Cautionary Tale


What happens when you find out that everything you knew about your father was a lie, and–oh yeah–the woman you love is your sister?

This happens:




I’d hate for anyone to think that I’d ever argue with anything George Lucas comes up with, but it just occurred to me that “picking up some power converters” doesn’t sound so much like “having fun with my friends” as it sounds like “an errand.”

I’m just saying.

Back in the Salad Again

Whoa. That weekend flew by! Remember last year when I blogged every single day? I’m glad I’m not doing that anymore. I’m exhausted as it is.

But Will told me last night that he checked for updates a dozen times yesterday and he was sad. So let’s see what I can throw up here before he gets to work this morning.

Scene One. Sunday afternoon. Will and his mom have been to Target, where she picked up a little set of Star Wars figures for Sam.

MIL: And here’s 3CPO.
Will: C3PO.
MIL: Yes, 3CPO.

This went on for–I’m not kidding–at least a full minute, and might have continued indefinitely had I not interjected to tell them they were funnier than Abbot & Costello.

Scene Two. This morning. Sam is sitting in front of Will’s computer, which is where he watches Star Wars, singing the Imperial March.

Me: Sam, do you want to watch Star Wars?
Sam: No.

Maybe you had to be there, but holy heck, was it funny.

OK, I have to know.

Why why WHY does Ben Kenobi’s ghost tell Luke, “Trust me” when he’s making the Death Star run, rather than telling him to trust the force?

Uh, that’s all I’ve got, but as long as you’re here I will reward you by telling you that Sam now holds all weapons the way Obi Wan holds his light saber before he fights General Grievous.


Though Sam’s version is two-handed. I feel pretty certain that Obi Wan does a two-handed version at some point in the prequels, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to look for it.

Terrible screencap courtesy of my laziness.

Darth Sammy

Sam just tried to put Darth Vader’s helmet on. The only trouble is that his Darth Vader is a Lego minifig, so the helmet immediately got lost in a single curl.

Then Will pointed out that Sam has no idea Anakin, hero of the Clone Wars, is going to become a bad guy. This is worse than telling him about Santa, only for him to find out later that we are big fat liars.


Among other new things he is saying, Sam can (and does) say “Anakin.” He likes to narrate what’s going on when he watches his Clone Wars DVDs. Of course this makes me suspicious about what he really was saying the time I thought he called me by name.

(Last weekend he started saying “Thank you.” Yesterday he said “You’re welcome.” Also last weekend he had a hilarious five minutes at Tom and Katherine’s pool, dropping a little plastic toy dog into the jacuzzi and saying, “Oh no, I dropped it! I have to pick it up,” then doing so and saying, “OK, I got it!”)

That’s all.

You wish you were married to me.

While playing Lego: Star Wars, we notice that Lando Calrissian’s hand-to-hand move is a kung-fu kick, and his dodge is a super-sweet spin and leg sweep.

Will: Did you see that?

Me: Whoa!

In unison: KUNG-FU!

Me: Do you think Billy D. Williams and David Carradine hang out?

Will: Um…

Me: Lie to me, lie to me!

Will: Yes. I think they hang out.

Me: Thank you.

Will: And sometimes, Carl Weathers comes over too.

It’s all right. I know you really wish you were married to Will. Lie to me.

Probably not a comment on Star Wars. I hope.

When Sam was maybe six months old he fell asleep on the floor while watching Star Wars: The Clone Wars with Will.

This morning I just couldn’t wake up, so when Sam didn’t want to do anything but watch television I didn’t even pretend to offer alternatives. I did balk, though, when he wanted Lego: Star Wars, because what that really means is that he wants me to play video games and I was in no shape to do any such thing. So I offered Clone Wars.

The screaming fit that ensued was really very impressive. He cried. He tried to take the DVD box away from me, then tried to remove the disc from the player. He pulled at the doors of the TV stand. He shrieked, he wailed, he threw himself on the floor. Then the show started and he perked right up, like, “OH, hey! I love this movie!”

Little shit.

So he watched volume one and wanted more. I was still barely functional so I put in volume two while he threw a miniature version of his earlier fit. I gave him his mug of crackers and he settled in.

Half an hour later I went upstairs with some real food and he was fast asleep.

Doesn’t look very comfy but what do I know?

When I checked on him again, he’d rearranged himself. If I knew where the chalk was…

(He is alive, I swear!)

Crocodile Tears

Ryan linked to this thread full of photos by Sam Taylor-Wood of actors crying. Some of them look more posed than others, all of them are wonderful, and this one made me incredibly depressed.

More emotion is conveyed in this still photo than in the entirety of TWO STAR WARS MOVIES. Fuck you, George Lucas.