Joseph Gordon-Levitt Is Hotter Than Ryan Gosling
Sorry, #TeamGosGos (or however you writhing band of heathens choose to identify yourselves). I know that you think you’ve discovered, like some horny paleontologists, the best-looking guy God took his precious time to concoct since Paul Newman first started making movies. I know you think you have the Hot Guy Hierarchy on lock. But no. You are 50 shades of incorrect, and I am here to teach you the error of your ways.
I know you’ve been blinded by what was undoubtedly a stellar turn of boyish cuteness and totally legitimate acting chops in The Notebook (we all were), but that does not mean that you get to ride high on the wings of Baby Gosling for the rest of his Hot Guy career. Even if his off-screen relationship with his Notebook co-star Rachel McAdams was the most adorable-yet-not-insufferable Hollywood pairing any of us had ever seen, this cannot be a factor in his supposed superior hotness.
There is a certain hotness to RyRy which is just so hot as to no longer be hot, à la Beyoncé. He is good-looking to the point that it’s almost comical, and his overexposure as the Token Hot Guy only affirms that the charming appearance which was once so irresistible circa 2005 has now become hot to the point of disillusion. There is no boyish affability which makes his hotness more relatable and, ultimately, more delectably understandable. As anyone who has seen his abs in Crazy, Stupid, Love can attest, he has reached the point of hotness which ceases to be registered on any human scale and has now become theoretical hotness, only to be discussed in more academic circles.
Jojo’s hotness, on the other hand, retains a certain uncertainness which imbues the overall hotness with a warm sense of approachability. JGL is someone you could meet at a bar, if the bar was only filled with stunning movie stars who were hot even when they were rocking the greasy, floppy center part on 3rd Rock From the Sun. His longing expressions and pitch-perfect cardigans harken back to a high school crush, one whose scruffy brown hair and charming taste in music make him the stuff of adolescent (and creepy 20-something) dreams. His is a hotness for the people.
Now, I am a reasonable human being, capable of admitting when she is wrong. I welcome all debate for any important topics, from politics to religion to social issues. I know that the key to progress is the kind of conversations where everyone feels listened to and understood, and real exchanging of ideas can occur. That being said, if any of you sweaty peasants try to tell me that I’m wrong and that GosGos is actually the hotter one, I’m going to reach across the internet and slap you in the face. (After, I’ll personally write you up a check for the eye doctor so you can get what are clearly some serious vision problems sorted out.)
Lots of love,
A | A | A
It started with a right swipe, a little green heart. Tinder of course.
Though I acknowledge and appreciate the differences in human experiences, and while your heartbreak is (and always will be) uniquely and completely your own, I must urge you to consider that I have been where you are.
With his hat cocked back, body tilted away from his cane, and right forefinger pointing directly at his audience, Joseph Ducreux commands the attention of those viewing his self-portrait.
I was born in 1990; he was born in 1973. I’m 23; he just turned 40.