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I committed to write a post every week even if it's crap, and this year maybe you've regretted my decision.
I cannot believe it's been a decade since "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull" was released. I watched the teaser over and over as if that would magically make it be released faster. I wrote "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is released today!" on the top of all my school assignments. I went with some friends for one of their birthdays and I loved it. I found it exciting and funny and original. I know hating George Lucas' more recent movies is the cool thing to do, but I don't, okay? Sue me. I don't hate any of his movies, actually. Not even "Howard Duck", which in my opinion is better than any of the Transformers movies and at least a dozen others I could mention. Anyway, I can't believe how fast my life is zipping by. A tender mercy, I suppose. I don't want to live very long. My tolerance for humanity's nonsense that I find myself constantly surrounded by ran out at least five years ago. I consider it far worse than death.
I don't want Harrison Ford to die, though. He's a national treasure. It was a gutsy move to cast him in the fourth Indiana Jones movie at age 65 and even gutsier to be casting him now, ten plus years later, for the fifth movie set to be released in 2020. We can only hope this will help to reduce American culture's contempt for old people. Disney originally promised that no one besides Harrison Ford would ever portray Indiana Jones (even though he's already been portrayed by River Phoenix, Neil Boulane, Boutalat, Corey Carrier, Sean Patrick Flannery, and George Hall) but now they're saying this fifth movie will be followed by a reboot of some kind. Because of course it will. Steven Spielberg thinks the next Indiana Jones should be a woman. I think if they go that route, they should at least change her name to avoid confusion. They could name her, say, Lara Croft, and call the franchise "Tomb Raider" or something like that. I don't know. It's just a thought.
One of the rumored future Star Wars anthology films is about Obi-Wan Kenobi. TMZ claims to have some details about it. "The report claims the Obi-Wan film is not an origin story like “Solo” but a direct prequel to the original “Star Wars.” The script is set on Tatooine and picks up with Obi-Wan living in exile and watching over young Luke Skywalker. Tensions between a tribe of Sand People and local Tatooine farmers bring Obi-Wan out of hiding." I, for one, hope this is true. I would love to see a Star Wars movie that takes place on one planet with no space battles and little or no involvement from the Empire. Presumably Obi-Wan wouldn't be able to do much with the Force or his lightsaber either, since, you know, he's supposed to be hiding. Hopefully we would see more of the Sand People culture and perspective and no longer view them as mindless killers - Disney could borrow from a Legends story where a moisture farmer befriends them and finds that they have souls after all. This would be such a unique movie and great change of pace from the usual Star Wars fare.
Recently I discovered an online treasure trove of Star Wars fan films that have almost or entirely been forgotten. Yes, most of them have been forgotten because they suck. But I'm wading through to find the gems, and I consider all of them to be worth watching once, or at least worth playing in the background while I do something more important once, if for no other reason than as nostalgic relics of the bygone era of 1999-2005. They make me grateful for how high the bar has been raised on fan films since then. All fan films now are expected to have impressive cinematography, realistic special effects, passable acting, and original music. Some are all but indistinguishable from Hollywood productions. And they're all made available on the internet for free so the filmmakers don't get their butts sued off. This is one considerable advantage of being alive in this annoying and stressful era.
The other night I had this dream where I'm in a car in a parking lot late at night, maybe my car, maybe someone else's, I don't know. But this cop thinks I'm looking suspicious so he pulls up and tells me to get out. I get out and start hyperventilating and coughing from fear, but I figure that's a good thing because it should make him take pity on me. He asks to see my ID and I give it to him, remembering that it's expired, reminding myself that airport security and the jail's visiting center accepted it anyway so he should too. He gives it back and tells me to get in his car. I ask if I'm in trouble. He says no. He takes me to the police station, which is the size of an airport and has a bunch of little shops like an airport, and he takes me to this shop where you design your own trail mix by picking ingredients, and he tells me to get whatever I want. I feel myself waking up but I determine to remember his name so I can thank him for his kindness. I look at his name tag: Michael Post. Thank you, Michael Post.
In anticipation of "Solo: A Star Wars Story", I am reposting this delightful song.
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About the Author
C. Randall Nicholson is a white cisgender Christian male, so you can hate him without guilt, but he's also autistic and asexual, so you can't, unless you're an anti-vaxxer, in which case the feeling is mutual. This blog is where he periodically rants about life, the universe, and/or everything.