The House of David

"dawnbreak in the west"

Saturday, December 19, 2015

Can we start calling it a cult now?

An oopsie results in words like "crazy" and "losing their minds" being printed in a major news outlet.

I am now - reluctantly - being brought back to Alec Guinness's position. Guinness at the time was doing tricks for money. I mean, you know, life happens; look what Bela Lugosi was doing at the end of his career. The movie itself turned out okay, and Guinness himself started thinking that this was one of his better works. But later... well, just read on:

A refurbished Star Wars is on somewhere or everywhere. I have no intention of revisiting any galaxy. I shrivel inside each time it is mentioned. Twenty years ago, when the film was first shown, it had a freshness, also a sense of moral good and fun. Then I began to be uneasy at the influence it might be having. The bad penny first dropped in San Francisco when a sweet-faced boy of twelve told me proudly that he had seen Star Wars over a hundred times. His elegant mother nodded with approval. Looking into the boy’s eyes I thought I detected little star-shells of madness beginning to form and I guessed that one day they would explode.

“I would love you to do something for me,” I said.

“Anything! Anything!” the boy said rapturously.

“You won’t like what I’m going to ask you to do,” I said.

“Anything, sir, anything!”

“Well,” I said, “do you think you could promise never to see Star Wars again?”

He burst into tears. His mother drew himself up to an immense height. “What a dreadful thing to say to a child!” she barked, and dragged the poor kid away. Maybe she was right but I just hope the lad, now in his thirties, is not living in a fantasy world of secondhand, childish banalities.

Don't fuck with the Jedi Master.


posted by Zimri on 20:57 | link | 0 comments

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