immortalzodd

There maaaaaaay be a correlation between the weekly brainpunch migraine for the past 4 years and the whole insomnia thing for the past 4 years. Whodathunkit!?

I wanna marry Grendel :[ And speak very softly around him.

Beowulf is an unusually incredible movie. Parts could be compared to 300, but its not nearly as subversive or cheerily testicular. I'm just so surprised at how adult it is, even while fully embracing its fantastic roots. It's also an excellent case for why the rating system has utterly failed.

If Andy Serkis can win an Oscar for Gollum, Crispin Glover deserves 20 Oscars. ALL THE OSCARS.

Oooh, really make sure to see it in 3-D. What an amazing experience! The effect is only used a few times for those cheesy fun moments of spears or blood shooting out into the audience, but mostly it adds an incredible depth of field to the scenery. Much of the movie plays like looking out a window, or something. We're in the FUTURE!

Goats McGee may be the worst bandito in history, the cruelest goat that ever walked the San Fernando Valley, but I think he can find redemption. Do you?

Fuck you, Go Ask Alice. Right in the ear.

BAAAAAABE!

I really miss Riyo >_< I wanted to get a rat for my room, to keep me company, but now I don't know if I really want a rat or if I just miss Riyo.

NUUUUUUUU.

And the Oscar Meyer Panzerweenie shall come upon you.

It shall know you, for the Weenie knows Hunger.

And it shall say unto Hunger, "Free Weenies."

And weenies shall spew forth mightily from its womb.

These weenies shall be free.

And all shall be well in the world.

~Benjamin, 9.19.07~

I'll always remember September 11 as the day Sweetie went away...

AND THE DAY FROM BEYOND WAS SOLD OUT AT WAL-MART. FUCKING WAL-MART. And that's not even counting the other 5 stores I checked at. Does anyone other than me even fucking like From Beyond!?! Screw you, America.

Please allow Shum to steal an appendix for me. Then I'll get baptized.

Love, Benjbunj.

I'm terrified right now, clutching Ryo like a stuffed animal and turning my back towards the windows. My back yard can be kinda spooky at night, especially when the moon is corpse-yellow. I mean, its Suburbia, so the weirdness that I'm terrified of is probably pretty slim, but I can't help the goosebumps. Dav and I were having a night swim, which prompted a discussion of sharks in the bottom of the pool, which subsequently prompted a long, scuuury discussion about all the weird stuff in the world. Everything from flood creatures that find dead to Siberian cyclops civilizations, corpse-hoarding heads in India to Nazi resurrection schemes. And now, I'm too spooked out to sleep.

See, I'm not really that terrified of getting mugged, or killed for that matter, in Pittsburgh, New York, wherever. Honestly, the few times I was almost mugged or attacked while in Oakland were... kinda fun. But that's a different issue. No, its sorta weird to talk to my cousins about spooky things when they always bring up serial killers, or terrorists and what-not. I mean, that stuff's scary, but what really rattles my bones are ghosts and monsters. I figure the hierarchy of spooky stuff would go, from least scary to most:
Human threats - Alien threats - Earth-bound monsters - Ghosts, ghouls, phantoms, etc.

Despite the fact that ghosts and ghouls pose the least chance of physical harm out of all of those, they're the things that just, absolutely terrify me. Its the notion of seeing something that I shouldn't see. The hierarchy is constructed out of a staircase of rationality; in that humans pose the most reasonable threats, but ghosts are just utterly inexplicable. At least aliens are a statistical probability, and monsters could just be evolutionary offshoots, but ghosts defy reason. *shivers*

On a final note, my dad and I were talking one night after watching Ghostbusters about the idea of monsters. When I told my dad that this weird stuff terrifies me, he sorta chortled and agreed. Then, he set up a scenario for me. I'm gonna try to go to sleep and not think about this, but its sorta always been stuck in my head. Consider this, but think about this coming out of my dad, the most fatherly, cool dude, like, ever.

Lets say you have a creature, something inhuman, even fairly large, living in New Jersey. It could be a giant insect, something mammalian, whatever. Just imagine something straight out of your childhood nightmares, given a physical shape, hanging out in some industrial ruin. Consider just the physical landscape of New Jersey, especially the areas closest to New York, Manhattan, the Bronx, Brooklyn, all of the offshoots just teeming with people. Think about the abandoned factories that stretch on for miles in Jersey, huge, empty shelters that every now and again attract the homeless or dumb kids looking for a thrill. Think about something inhuman just hanging out in these empty man-made caverns. Now think about these creatures, lets say a family of them, and give them sentience. Intelligence. Familiarity with human culture. Every year, god knows how many people go missing around New Jersey and New York. Those are only the known ones. Think about the untraceable homeless living around these places, people whom society is easily willing to forget. So you've got a predator, a place of shelter and hiding for these things, and a large and ready food source. Oh, and one more thing. Lets say these creatures have refrigeration. Think about how much human there is, on a human. A good 150-200 pounds of sheer meat. In all likelihood, with good storage, a single person could last a family of creatures for weeks.

I mean, wouldn't it just be easy?


EDIT: It's, like, 4 hours later and I couldn't fall asleep. While I stopped thinking about the monsters and ghosts, I can't get out of my head the eyes. A long time ago, I can't really remember when, I had this really vivid nightmare. It's a long story, but this single image has kinda stuck in my head since, even though the details are shaky. I'm looking into blackness, like a doorframe with the lights out on the other side, and staring back at me are a pair of crystal-blue eyes. Blue like a robin's egg, pale, but intense. Circling the eyes, the skin is bright red. Not even blood red, like intense, fire-bright red. No face, other than the red pits and chilling blue eyes. Still scares the living hell out of me.

At least there's daylight now =_=

I have lived four days in the amount of time it takes normal people to live two. Incredible.

You can find me in the Frick at late hours, tending to my roses.

Queen Benjabub Sara White the Third is now the sole ruler of five floors of the Bee Tower. A mass exodus caused by the Spring Death has left five adjacent floors of the grand Bee Tower untouched, allowing the newly-declared Queen an opportunity to mobilize and conquer with her privateer and sea monster militia. To mark this glorious day, she will be celebrating with film and drink. However, troops will be deployed to defend against the giant snake that consumes the moon every Lunar Eclipse, marking a time of darkness and danger for weaker prey. The Queen's advisor, Lamprey McGillferson, had only this to say: "*squish squaddle schnorgum*."

In other news, later in the week famed explorer Sara LaBlanco is set to make the first Mattress Slide down a record 22 flights of stairs to honor the lives lost due to the Spring Death. Attending her on this perilous journey will be trusty co-pilot Marmalady Octo, champion Olympic tentacler for 12 consecutive years. The slide is scheduled for Wednesday evening, weather-permitting.

Spring Break is fuuuun ^^

Someone told me to write this down, so I figured, well, why not. This is the Tail of Riyo. "Tail?" Get it? Heehee, never gets old ^^

A long time ago, or at least a long time ago to a teenager, I had a friend named Sweetie. Now sometimes you just meet someone who's like your soul-mate, and that's just who Sweetie was. We were such good friends that we spent pretty much all our time together. When I went to the cinemas, she came to the cinemas. When I had work to do, she kept me company. When I spent time with other people, she was always welcome. We took care of each other; I kept her company and made sure her home was always clean, and she helped me get through middle school, being bullied, adjusting, what-not. We were a pretty perfect pair.

Then, one day, Sweetie began to get sick. We had been together for a long time, and she was always healthy before, so it was quite a shock. At first, I just didn't know what to do. My dad and I took her to a doctor, and they... well, they didn't treat her right, but that's not a happy story. Those sick days turned into weeks, and then into months. Finally, Sweetie was just so sick for so long that she had to go to sleep. I felt like she had left me, and it broke my heart.

For a long time after that, I was pretty sad. Longer than people should be sad when they lose friends, my family started to think. My mother eventually started thinking that I needed to find someone else, someone to take up the place that Sweetie left. I wasn't too keen on the idea at first; replacing friends is a little sickening. But after just too long of being just too sad, I couldn't bear it anymore. Now, here's where the trouble began.

I had entertained many small rodents, from mice to rats and everything in between, so as I thought about another pet, I wanted to befriend someone new. Ferrets came to mind, because they're just so cute! Kinda like little autonomous noodles. My mum, however, wanted me to get another rodent, or a rabbit, 'cause ferrets are pretty messy. For awhile, we fought over this. Defiantly, I set down some pretty particular rules about rabbits, just because I thought I wouldn't want one. She'd have to have dark brown, chocolate-coloured hair. She'd have to have floppy ears. She'd have to be a girl. Chocolate rabbits are hard to come by, so I figured I would never have such a particular bunny. Instead, the plan was to outwill my mum, and hopefully invite a Ferret Blanco into the household.

I think... Sweetie knew my mum and I were fighting, and things were looking bad, so she intervened. That night, my father and I went to a pet store in Greentree, essentially so I could snuggle some animals for a little while. It had become a very relaxing exercise. We were late in leaving the house, however, and arrived almost at closing to the store. The employees were just bringing out the new animals, and filling up their Bunny Tank. It kinda conjures images of a giant faucet pouring out baby bunnies into a tank, but.. actually, that's kinda what it was like. The tank filled with little baby rabbits, hopping around, snugging each other, chewing on stuff, all of them no bigger than my palm. Even for someone dead-set on ferret-hood, the cuteness of the scene was a little overwhelming.

It was after a few minutes of petting baby bunnies that I noticed the miracle. Huddled in one corner, all alone, was a deep brown, daresay chocolate, flop-eared rabbit. Life just seems kinda funny after that. Of course, when the store owners checked, she was a girl. Later, we realized that wasn't the case, but she was very young and rabbits have been known to physically switch gender at very young ages. It has something to do with the ratio of females to males in a litter. We still call her a girl, because a., it's kinda cute to have a Transbunny, and b., despite evolutionary laws, I think that's what Sweetie wanted.

There she was. My gift from Sweetie. My miracle. Riyo.

I've been thinking a lot about movies recently. For Three Kings day a little while back, I ended up getting a smattering of favourite movies of mine, especially ones that I hadn't seen in ages: Hook, Sister Act, Dick Tracy, Howard the Duck, etc. And it just got me really excited about movies again, especially hunting down films that I had seen as a wee lass. And thinking about what movies have been really important to me over the years. I'm glad my dad wasn't afraid of watching movies that he liked with me, because, well, that's made a good part of me. There are some movies that I think my friends should just see, to either get me, my childhood, or just good times. I'll get all leaky-eyed a lot, because that's who I am, but it'd be nice to share some of these things with people. And so, the list, with lil' explanations. Chime in with whatever you've seen~!

In no particular order:
Beetlejuice - This was my first theatre experience, back in 1988 or so. Kinda explains a lot, and while I don't quite understand why my parents took me to see a movie about a sexist, bug-eating Keaton ghoul, I totally thank them for it. My favourite Burton film; not his best by far, but my favourite by far. Probably fueled my love and fear of ghosts and neon lights. Ten sandworms out of ten.

Little Shop of Horrors - Sheila can attest, I don't quite cry during "Somewhere that's Green," but my eyes leak uncontrollably, like a mighty flood. This is Sara, the "girl that's inside me." Makes perfect sense why I'm devoted to living for others if you watch this, and pay attention to Seymour's transformation of values. Almost had the worst ending ever. Almost. Probably explains my fascination with monsters and eating human, the most dangerous game. Definately explains my love of soul, even before Mrs. Renee introduced Sister Act into my life at a ripe age of four. Twelve dentists out of ten.

An American Tail - Anyone who watches this movie at a young age will never think of minorities as minorities, but as just people. Honestly changed my life, and my notions of country and home. One of the most deceptively powerful movies in history. Plus, giant robot ghostmouse that breathes green smog. Eight Statues of Liberty, pre-rust, out of ten.

Hook - I watched this movie more times with Adam than I can count. If you think it's immature, we're probably not as close as you might expect :D I can understand its flaws only vaguely, because this movie is my childhood with Adam, the life of Lost Boys, with the occasional fights and scratches, but always adventures and magic. Ben just never really grew out of that, and if you watch this and can love it despite what some call 'saccharine,' you're just a wonderful person, you. Ten happy thoughts out of ten.

Howard the Duck - Just silly fun, an odd cinematic link between my brother, my father, and me. One of the few movies from that time that doesn't make me all leaky. Just ridiculous fun, great one-liners, interspecies romances, and one of the most fantastic villains ever. Nine Dark Overlords of the Universe out of ten.

Monster Squad - Just redonkulous fun. Some of the best suits of the time. Like Howard the Duck, but more mythical and less sci-fi. Same great one-liners, the most precious Frankensteinian relationship ever, and Dracula uses dynamite! twelve "Wolfman's got nards!" out of ten.

Godzilla - Take your pick. Godzilla taught me the values of friendship, cooperation, love, fairness, and justice. Why do I hate CG? Because a man in a suit will always look better. Why do I love gigantic monsters? Because they remind us that we are not the kings of the planet, only another step in the great hierarchy. I've always wanted to do a Godzilla anthology show, exploring theology, mechanization, captialism, globalization, philosophy, and a core sense of values: what it means to be good or evil. But that is a tale for another day. Twenty six or seven films, however many there were, out of ten.

Rocky Horror Picture Show - I saw this, with the appropriate live theatre performance, the same way that forms the parallel story in Perks of Being a Wallflower, with my brother and father at the age of eight or so. Probably the best idea my dad ever had. This movie and Predator are closely tied in the contest for which movie made me more gay. When seeing this recently at Pitt in a theatre audience, ten years after seeing it the last time, I was shocked to find out that I could sing along with most of the songs. Huge, huge influence on my fashion sense, sadly enough. Four cute Rocky thongs out of ten, because I know it's a horrendously awful movie, but I can feel its brilliance, like a train carrying corsets crashing into my subconscious.

Star Wars IV, V, and VI - I don't really need to explain these. Ten unbreakable father-son bonds out of ten.

The Adventures of Baron Munchausen - Looking back on this, I realize that I've seen it really only with my dad, my brother, and all of my close male friends. Funny. My main arguement against ageism is this movie, and it, along with my dad's indominable will, taught me the importance of life despite even eventuality. Quite possibly the greatest fantasy story of all time. A numberless value out of ten, because after all, goddamn sciences and mathematics are destroying the world of cucumber trees.

Ghost Dog - One of my most precious theatrical experiences. The first 'art-house' film where I was consciously aware of its status. A weird, beautiful, postmodern urbane samurai gangster movie. My dad wanted to see this movie, I went with him just to keep him company, and I fell in love. This was the moment that I fell in love with real cinema, movies that don't have to be totally understood or typically entertaining to be important, appreciated, loved. Ghost Dog single-handedly matured my understanding of the film medium. A perfect ten pidgeons out of ten.

The Thing - Paranoia is being slowly assimilated by a bacterial alien life form, not knowing where consciousness ends and begins. This is my nightmare, expertly packaged in movie form. It terrifies me without jump scares or even concrete fear, just a sense of disturbance and uneasyness. Tense, psychological, a "thriller" but with giant, goopy alien things. Other movies have frightened me more, but I've grown past It and the Exorcist. The Thing has been with me since the day we met and melted. Watch on a cold winter night with a good friend just to "see what happens." Ten blood tests out of ten.

Lilo and Stitch - This movie saw a huge transition in my life, from Sara and Ben to me. Sounds silly to use names like that, but it sorta culminated a lot of me into one movie. Goop. Gelatinous aliens. Cute stuff. Love and bonds. Forgiveness. It's the only Disney movie that really rings pure, to me. Fourteen mosquitoes out of ten.

Utena the Movie - Me and Shum, my reluctant prince ^_^ Toki ni ai wa... I think this was the first movie we watched together. Visually perfect. The storytelling in the movie is just weird at best, terrible at worst, but only if you don't pay attention to the screen. It was either gonna be this or Bara no Konrei, and, well, this is actually a good movie.. Ten automobiles out of ten.

Predator - Though I saw it at a young age and loved it, I've really only come to appreciate it since meeting Dave. This is the ultimate man's movie, not as ridiculous as Rambo First Blood Part II or Die Hard, but not too realistic like Rambo First Blood or Southern Comfort. Much like Howard the Duck and Monster Squad, Predator satisfies me in the same vein that The Thing does, but with completely different results and a different pallete. Oh, and let's talk about my dad watching this with me when I was six. Arnold Schwarzenegger running around the jungle slapping bodies together with shirtless bodybuilders? Probably made me gay. Nine pickled skulls out of ten.

Paradise Now - It wouldn't be a real list without this.

And having seen Pan's Labyrinth today, maybe someday it will make the list, too.

I gots me an A on the Chem final ^_^ Which is suprising. I almost wish I got a B, 'cause then I'd be motivated to study for calc... prolly looking at a C in that class, considering that she curves nothing. Muuu.

I've slept about a half an hour and eaten nothing but a bag of carrots today, yet I feel excellent! I took a nice run, climbed some trees, and jumped over increasing high objects. I culminated my evening bounciness by running up to the 21st floor, then gliding down the stairs with my gloves. I don't know why I'm so energetic, I think my body may be digesting energy reserves. Or I'm finally reaching that peak where I require no sleep or sustenance! Must prevent atrophy, at all costs.

So, there's this movie coming out, 300, that you may have heard me talking about. It's got Gerald Butler in a leather speedo and a cape. Uhhhhh *happy* Oh, and he's a Spartan or something, in case you don't catch him saying that. It's a little hard to miss. Enjoy trailerificness:
http://movies.yahoo.com/movie/1809262865/trailer
Is Gerald Butler's glistening chest CG-assisted, or real? The public wants to know! Oh, and any historically based movie with monsters and mutants is good in my book. Any movie where men fight in leather speedos and capes is also good in my book. The dialogue seems pretty terrible, but the visuals are resplendent. Don't know how I'll feel about waves of corpses, but... Gerald Butler's leather speedo beckons my presence on opening night.

More importantly, is this cat saying anything?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ONxv3RnPCIs
Oh Don Piano, indeed.

Had a great idea for a dress a few nights ago. I've done some preliminary sketches, and started thinking about fabrics and solid pieces to attach. I want to make a pink coral corset, complete with tubules and stuff, a flowy, ribbed skirt to resemble tentacles somewhat, some sort of interesting glove/sleeve mix maybe, really flowy sideways hair styling, and a conch headdress. I'm excited, Sheila commented that I'd look like Davy Jones wench. Seriously, just point me toward the application box. I'd oxidate his barrier reef anyday.

Watching Utena makes me wish I had a prince. A real one, like Utena, someone who'll show me the right way.  But, I'm still just a penguin.
~But someday I'll be a penguin that passes through the sky~

I was able to get most of that stuff done, actually, which is super-good. Still have to write my Shakespeare paper and do the Calc homework, but I've gotten in some good studying for Chem and Calc tests so far, so I'm feeling spiffy. Procrastinating is nice~

I found another fan of Cuteoverload.com today, which was weird. We were talking about shepherding, and he mentioned a site that he needed to show me. When he said Cuteoverload, I said that I wished I had eyecapsules. And we understood. From there, we talked about how tragically adorable dogs are that have injured or lost limbs, because after some time, it's as if they forget that it had happened. I've seen injured cats before, and it's really sad, it's like they die on the inside a little. Almost like a person never being able to get past losing a part of themselves. Dogs, however, there's something strangely beautiful about how they'll learn to run around without parts and act like nothing has happened. I'm not trying to start some dogs versus cats stuff going on, and these are broad generalizations for comparison, but it's something I find really beautiful. Has anyone out there read Zorba the Greek? That's what I mean by the way dogs grow over injuries. I've gotten really into that life-affirming thought mode since I saw that hawk swoop past me a week or so ago. To procrastinate, I fished out some of my favorite books about the subject, like the aformentioned Zorba the Greek and Nothing is Impossible. It's not just wanton happy literature; much of the genre is really quite sad. But it's about living with great sorrows and yet still living and enjoying life. Good stuff. I'll leave you with this image, enjoy it:

Busy Benjbunj!

So I have to study for a lab final tomorrow, attend the Chem help session, finish my wire construction project for Wednesday, do Calc homework for that evening, see Mick on Thursday morning, attend a Calc review session that evening, write a Shakespeare paper later that night, fit in CAIM lessons here and there for Friday, study for my Finals in Chem next Tuesday morning and Wednesday evening, aquire Disney films en masse for next Thursday, and wrap Christmas/Birthday presents all throughout said period. Whuuuu.

On the bright side, honeydew is delush. The weekend was tiring :. And gaaaah, I really hate Merchant of Venice >.< If I allow myself to find the play funny, I feel kinda dirty. It's really mean-spirited, the modern equivalent of a blackface joke from the 30's. Uuuugh.

I'm gonna need a lot of late nights. Anyone else in the same boat as me? We can have workaholic nights together.

Imma help my mum cook today ^___^ Because I'll probably be apartment living next year, she wants to teach me the good stuff, as opposed to just the tasty stuff. Over Christmas, she'll teach me how to make delush paella, which I would make, like, all the time for people coming over. Paella is the best group food. We're also gonna work on a spaghetti dinner which only requires the use of a microwave, so if anyone wants an experimental three-course dorm meal, lemme know ^^

Gonna visit M. Watts and Ms. Cecelia today. I'd like to keep in touch with the entire art department at USC, 'cause it'd be nice to have mentors of sorts for getting teaching jobs. There's a lot I have to learn, for instance, do I need to major or minor, and what-not.

Oooh, I got the second season of Tales from the Crypt last night, and watched a few episodes when I should have been sleeping. Totally worth it, even though I'm still sickypoo today. That show is so excellent, and delightfully monsterish. My favourite was this one about a cartoonist who's comic monsters come to life and eat people. The monsterism in that was just off the charts. When I saw it as a kid, there's this one scene that just freaked me out, where this monster just jumps out from behind a corner in the background. Subtle, but very creepy, much more unsettling than some cheap foreground scare. It's really such an excellent show, with some great little morality tales.

Tales from the Crypt taught me not to kill, steal, cheat on significant others, lie, or hate my parents, otherwise monsters would eat me. Take that, Bible!

I sorta realized that last year, when I was updating this regularly, my writing was a little more fluent. I've been doing well on my Shakespeare papers, but next semester, I'm taking two writing-intensive courses, so I really want to make sure I can churn stuff out with relative ease and consistency. Unfortunately, as of right now, I don't have much to write about, really. I'm working on my Chem stuff, 'cause there's a midterm on Monday. While I should be studying, I've been taking little breaks between chapters, and this is one of those delightful moments.

So I've been without dumbells, or however you spell those little weighty things, for awhile now. Rather than just undergoing entropy, I feel rather proud of my creativity over the course of college life ^_^ I've been using gallon milk jugs from my roomate's fridge, a toolbox, or my Shakespeare tome for awhile now. I feel so resourceful! And I just noticed that instead of using my laundry bin to pin my feetsies for sit-ups, I can use this wooden pole that holds my desk together. It would sure be amusing of that broke, though :D

In the basement of the Cathedral, I happened upon a baby lime. He smells delush. I named him Charles, after Charles II, the headless king of England who I happened to be thinking of at the moment. He's gotten all dried-up, though, and now's like a potpourii decoration. Still smells lovely, though.

Wow, I haven't written in this since coming to college. It's good stuff, though. Hard work, and I'm pining to be out of calculus and chemistry, but I'm anticipating next semester with great interest. Shakespeare's just a wonderful class, and my professor's fantastic.

The Duel of Posvar was wonderful. Anyone want to beat the hell out of your friends with nerf guns and funoodles, lemme know :D So me, Dav, Sheila, Parker, and Noah met, at midnight, in Posvar Hall. And commenced running everywhere, getting darts stuck in awkward places, and beating each other up with swords and suction cups. I feel so much like Nong Toom sometimes, trying to balance my utter enjoyment of manly things and being a prim and proper lady. Hmmmm.

I shall try to keep this updated with earnest.

^___________________________________________________^ Amming so Shummy.

HOCRAP, I'm holding Episode III in my hands. I'm going to watch it tonight until unGodly hours. I don't think I made a formal review the night I witnessed it, and having seen the movie about 8-10 times in various theatres alone, I figure I'm able to do it now, having been distant from it for so long.

Episode III is a special movie to me. I've been a bit of a Star Wars nut since the second grade when, on a rainy day, my father decided to give me a viewing of what was at the time a mildly popular, albeit not often seen, movie. See, it had been twenty someodd years, and Star Wars was a faded memory, something that was loved by few, liked by many, and unseen by alot of people. Funny to imagine Star Wars as being an unseen movie. We found VHSs, made in the mid 80's when Return of the Jedi was released, and watched a moment of magic on a casette that was constantly tracking. Something hit me. For the next 4 years, I ebbed between Star Wars fandom and GI Joe fandom. About 3rd grade, the THX remastered VHSs were released, and a bunch of people saw the movies again.

The toys were resculpted and sold to correspond with the movies, and while I was a player, my brother became a collector. Only a year shy of my induction to the Force, my brother and I were able to enjoy something tangible, one of the last times of my childhood. There were days where both of us stayed home from school, just to watch all three, back to back, while Yoda fought an AT-AT in my chubby digits and my brother scrolled through collector's magazines for variants. I was popular at school, for a time, because I had a year in front of the other kids with my knowledge, and my father never tried to ween me off of toys. I could save for a TIE Fighter, while gradually, other boys and girls saw better use of their funds spent on footballs and CDs. The popularity faded in 4th grade, but I still retain a nostalgic connection to the old toys and the old movies, because they were linked to some of the happiest years of my life.

In 5th grade, something huge happened. Episode I. I never had thought about the opening scroll, or why number one was really number three, until then. Zach Hunter and I, best friends in my youth, speculated endlessly on what it would be about, as the Internet was in infancy and newspapers were vague at best. Would it be about Yoda? Luke's childhood? The Clone Wars? The Old Republic? Nothing that interesting, as it turned out. I liked the movie as I watched it, but as I left the theatre, I immediately regretted buying Sebulba's podracer for $30, two months worth of saving my allowance. I couldn't figure it out then, because I was young, but something didn't hit me like the originals did. I still don't think the main problem was what the movie had, though I still detest Midichlorians, but what bothered me then and the reason I don't own it on DVD now is what the movie didn't have. It had visuals and dated CG, but it didn't have the Force.

In 8th grade, Episode II arrived, complete with my science teacher, Mr. Calvetti, nerding out with regularity. This movie is a contention point with me and most of my friends. Everyone seems to hate it, many think it's worse than Episode I, but, as I've told all of you, I still liked it. It is the worst Star Wars movie, and its existance as such is still a focal point of many debates between me and my dad, but it still deserves the title of existing in that Galaxy Far, Far Away. There was alot of needless political blathering and unimportant sequences made to sell toys, but a few scenes made it work for me. Seeing Anakin, the monster that would become Lord Vader of the Sith, cry in a corner still hurts me. It is a powerful statement against the destructive nature of evil, wrapped in even more dated CG and gimmicks. Nevertheless, I regret not buying it.

It seems so long ago that Episode III was unleashed upon me, unexpectedly. I spoiled myself, knowing that the movie would be bad, and the plot developments unimportant. I was wrong. Without a doubt, it is my favourite movie of last year, of this year, and until GI Joe: The Movie comes out and doesn't suck (hopefully). At 11:00, my father and I stood outside the Carmike, part of a massive line of gossip. How would Anakin turn? What is the nature of Palpatine's scarring? Will Yoda kick so much ass that I bleed? How does Mace Windu bite it? My dad and I bickered playfully, acknowledging the sure dissapointment that was soon to follow. We went in, and sat in silence, laughed, clapped, and cried with hundreds of others like us. We were amongst the casual fans of the galaxy, not hardcore, but not careless, either. We all had some stake, some memory, whatever in these movies. Most of us expected Episode III to blow. Most of us left the theatre cheering. I can't remember ever being as suprised with a movie as I was, even though I spoiled myself silly. It was beautiful.

Technically speaking, I think George Lucas is as stubborn as ever, but somehow, I think he cared about the last one. Not about money, or what the reviews would be, or whatever. I think he really tried, because it's the only one of the prequels that felt like the Force flowed through us. I think Lucas wanted something good to be remembered by, as the end of the series, and he tried his hardest. I think he succeeded. All of the actors and actresses finally seem to believe in what they're doing, even if they aren't that good at acting. I feel like they did it this time for more than a fan following and a fat paycheck. They worked, in some odd way, even though they stumbled and sometimes felt utterly unnatural. It just seems to work, because the acting in the originals wasn't that great, either. The success of the originals and this one is that even though the actors aren't the best, they seemed to really try to do well, and believe in it. Especially Hayden Christian. My favourite actor was Ian McDarmind as Palpatine, but that sucker has experience and just kicked unbelievable ass as the most evil scumbag to grace my viewing lenses since... Christ, I can't even remember. Somehow he pulled off being totally despicable, unbelievably so, yet he's addictive and delicious. Impossibly thin line to walk, but he did it well.

Hayden Christian, on the other hand, isn't nearly as good as Ian, but I thought he tried as hard as he could, and he made it work. Inherently gorgeous, seemingly whiny and vain, he somehow pulled off a perfectly logical transition to the cold and emotionally dead Lord Vader. With the exception of my dad, noone else really seems to agree with me on this. Maybe it's because my dad and I are used to eating up sub-par acting.

Though it's not really important to my liking of the movie, but the CG was the best I've EVER seen in a movie. I don't think that's too biased, because I generally hate CG, and have disliked plenty of good movies for sub-par to crappy effects. It pulls me out of a movie to see something and know that no where is it tangible. Skywalker ranch really put out though, and spent a ton of money, because their effects looked like models! What I loved is that it didn't look realistic necessarily, but it looked like a model, like it was tangible somewhere. The audio effects were incredible as well, from the individual crackling of Anakin's skin as he burned, to funny thinks like hearing Obi-Wan's beard bristles as he moved his hand across his face hair. Impossible, yet possible. Wunderbar.

I was talking to Max Ward about Episode III, and we were discussing how seemingly not many other people liked it. He had a plenty of examples of friends complaining about it, as did I. Part of this is bias, I'm sure, but another part is just a weird and different scale that my dad and I use to judge movies. I can't understand any of the complaints, oddly enough. It's not as good as the originals? So? It's earned its place among that galaxy. The acting was bad? Dude, watch the original trilogy, it's not much better, and at times, much worse. Mark Hammil couldn't act his way out of a paper bag; just watch how he struggles to act meditated in Return of the Jedi. But it worked then, it works now, and it worked for me. I try to be as objective as possible in these things, but it's one of the few times where I just can't understand how someone who likes the original wouldn't like Episode III. If you wanted the original movies, just watch them. Perfection is hard to come by, and impossible to duplicate.

I'm not a harcore fan. I read the comics sparringly. I don't read the books. I don't cosplay Star Wars characters, and the amount of Star Wars merchandise I own is non-collectable, mostly used for playing. By that assessment, I would be a rabid Halo junkie, because the toys are friggin' amazing. I haven't played Halo outside of beating the games. Star Wars, to me, is not an addiction. It's not my key to happiness. But it means something to me. It's a prevailing force in my childhood, and prevalent in every year of my primary education in some form or another. Episode III meant something to me, something important, yet indescribable. Everyone I truly love I've seen a Star Wars film with, and a great many people I don't care for I've seen these movies with. I can leave someone with the opinion that Episode III was a sub-par movie, or a bad movie, or whatever. But I can't understand it. At this point, I doubt that I ever will.

May the Force be with us. Wherever we find ourselves, happiness and sadness, love and war, company and loneliness, life and death, may the Force be with us.