George Lucas is a big ol' whore.
He living, breathing proof of the maxim that money and power gravitate to the wrong sort.
Case in point, the Star Wars Shop.
See, it's not enough that Mr. Lucas has spent the last few years defecating all over my childhood memories, working ever so hard to bring his original "vision" to the screen and thereby prove beyond doubt that the original movie was a complete, sublime accident.
One of those accidents demonstrated to Mr. Lucas (the big, filthy whore) and the rest of the world the unlimited potential of merchandizing.
Thus, we wind up with abominations such as the Darth Vader lawn sprinkler. Because what we all need to see is the most badass villain in the galaxy who positively glows with dark menace and who liquefies your bowels with his basso profundo voice, we need to see this guy spinning on your lawn, spraying water like a Cal fratboy pissing out a keg.
This is wrong on so many levels, but I'm sure there are enough fans lacking any sense of taste (or any sense, period) who will plonk down there loot for the damned thing.
And then there's the mind-bending little package of perversion that Harlock showed me today: the Slave Leia Pet Costume.
This is beyond wrong. "The family pet can now be one of your favorite Star Wars characters! The Slave Leia pet costume includes headpiece and jumpsuit with attached arms."
What does it say about a person when they doll up their pet in Leia's sexiest, most revealing costume, the revealing, oddly stiff bikini that left an entire generation of peri-pubescent boys oddly stiff?
"Pet costumes recommended for dogs only." Oh, because cats are more likely to suffer major trauma from ardent, bestiality/Star Wars freakos?
Why not just tag an "or sheep" to the end of the recommendation?
Mr. Lucas knows no bounds. He makes a show of hating the Christmas Special, but I suspect it's only because he hasn't figured a way to make cash from Bea Arthur's singing.
All this led me to suggest that Mr. Lucas should market a line of Star-Wars-themed intimate toys. Darth Vader's helmet has always suggested the lines of a thrusting penis tip. I was thinking of merely a dildo. Harlock's wife suggested a vibrator. I countered with Darth Vader's rumbling voice as the source of any vibrations. My wife chimed in with the suggestion of a vibrator in the shape of a tauntaun, with its curly ram horns. I couldn't help myself: "I thought they smelled bad on the outside."
Heaven help our kids.
And gosh darn that Mr. Lucas.
Pakeha