John C. Wright reviews The Last Straw (er Jedi) in 15 Episodes!

Episode 1, 2, and 3 are live!

 

Hello, my name is John. I am a STAR WARS addict.

But with this new, twelve-step lobotomy-via-electroshock combined with savage groinkick therapy known as LAST JEDI, I hope to be clean, sane, sober, and free from Star Wars for the rest of my natural life, and my next three reincarnations.

If anything can break an addiction to STAR WARS, this can. THE LAST JEDI was the last straw.

It was the Last Film in the Franchise I will watch, and the Last Dime the Disney version of Star Wars will get out of me. I am not throwing away my cute R2D2 wastepaper basket, but I am not buying any new toy lightsabers either.

My sad story is no doubt the same as many a fan’s.

I was young and impressionable when I first saw STAR WARS in the theater (This is the flick you young whippersnappers call A NEW HOPE or Episode IV).

The eye-dazzling special effects, the stirring John William’s music, the unabashed and, yes, true-blue American sense of derring-do, adventure, heroism, romance, and chivalry shined like precious gold from every beloved line and frame of the film. Sure, it was Buck Rogers. It was rip-roaring space opera, heavy on the cornball and light on the science. But that was what won my undying affection.

Who cannot love a story of a spunky space princess fighting an evil space empire, aided by a freshly-scrubbed space farmboy who dreams of bigger things, the wise old space wizard, a loveable rogue with a heart of gold, his beloved jalopy (the fastest hunk of junk in the galaxy), his loyal pet Space Bigfoot, as well as a fussy robot butler, and a brave little Hoover vacuum cleaner? These are the most famous and most well-beloved characters in movies. To find their like, you have to go back to 1939’s WIZARD OF OZ.

In those days, before streaming visuals, before Netflix, before Blockbuster, before VCRs, watching a film a second and third time in the theater, much less fifth or sixth, was an expensive proposition. But I was hooked. I vowed I would be a fan for life.

It is with tearful eye and aching heart that I here and now break, repudiate, and denounce that vow.

The prequels were lame, but my faith was only wounded, not killed; and when Disney got ahold of the most valuable intellectual property on Earth, I felt a new hope.

Read the rest…

Part Two just discusses the word crawl

Part Three dissects the opening