A Long Time Ago in a Suburb Far, Far Away...

The most important part of the Star Wars phenomenon to my generation was not the films themselves, but the folk art we made of Lucas and Hasbro's ubiquitous merchandise. The toys and clothing became both social indentifier, and a means for children to build and communicate their own personal myths. I believe this is why the films have had such a unique influence. They are not just of our childhood, they ARE our childhood.

flickr has a great slideshow called Growing Up Star Wars where you can find even more of these great photos. Beyond the poor execution of the latest trilogy, I don't think they ever could have met the near extraordinary expectations we had for it based on our lives. The new Star Wars films gave us just the films themselves. We did not identify as readily with these protagonists as ourselves because we were too old to ask Santa for a Jar Jar Binks (ok-most of us were). Which is why I thought Lucas' best bet was to make an adult trilogy. We all know that didn't happen.

Enjoy these photos, which harken back to better days-when men were men, and women wore hair earmuffs.

I Just Shot Marvin in the Face!

Sand & Cotton have a great feature on the best head shots (non-porn) of all time. They included the ending of the new Rambo, which I have not seen. My buddies and I were all pumped to go, but someone died on the train (for real), and I missed the connection. Well, this is the ending. And. It. Is. Awesome.



YES!! In the immortal words of George Clooney's cousin, Miguel Ferrer-"War! It's Fantastic!" Seriously, we need more ultraviolent movies like this.

In the next week or so, I'll put together my all-time Top 10 Kill list. In the meantime, drown your fries in some mayonaise.

Quote of the Day

From an article in the New Republic, about the practice of communion denial in Catholic church:

"To think you have done a generous thing for your neighbor or that you have
built up a culture of life just because you voted for a candidate who says
in
his brochure that he wants to overturn Roe v. Wade is far too thin an
understanding of the Catholic faith," he said. Kmiec, a critic of the Bush
administration's Iraq policy, added that Catholics should heed "the broad
social teaching of the church," including its views on war.

The speaker is Douglas Kmiec, a famous conservative denied communion two months ago because of his support for Obama. Two weeks ago, I attended the Basilica in Dyersville, IA with Kara and heard how the sacrament of communion was under attack when received by 'politicians who support abortion'. I refused to take communion at this service. We liberal Catholics must take back our pulpit from those priests who wish to turn them into Republican campaign headquarters. Do not take communion from priests who campaign for Republicans in their homilies or missives, and do not give them any contributions.

Douglas Kmiec is a hero of conscience, and a conservative I will stand up with any day.

I Love Shoes On Power Lines

You can find more images of subways here. If the tumbleweed is the symbol of desolation, than canvas shoes on power lines mean urban youth. Whenever I spot them, it makes me smile.

Of course, if I lived in the city as a child, those would be my Chuck Taylors.

Kick Ass Bo Diddley Funk

You can argue that Mr. Bo Diddley invented rock n' roll. As such, his passing should result in some great appreciations. Well, I haven't found them yet. But Moistworks posted this late Bo Diddley funk gem which I grooved to today.

Bo Diddley was to nonsense what Prince is to purple.

We all knew Diddley,
Mike

The Royal Club

Writers block sucks (and doesn't really exist physiologically, but that's a whole other post). Many times you just have to steal ideas where you can get it. So from time to time I'll post photos which I riff off. Today's photo is from here.

The Royal Club

What magic mix

wines beer & music

a smile plastic

wines beer & smoke

lust from longing

wines beer & women

fears long gone

wines beer & company

a transient state

wines beer & remorse

Joki, II

“Hey mate,” Joki says to the bartender. “Can I use your phone?”

The barkeep points to a table at the far end of the bar. Joki walks past the jumpy, sawed off Hispanic guy drinking off a coke binge and two useless twats with mesh hats watching the Cubs game.

“Is this line secure?”

“Hello to you too, Lesley.”

“Is this line secure?”

“Sure.” Talking to Lesley on the phone made Joki feel like he was auditioning for a role already cast.

“We have a situation.”

“OK.”

“Are you calling us from a pub? I thought you said this line was secure. We gave you a phone, correct?”

“Sure, and you’re lucky I keep the beeper handy.”

“Daedalius has been kidnapped.”

“What?”

“Yes, you see? Call us from a pay phone.”


At a McDonald’s down the street, Joki dials headquarters.

“He joined a rock band. And now he’s gone.”

“I thought you said he was kidnapped.”

“Yes, this is a kidnapping. We lost the primary.”

“He’s with his band.”

“And we don’t know where they are.”

“Where do I start?”

“The band’s MySpace page.”

“This sure is a lot of exposition.”

“He’s not a great writer. What do you expect?”