. Then she became a Mary Sue. The books descended into suckitude as formerly good characters turned into assholes for no reason. Assholes were introduced and we were supposed to love them because they were assholes and because Anita loved them. *ptui* Edward needs to come back and kick some ass, starting with Anita's skanky, self-righteous, 'ho, ass.
3. The Boy in The Giving Tree
I adore Shel Silverstein, don't get me wrong. But what drugs was he taking when he wrote this little number? I nearly got kicked out of CCD class when I was 8 because I thought this book was bullshit and wasn't afraid to say so. My darling brother had the same experience. I call it: The Dummy's Guide to Co-Dependence and Being an Ungrateful Bastard. As the years go by, my hatred of this book, especially the "little boy" who takes and takes and takes and takes from the Giving Tree and never once says so much as 'thanks' has only grown. In CCD I was yelled at for saying the story suck-o-ed the big-weiner-o (I was more polite because I was 8 years-old) because (get this) the CCD teacher was billing it as an example of how God is all-loving and all-giving. Meanwhile, I'm all, "It's a tree with feelings and the boy is mean for taking everything and then sitting on the stump that's left without once, not once, saying thank you." HAAAAAATE!
Years later, my mother was actually thinking of buying this waste of paper for a gift. My brother and I were on her like white on rice and talked her out of it. When she asked us why the hate, we said in unison, "The boy's an asshole for taking advantage of the tree! He didn't say thank you! And why is the tree a 'she' anyway? Hunh? You're saying it's okay for a boy to walk all over a girl? That it's okay for a kid to whine until he gets his way with his mother?" Mom didn't stop grinning for three days after that.
4. Heathcliffe from Wuthering Heights
Ahhhhhh, yes. The source of all my intense hatred for obsessed romantic heroes. Again, I was the only wacko who didn't get this ass in either high school or college. Every teacher I had concluded that there was something "wrong" with me for not seeing Heathcliffe as the great literary romantic hero he was. I saw him just fine, thanks. There ain't nothing on this or any other planet that'll convince me that he was nothing less than a rabid dog who needed to be put down. He stalks the object of his affection, makes her miserable, insults her husband on a regular basis to make himself look better, marries his sister-in-law and proceeds to make her life a living hell because she's not Catherine, and then when he dies, he wants to be burried so his bones can mix with his "beloved's" bones. Duuuude, you and Catherine were playmates when you were kids. That doesn't mean you own her. Granted, Catherine was a screwed-up little puppy herself, but you needed to be locked up. Better, you needed to be killed. Frankly, if I had a yo-yo like this in my life, first I'd get a restraining order, then I'd buy a gun. And after I shot the son of a bitch, I'd tell the cops, "I did it. I'm glad I did it. I'm only sorry that I can't bring him back to life so I can kill him again."
5. The "Narrator" in that song, I've Never Been to Me by Charlene
Seriously. What's the point of this? Woman sees random frazzled lady at the end of her rope because she's a "regimented wife" with kids. Proceeds to brag about all her great adventures around the world, and then whines that "I've never been to me." Check out these lyrics:
Oh, I've been to Nice and the isle of Greece
when I sipped champagne on a yacht
I moved like Harlow in Monte Carlo
and showed them what I've got
I've been undressed by kings
and I've seen some things that a woman ain't s'pose to see
I've been to paradise but I've never been to me...
Ahem. Lady? Shut the hell up. I want your life. If you don't want it, I'll take it off your hands. Free. Hell, I'll pay you. On second thought, I'll just punch some sense into your head until you stop whining. Accept that you had a freakin' fun life up to this point, and then pick yourself up and go out and do whatever you think is the "right" thing, 'kay? History tells us that there's always a second act if you really, really want it. Besides, if you've had it that good in the past, you've probably got a nice little nest egg and you can go out and buy yourself some love. Just sayin'. Then again, if you're whining about globe-trotting, you probably blew it all on coke. In which case, I have no sympathy. Go away.
That feels goooooood.
Technically more than five, but I feel better now.