Ramblings from the Desert

The man who trades freedom for security does not deserve nor will he ever receive either. ~Benjamin Franklin

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Location: New Mexico

Author of the urban fantasy novel, The Music of Chaos, and the paranormal romance, The Canvas Thief.

Thursday, April 14, 2005

Boycott Revenge of the Sith?

Simmer down fan-wanks. Only for a week.

Glossy new May Esquire mag in the mailbox today. (Remember what I said ladies. Esquire is great magazine for those of us who love men.)

In his "Movies" article, Mike D'Angelo offers the following analogy to the recent Star Wars movie going experience.

SO THIS ORDINARY, MIDDLE-CLASS America male walks into a bar. "Gimme a beer, whatever you have on tap," he says, slapping down a fiver. The bartender, smiling, reaches below the bar, audibly unzips his fly and a moment later produces a tall glass that looks suspiciously as if it might be full of warm urine. But our guy is a trusting soul, and he gulps it down anyway. Big mistake. He retches, curses, and then storms out, furious.

Three years later, the same guy walks into the same bar and asks the same bartender for a beer. No problemo, says the barkeep. Zzzzzip. Handed what again looks like something better suited to a specimen jar, the guy barely even hesitates. Down the hatch it goes, and then halfway back up the hatch again. Tears of rage are shed; and a lawsuit is threatened. Exit the dude, livid.

Three years later, the same guy walks into the same bar and asks the same bartender for a beer.

You're waiting for the punch line. It's not a joke, I'm afraid. It's a parable. The guy is you, the bar is the neighborhood multiplex, and the third steaming glass of piss you're about to be served with a smile is called Star Wars: Episode III--Revenge of the Sith.

For God's sake, don't drink it.

Maybe this time the painstaking care evident in the film's CGI cityscapes will also manifest itself in the story and the dialogue, so that we don't feel as if we're watching a history seminar being conducted at a Renaissance fair. Perhaps Jar Jar will be decapitated in the opening scene*.

(*This girl can only hope.)

But it isn't going to happen. Search your feelings, you know it to be true.

And the solution to the problem, sort of...

Here's the plan ...avoid the theater for seven days. And tell every single person you know to do likewise.

We all know more or less where the movie's going. Luke and Leia's conception will surely be implied in a lush, romantic sex scene, complete with a tasteful fade to black. Obi-Wan will do something to really piss Anakin off. You can wait the extra week.

The notion is tempting if only as a means of avoiding the lines, jammed theaters, ringing cell phones, wailing infants (who shouldn't be in attendance anyway), and the if-I-stop-talking-my-brain-will-start-working jackass in the seat behind me.

For the full article get a copy of May's Esquire.

Cheers,

P.K.

 

Graphics and Content Copyright © Patricia Kirby 2005