Tag Archives: Yoda

Five reasons Luke Skywalker is a jerk.

Five ReasonsRemember Luke Skywalker, the hero of the original STAR WARS trilogy? He’s kind of a jerk; here’s five reasons why.

1. He drops everything to chase tale.

When backwater Luke wakes up R2’s messaging software, the holographic princess awoke something in Luke. We can chalk some of Luke’s behavior to being a Tatooine provincial, but not all.

One sight of the princess and he’s forgotten about cleaning droids. He wants the entire message, and only bedtime interrupts him. (Perhaps Luke has reason to rush for the privacy of his bedroom.) In the morning when R2 is missing, any responsible young man might have confessed his error, prompting Uncle Owen to dock Luke’s allowance to pay for a replacement. Not Luke. He risks not only himself, but his other droid in hot pursuit. Read More →

Five reasons “The Two Towers” is the worst Lord of the Rings film.

Five ReasonsCritics claim that the middle film of a trilogy is the most difficult. They’re wrong.

The opening has the advantage of introduction. More time is allotted to get to know the people, setting, rules. Caring about the characters is more critical than advancing the plot.

The ending has the advantage of drama: Everything hinges on individual moments.

The penultimate installment has its own advantages, though. New threads can be introduced that don’t require immediate resolution. The characters are established. The center of a trilogy is the only place you can get away with episodic cliffhangers (the kind television takes for granted).

That’s why The Empire Strikes Back is the strongest STAR WARS. There’s no time wasted on Luke’s background, Han’s motives or Leia’s personality. Obi-Wan’s stoicism sets up Yoda’s hilarity (which wouldn’t be funny if we’d met Yoda first). Throw-away lines from the first movie (“You think a princess and a guy like me…?”) become whole plots, because there’s time for development.

Events aren’t concluded. Heroes stumble from bad to worse ’til credits roll. It’s fantastic.

Despite the gooey fun at the trilogy’s center (like a tootsie pop), The Two Towers managed to repeatedly disappoint, though sandwiched between two of the greatest fantasy adaptations of all time. Read More →

The day Megan talked to the cats marginally more than usual.

Yoda with the Fleet

Our felines aren’t much  like pets. They’re more like miniature furry people who can’t speak English. They have their own language, which we understand.

Dog people might hear, “meow” and “brrrt” but we hear requests, complaints, observations. Yoda alone has taught me 463 variations of the word “meow” which mean different things.

  • “Meow” – Open this door immediately!
  • “Meow” – It’s dinner time!
  • “Meow” – There’s a glass door between me and that delicious bunny.
  • “Meow” – Pay attention to me.
  • “Meow” – My water bowl is dry.
  • “Meow” – My litter box is dirty.
  • “Meow” – Sorry you had a tough day at work. Let’s commiserate over tuna and beer.
  • “Meow” – I don’t understand impressionism. I think it’s just a cover for painters who can’t depict with clarity.
  • “Meow” – I agree, The Empire Strikes Back was the best Star Wars movie. It introduced my namesake!

Combined with different noises and body language, we have a thorough understanding of our cats. Miramax will likely option our Cat-to-English Dictionary for a movie quite soon.

Our cats, in turn, understand us. We tell them everything. Not just that it’s not dinner time, but why it’s not dinner time. We’re lazy and you’re annoying us, so shut up; then we’ll prep your food.

Yoda even argues with me:

“Yoda, get out of the kitchen.”
Mrow! No!
“Yoda, get out of the kitchen.”
Mrrr. I don’t want to.
(Warningly) “Yoda…”
Mrrrmmm. Dammit, fine.

With so much inter-species dialog, you might wonder how I could detect a marginal increase in person-to-feline communication, but I did. There’s a rhythm and flow to household noises, and you can sensitize yourself to variances in the pattern. Or you can do as I did, and make a lucky guess.

The other day, Megan offered the cats not only dialog, but entire soliloquies. Soliloquies, I add, marginally longer than those she typically delivers to our miniature compatriots. An increase of approximately 17%. What did it mean? What had happened to the cats recently? What had happened to Megan? A 17% variance in behavior is significant according to some studies I just made up.

Like any good scientist or statistician — of which I am neither — I started examining contributing variables. Recent activities, beverages, meals, work habits…

Work habits? Wait a tic. Monday I was at a focus group and didn’t get home until 11 PM. Tuesday we celebrated a co-worker’s recent degree; I got home around 6. Last week, my boss kept me late nearly every day working on a super secret project whose details I cannot yet reveal but I’m dying to. With dad working lot, “mom” and her fuzzy children bonded more than usual. The new habit bled over into times when I was actually home.

Like me, Megan is an introvert who needs lots of space. We’re a match made across the room from each other. It’s heartwarming to realize just how much she misses me when I’m gone.

Yoda, Rosie: Once you’ve learned my Windows password and read this, take good care of your mother. She deserves it.