A long time ago...in a geek convention far far away

I consider myself a true Star Wars fan.

Although I'm not a total dweeb who flaunts his geekdom by flooding the house with anything from C-3PO and R2-D2 lunchboxes to those uber-expensive 'realistic' lightsaber toys and whine and moan at what George Lucas did to my beloved series by butchering what was left of it. Nor will you find me in forums arguing with other hardcore fans as to why Jar-Jar Binks's presence in Episode 1 isn't all that putrid; or why Han Solo, and not Boba Fett, is the coolest character to have come out of that universe. I look at it the way I look at other films I admire. Just a movie, and not a blueprint on how to live your own life. I'm constantly amazed at the passion some fans show every time I come across anything on the net that is remotely attached to the series. You'd even read arguments that give an impression that if the two debaters see each other in person, they'll go after each other's throats with extreme prejudice. Fascinating really, considering what they're arguing about to the point of threatening old testament-style wrath to each other is only the figment of one man's imagination. 

A typical scholarly debate on a certain topic:

JediMasterKen: COUNT DOOKU CAN'T BEAT DARTH MAUL EVEN IF HE MASTERED MAKASHI (FORM II) TO THE HIGHEST DEGREE. MAUL HAS MORE EXTENSIVE KNOWLEDGE OF OTHER SITH MARTIAL ARTS LIKE JAR-KAI. NOT TO MENTION HE'S ALSO YOUNGER AND MORE AGGRESSIVE.

Darth Bored: I DISAGREE. MAKASHI REQUIRES INTENSE CONCENTRATION AND FOCUSED ATTUNEMENT TO THE FORCE. NOT TO MENTION HE WAS ALREADY A FORMIDABLE JEDI LIGHTSABER DUELIST BEFORE HE WAS EVEN A SITH LORD. DARTH SIDIOUS DID NOT EVEN BOTHER TO TEACH HIM ADVANCED LIGHTSABER TECHNIQUES BECAUSE HE ALREADY KNEW TYRANUS(DOOKU) WAS ONE OF THE UNIVERSE'S BEST SWORDSMAN. HE WAS SO GOOD HE DIDN'T EVEN NEED TO RELY ON THE FORCE WHEN HE ENGAGED IN LIGHTSABER COMBAT. REMEMBER MAUL LOST TO AN APPRENTICE (OBI-WAN).

I don't think I need to show where this conversation leads to. Arguments like these can be compared to a religious or political debate. It's an argument with no end. Nobody wants to back down. And when all logic, fact, and reason fails, everyone resorts to personal attacks.

But what really amazes me about it is where the hell did these people get that kind of information? Fanficition maybe, but to speak about it like it was as real as describing how the flushing mechanism in the toilet bowl works is a bit unnerving. I'm sure it wasn't discussed in the movie, and I was also pretty sure that Maul could kick Dooku's ass based from what I saw, but upon seeing the other guy's very enlightening exposition, I was impressed. 

Do people like these really take the movie THAT seriously? Although you'd also hear these kind of heated arguments from LOTR or D&D fans, it is not as attention-grabbing because you know the so-called facts they throw at each other were taken from books and novels. What separates Star Wars though, is that it was a movie before some materials of it were adapted in book form (most are children's storybooks and novelization of the series), and that the movies didn't even cover half of what the two geniuses above are arguing about.

I have complaints about the movies myself--especially Lucas's take on pumping a vat full of steroids in the original trilogy (IV-VI) and dubbed them "Special Editions". Not only were the "upgraded" scenes useless, but totally looked artificial and only alienated scores of fans and myself from the original feel and nostalgia of the classics. What made the original movies classics were their imperfection. Other than that, the newer installments were not bad. 

The problem with movies like these is that every fan feels like he can do a better job than the people who created it. Some people felt like they died just because the author/director did not take the film the way they wanted it to go. Take it a little more higher in the obsessive scale and you'd have a person not unlike the Stephen King villain in 'Misery'. It's either that, or the 40-Year Old Virgin.

Those Carrie Whites

I was ambushed by a sudden rainshower halfway from the office to the nearest train station on my way home from work. I headed to Megamall to kill time and to wait for the rain to subside. I usually loiter around bookstores. Nobody gives a damn whether you’re gonna buy something or not anyway. Unlike clothing shops where they have annoying personnel trailing you as if you’re a parolee up to no good. I was contemplating on opening the SWAMP THING graphic novel I’ve seen during my last visit, when I came upon the Stephen King section of the shop and found an opened copy (the plastic wrapper of the paperback was shoved unceremoniously between The Stand and Insomnia) of his first bestseller Carrie. I haven’t read the book but I saw Brian De Palma’s movie adaptation in Betamax back when I was in third grade.

I rented the video, of all places, in a squalid billiard hall that also moonlighted as a video rental store (carrying mostly x-rated flicks that starred 80s porn stars like Ginger Lynn, Traci Lords, and Seka) found in the center of the local flea market in our town. I just got a hair cut from my barber a few doors down when I passed by the place and saw the hall screening what looked to be a zombie movie (The Return Of The Living Dead, actually.) and found, to an 8-year old’s amusement and delight, the shelves by the TV stacked with hardcore, original copies of Beta and VHS tapes with titles like “Behind The Green Door”, “Oiled For Orgasms”, “The Ballbusters”, “Taboo”, and probably 20 other titles that are way too obvious even to a third grader. 


The clerk, an elderly woman eating a banana-cue regarded me with a menacing stare that is, again, another synopsis in belaboring the obvious. I knew even if I had a million bucks the clerk would even STOP TO THINK about letting me rent those. And I was far from being being a millionaire. I was a snotty-looking kid with only 20 bucks spare for a single video. I liked horror movies---and I still do---so I looked for anything that could fill in for the skin flick that I should’ve rented. It’s a good thing it’s all original copies; bless the seaman who owned the joint, at least you’d get a rudimentary idea on what the movie’s all about by reading the synopsis in the jacket. I saw Carrie. I Saw Sissy Spacek’s blood-soaked image at the back of the tape. I saw the name Stephen King. I forked the twenty and jumped the nearest tricycle back home.

The movie was, for the most part when I was watching it, just okay. But not scary in the “zombie-psycho slasher-aliens from outer space” type of scary. John Travolta was in it, and I hated him then because of his Saturday Night Fever dance number and the film looked outdated and so big a relic of the 70s---a decade that I really loathed---that I was a bit nauseus on some parts. But most of all I hated it because it reminded me so much of a classmate named Rio.

She transferred to our school during first grade (our class was together since kindergarten); and everybody was more than willing to alienate the new girl with a dumb look on her face. Stephen King described it as “bovine-like” and it’s true. Class freaks do have the expression of total submissiveness and apathy akin to that of cows about to be lead to the slaughterhouse. She was not pretty to start with, and kids at this age are brutally frank and cruel in expressing their dislike to a person who’s not likable at all. She was the butt of all jokes, even earned the moniker “Rio Kalbo” courtesy of the meanest duo ever to walk the grounds of WVSU Elementary School SEAFDEC Campus: Peter and Paul---the twin masters of disasters from 1st to 6th grade. The class bullies. Every student has had a taste of the two’s nastiness but Rio got the heaviest blows most of the time. 

And every time everybody’s ganging up on her I participated and razed her with extreme prejudice as well. There was something about her not being pleasant to look at and not acting like a normal girl does that just makes it feel extremely good to hate her---even if she did not do anything to you, much less look at your direction at all. After the heckling stops she’d just go back to her seat and take out a textbook and pretend to read while others resumed their everyday elementary business. That was the only reprieve she had. Once or twice I caught her wiping her eyes like there was some irritant stuck in them and knew she was crying. The entire class and I enjoyed seeing her suffer. This went on for six years. I can only imagine how ecstatic she probably was when we graduated. I don’t know. I didn’t notice. I was too busy with myself to even notice she was there.

I didn’t think about her again until I read the foreword to the book just a few hours ago. It’s about Stephen King’s personal experience with the “Carrie Whites” in his school and I realized how very close they were to my own.

Feeling bad about it won’t change a thing.

I wonder how those twins are holding up?

Revenge Of The Sith

I watched the opening of STAR WARS Episode III: Revenge Of The Sith last night. I was nervous as I entered the theater with my girlfriend. I realized this was the second time I am actually gonna see a Star Wars movie in its opening day just like I did with The Phantom Menace back in 1999 ( I caught Attack Of The Clones in its regular screening.). I didn't hate that movie but I didn't like it either (I realized this a few days after the novelty of the kickass lightsaber duels wore off.). That is actually much worse. Better to hate something with passion than be indifferent to it. It seemed flat and devoid of any likeable characters to root for. For the first time, I agreed with the critics. 

The critics.Those mindless, uptight, artsfy-fartsy morons whose idea of a good movie is a 5-hour snoozefest average people couldn't comprehend because they're not "classy" enough to understand it. I read the reviews to amuse myself on how those know-it-all-snobs couldn't get it and found, to my regret, that most of their observations---put downs actually---were correct. 

I was disappointed and hoped the next movie would be okay. Then Attack Of The Clones opened and only Yoda's lightsaber duel with Macchiavelian separatist/Sith Lord Count Dooku was memorable. That, I thought, was it. There goes the last shred of whatever childhood wonder I had for the series down the drain. But in the back of my head I was hoping Episode 3 could pull it off.

A few days before opening night I saw a copy of Time Magazine with Darth Vader on the cover. The article said it was good so I thought that could at least account for something--nearly all the reviews I read about the previews two films hardly ever used the word 'good' in them anyway. What the hell, watch it.

For me, part of the pleasure in watching the SW films is the opening drum roll for 20th Century Fox logo seguing to 'A long time ago...in a galaxy far far away..." to the opening bars of the all too familiar score by John Williams to the introductory summary of what's happening down to the panning of the camera to a spaceship or space station. So as these things were happening during the first few minutes of E3 I felt the same joy I felt while watching THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK on VHS for the nth time when i was in grade school. So about the movie. What can I say? Even if it did feel a little clunky in some parts, it wasn't the total crap I feared it will be. 

The Force, though not as strong as it was, is still with me after all.