The Truth About Luke, Part 2
I just finished playing a game of Star Wars Miniatures with my mom. That's right, I said Star Wars Miniatures with my mom
Is this how far I've fallen?
This comes after a day where I pretty much did nothing but sit around playing Knights of the Old Republic until I went over to Wal Mart and looked at Star Wars Legos (press down on their heads and the lightsabers light up!). I've even been listening to the NPR Star Wars radio drama ever since MG3 decided he didn't want it burdening his move to the Hermitage.
Suffice to say, I'm back on the Star Wars train with a vengeance. It should really come as no surprise that I'm a pretty big Star Wars fan. I do, after all, work at a frigg'n comic book store, and unlike Shaka, I've seen the damn things. Heck, I even know about Grand Admiral Thrawn, Joruus C'baoth, and the Wild Karrde.
But like Simon Pegg in Spaced, my relationship with Sweet Lady Star Wars has cooled off in recent years, what with its creator doing everything he possibly could to destroy it and all. I mean, seriously, bro:
What the hell?
Still, I am a guy who owns George Lucas in Love on VHS, so it was inevitable that I'd come back. And it's taking everything I have to not make a "the circle is now complete" joke right there. But what brought this on?
Well, Clone Wars was pretty awesome, but I've always been a big fan of Genndy Tartakovsky. So it pretty much comes down to me catching the Episode III trailer a few weeks back, which means the blame can be squarely laid on the shoulders of Ewan McGregor.
Seriously, that guy is awesome. Stupid haircut in Phantom Menace aside, he's unquestionably the best thing about the prequels, and when he goes: "YOU WERE THE CHOSEN ONE!" I get frigg'n chills.
And yes, Mike. He's been added to the list.
So yeah. Ewan McGregor, it's your fault if I'm disappointed in Episode III. But even if it does, there's one thing you can't take away from me. And that's Kit Fisto. That guy's AWESOME!