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Star Wars is dead, long live Star Wars.

I dreamed I was angsting over whether I was going to see the new Star Wars movie or not. It was being built up to a big thing in the dream. Finally, when Sandstrom showed up, I burst out, "I don't care about these people anymore!", which is the most deadly phrase that the fans of anything can say.

Dream-Sandstrom grinned and said that he was going to watch the last movie -- he was going to use it and then get out of there. It wasn't the good stuff but he didn't care -- and this is the last one.

Lucas is our King.
He cannot write a single thing.
He only cares about the bling.
Lucas is our King.

I guess I care what happens to Obi-Wan Kenobi, but I know he turns out OK. So does R2. So does Darth Vader. (I care about Darth Vader, but not about whinypants.) So I already know what eventually happens to these people. I don't care what happens in Episode 3. Star Wars is dead.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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