Confession

I crazy-loved Revenge of the Sith. Like, I was geekily excited about it. Which makes sense and doesn't. It doesn't make sense because George Lucas has real problems with dialogue and character development. I feel bad for him and want to get him some writing classes.

But I was thrilled by all the links to the original trilogy, and by finding out how everything happened. I was morbidly fascinated. That movie played me like a cheap xylaphone. It probably helped that I went with Chris and his dad -- good people to go with. Going to sci fi with them is like going to an action movie with my sister: they just make the movie better. (I never should have gone to Mission Impossible: 2 for a second time, without Janny.) Sometimes I really am a sucker for the cathartic movie experience, entirely guided by emotions. (As opposed to the film experience, guided by reason.)

I now must redeem myself by spending some quality time with my thesis and watching some historically important movies. Oh, who am I kidding? Last night I watched Empire Records: the Special Fan Edition Re-Mix (very jarring, this remix, although it repaired some glaring plot holes, or perhaps re-added the plotline) and I'm trying to track down the original Star Wars trilogy, without all the Special Edition garbage. Okay okay, I'll also work on my thesis. Fine. Are you less worried now?

Why should I have to think on a long weekend?