Star Whore: How Feel Me?

A cup…a gun…
By Matt Springer
May 13, 2005

How feel me about the end of Star Wars as we know it?

Fine, I guess. Good. Wistful. Relieved. All those things.

Truth is, I don’t know what to feel, or how to feel it. There’s a vague sense of disconnection and unreality to embracing the idea that in a week, the final Star Wars film of all time will unspool on theater screens across the country and around the world.

Of course, part of that is because Star Wars isn’t ending. George Lucas’ announcement of two TV series coming down the pike has insured that we (and he) will be shackled to this technological terror he’s constructed for years to come.

To say I’m excited is an understatement; to say my heart is breaking is a lie, because it broke long ago for Star Wars, and it can’t break again. Fans like me who’ve been crushed by the prequels know exactly how I feel; this hasn’t been the easiest journey.

This is truly useless whining, but I’ll do it anyway: The first two prequels kinda HURT me. All that hype and excitement building up to each one, the ever-burning fire of hope in my belly that Lucas would get it right (perhaps justified before Episode I, but simply foolish and desperate on Episode II), the slow onset of disappointment after finally realizing the man just didn’t have that early greatness in him anymore…what an exhausting road it’s been.

All the while, I’ve somehow still considered myself to be a Star Wars “fan,” and there have been moments when I’ve honestly wondered why. I know I love the original trilogy, but I hate the prequels with a pretty fierce passion, which has earned me an uncomfortable notoriety amongst my nerd friends, who can’t understand why I’d want to buy shit and line up and read books and rewatch trailers over and over , all in the service of a fandom I don’t seem to really have.

I’ve told myself that being a Star Wars fan is like being a Democrat. Just because our candidates lately have sucked, it doesn’t mean one stops believing in the overall greatness of the party. And just because the prequels didn’t toast my bread, it doesn’t mean I stop loving the franchise.

I am mixed on the brink of Revenge of the Sith. I am excited as hell, for reasons I don’t quite understand. I have allowed that burning hope to set fire to my insides yet again. It has been fed steadily by encouraging reviews, which also happened to an extent on Attack of the Clones, although I don’t recall the mainstream press embracing any Star Wars film since Empire as much as they seem to be embracing Sith.

I guess at the end of the day, the impending release of Episode III leaves me unsure of what to say, yet feeling a desperate urge to say something. So I will, and I did and it’s done.

And I will pray the prayer of the wide-eyed geek child who still lives inside me, each night as I lay me down to sleep: Dear Nerd Lord, PLEASE DO NOT LET THIS FILM SUCK DONKEY BALLS.

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