12. March 2005 · Comments Off on Okay, Now I’m just Pissed · Categories: General Nonsense, That's Entertainment!

First I was annoyed at what “genius” George Lucas had done to Star Wars. Jar-Jar was NOT a picture I needed added to the freak show that plays in my mind. Episode II gave us a crystal-meth-fueled whirling dirvish of a Yoda, that was good for about 30 seconds of “Woohooooo!” but other than that…YAWN wake me before the popcorn butter congeals on my face. You know the main problem with Episode II? There was no tension in the love scenes because (smacking myself in the head) we know about Luke and Leia. Ya don’t make twins by talking about it, ‘k? There was just too much time wasted there for the “God, Titanic was SUCH a good movie.” crowd.

And now James Joyner of OTB reports that Lucas expects Episode III to be “too strong” for lil kids and it’s going to get a PG13 rating. PG13. Here in the heartland, that may as well be “R” for the problems that’s going to cause parents.

This means that I’m a bad parent no matter how I handle this. Boyo is 8. He’s seen and loves every Star Wars Movie, Cartoon, Coloring Book, Little Reader, and Sticker set that he’s ever laid his eyes and hands on. He owns exactly one action figure (doll) and that’s young Obi Wan. He’s gone through 3 different light sabres. So if I take him to the movie, I’m going to have parents looking at me with that, “You KNOW this is PG13.” look. Folks here in the heartland are good at that look. There’s a fish fry on every corner on Friday nights this time of year, you figure it out.

If I don’t take him, he’ll hate me. All there is to it.

Now some of you are going to hang your heads and shake them disapprovingly and say to yourselves that I’m caving, that I’m too permissive, that he can wait until he’s mature enough. And you go right ahead. Because there’s no freaking way in the world that I’m going to NOT take my son to see Star Wars…I don’t care if it has a X rating and the light sabers suddenly become sex toys and Natalie Portman runs topless through the desert yelling for Jean Reno to save her from Gary Oldman while eyeing the bulge in Samuel L. Jackson’s robe and wondering how Yoda fits Frank Oz’s whole hand up his butt.

Because it’s Star Wars. You take your kids to Star Wars. When I was 16, 17 and 19 I went to Episodes IV, V, and VI, sometimes over and over and over again. I watched the videos with my nephews, sometimes over and over and over again. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched the 5 available movies on DVD with Boyo. It’s something we do. Star Wars is part of our family’s life. It’s iconic.

So Mr Lucas, damn your once brilliant soul to hell for making EpIII dark enough to possibly be interesting for me, while simultaneously making me an a**hole for taking my 8 year old to a movie too strong for him. Way to pay back 30 freaking years of being a fan.

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