Cthulhu’s Corner: Those Star Wars Movies

I usually try to avoid the mainstream American media, especially when it comes to cinema.  Nothing really captures the impact that the medium should have like the French or the Finns.  The Seventh Seal was the last really good movie made that you might have heard of.  I could name a lot of others for you that are worth seeing, but you can’t really find them if you don’t already know about them.  And don’t bother with whatever Nylarathotep tries to sell you on; he dabbled in home movies and he thinks he’s some kind of auteur.

I did finally get dragged into seeing the Star Wars movies this weekend.  Some acquintances of mine had decided it would be fun to go see them and rip on them.  You know, ironically.  They wanted to make fun of how badly George Lucas had ripped off his betters like Akira Toriyama and his Seven Samurai movies.  It took some cajoling but I did finally agree to go with them and sit through the original three movies in a local theater that used to be an artisinal toast shop that used to be a community outreach center.  I really regretted taking so much time away from working on Dreams of R’Lyeh but I did feel like it was time to immerse myself in the muck that the American bourgeoisie  consumes so readily.

I… was not pleased.  Star Wars purports to be the story of a vast galactic conflict that occured in the distant past and across some great expanse of the void.  I know from long times ago and galaxies far away.  They are not filled with feathered-hair humanoids and tales of love and redemption.  I could give you tales of real wars among the stars; of supernovas and the birth of vast entities and the death of the empires of the Great Old Ones.  I have myself filled the great void betwixt stellar furnaces with my own spawn and seen them rage against the incomprehensible forces of things too distant and too other for your human minds to comprehend.

Star Wars had none of this.  It was just more humans and humanoids fighting each other.  I can find plenty of that here on this ball of rock.  Nobody in any of the Star Wars movies ever seemed to understand that everything they did was as meaningless as the actions of an ant crawling beneath one of your human boots.  I could not relate to these people at all.  At every corner I wondered why they had not just given themselves up to the empty, uncaring void to be devoured by the Things that crept behind the illusion of reality they had painted for themselves.  What use could levitating small objects or shooting sparks from your hands do against the Crawling Chaos or the whims of the blind idiot god outside time and space and understanding do?  Nobody was ever able to explain to me why these humans hadn’t looked out into their galaxy, seen it filled with the terrors of beings beyond their comprehension and then either gone insane or killed themselves.

I can suspend a lot of disbelief, but not that much.

Also, isn’t it weird that Luke and Leia made out in all three movies?  I mean by the third one hadn’t Lucas figured out they were siblings?  Kind of messed up if you ask me.

I did like the Quarren guy.  Very handsome.


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