Me and Star Wars are breaking up.
No, it’s cool, really. It was a long time coming. As you well know.
I mean, in the beginning, it was all hearts and flowers. Real romance. Star Wars
showed me things I never thought possible. Whole new worlds opened up to me. I
never felt so free, so alive, as when we were together.
Sure, she turned dark on me after a while. But, to be perfectly honest, I
really liked it. I was attracted to the danger. She had this seedy underside.
Bounty hunters, hands getting cut off . . . and big secrets revealed. Vader was
Luke’s father. Wow.
I guess that’s what made the teddy bears all the more jarring. After something
so dark, all of a sudden, Star Wars is cutesy. From nowhere, I might add. And
to so ignominiously dispatch of her dark, shadowy, bounty-hunter-ridden self for
this ‘kinder and gentler’ Star Wars was a joke. Even the excitement
at the end wasn’t enough to keep me around. I had outgrown her.
It didn’t mean that I didn’t miss her. We stayed in touch for a long
time. I’d occasionally visit. We’d hang out, catch up, and talk about
the old times. I almost always left when she trucked out the teddy bears, though.
I wasn’t THAT desperate.
Then, after, what, twenty-five years, she came back to me. It should have been
good, but it wasn’t. She had changed, and not for the better, either. Where
was the good old Star Wars? The kinda sinister Star Wars? And to completely denounce
her past like that (I know now it was her dad talking) felt a lot like having
the girl who took your virginity show back up and act like she didn’t know
what you were talking about.
The trouble was, just about everyone else bought into it. “Oh, Star
Wars, we love you, and blah blah blah.” No one was calling her on her
bullshit. She got so worked up about it that she decided to stick around an
re-establish herself. “It’ll be different this time,” she
promised me. “Better, faster, more interesting.”
And like a fool, I believed her.
Prequels? Please. I should have known when she changed her name like that. Oh,
the trappings of her former self were there: certain characters, certain situations,
and certain familiar tropes. And she looked great. I mean, really, they did a
lot of work on her. Cher would be proud. Talk about Botox.
But it wasn’t her. It wasn’t Star Wars. Her father’s hands were
all over that little hatchet job. Why won’t he just leave her alone and
let her live her own life? I don’t know. I think he’s living vicariously
Well, I’d had enough of it. I walked away. You know this, you were there.
But do you know what she did? She begged me to come back. I said no. I can’t,
I won’t do it. Not anymore.
Then she brought back the bounty hunter.
It was an apology, sure, and a pretty good one, at that. In spite of a lack of
narrative, drive, character, and content that I really used to enjoy, it was a
pretty sincere apology. She told her dad to back off and I think he did, for a
Well, here she comes again. She’s promising a lot of things that I don’t
think she can deliver. “This one is the one. It’s the thing that made
Star Wars what it is. There would be no Star Wars without this.” It’s
not that I don’t believe her anymore. It’s that I don’t think
she can tell anymore if she’s telling the truth or not. Her father has her
so convinced that it’s all about him that she’ll say ANYTHING to try
and get me back. Frankly, I’m just tired of buying into her bullshit. I
mean, when milk goes sour in the fridge, do you put it back in the fridge and
think that it’s going to become good again? No, you dump it down the drain.
She’s already hurt some people with her first two comebacks. I have decided
that she won’t hurt me. Anyway, thanks for listening. I’m telling
you this because I have to get off the treadmill, break the cycle. Here, here’s
all of the stuff from our relationship. Do me a favor and destroy it all. I don’t
care what you do with it, and I don’t want to know.
When 2005 rolls around, I will be firm in my resolve. I expect I will have
moved on. I think Lord of the Rings is about to break up with whoever she’s
seeing . . . .