The Rebel Fleet/End Title

The Rebel Fleet/End Title

Aug 15

Weird morning today–found a live roach in our bedroom, some stupid accident on the interstate sent hordes of traffic onto the tiny backwoods road that is my main conduit to the magycale cityee known as Jamlando, the coffee didn’t really pick me up.

Made me melancholy. So as I often do, I turned to music to regulate my mood, and the goddamned shuffle ended up pulling in some pretty dour stuff, including the big end credits suite from The Empire Strikes Back.

And it hit me–that fucking movie has been fucking with my mood for years. Every time I think of it, it makes me sad–Han’s in carbonite, Leia’s missing her man, Luke’s got a robotic arm and a half-robotic daddy. Their only hope is a scoundrel who just betrayed them and is going off to find Han, in Han’s ship, with Han’s buddy, WEARING HAN’S OLD CLOTHES. Creepy.

Star Wars IS who I am, more or less. Geek tropes come and go but those damned movies keep dragging me back in. It’s an essential component of my DNA…and MAN, is Empire a melancholy movie.

It’s like Nick Hornby wrote in High Fidelity, only a little different: Which came first, the movie or the misery? Was there always a Han in carbonite lurking around my mood and the movie just reinforced it, or did this fucking flick shove this wistful bittersweetness into my brain?

This, my friends, is why I need therapy.