250 million Star Wars fans can't be wrong...

Geek Earth hung on the balance with the opening of Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith two weeks ago: would their Lord Lucas be able to deliver the final film into that promised land of sci-fi greatness? But if it were to be as lame as The Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones, would Lord Lucas' legacy forever be muddled as Jar Jar Bink's Idiot-Savant Caribbean talky-talky?

The answer, Geek Earth, is that Lord Lucas LIVES!!! If you want to read further, be forewarned that I speak of the movie in some detail...

On a Snout scale of one to five, I'm going to give Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith 4 Snouts. It had pure adventure, over the top villiany and star-crossed lovers. Sure, the dialogue was stilted and the plot predictable, but I still felt the agony as the Jedi knights were betrayed, one by one, killed far away from their home by anonymous clone troopers. Quite ignoble, don't you think, which made the tragedy even greater. And the younglings, poor little British kids consumed by the tormented, evil American Lord Vader. In a way, Lucas was saying that we still want to give it to those English... I think.

I found the final encounter between Vader and Obi-Wan silly, actually, as they surfed on lava. Shouldn't their feet have melted away from all the splashing and waves of lava juice? Still, I felt for Vader when the final stroke from Obi-Wan took away all of his living limbs, a terrible fate to befall even him, I thought. But then, like the ending to The Return of the King, his suffering had not quite ended. No! He had to burst into flames!!! But wait. Once entombed in a cyborg suit, he would learn the death of Padme and, so he thought, his child. Aargh! Then the Emperor had to ham it up with a cackle. So Vader's conversion to the Dark Side is complete...

My favorite character was Palpatine/Supreme Chancellor/Dark Lord of the Sith. He was the perfect combination of politician, manipulator, spy, and dictator. So swarmy. So seductive. Let's be honest. Given a choice, we all would have wanted a taste of that chocolatey Dark Side. Too bad Lucas had to permanently disfigure the Sith Lord. I think evil is best embodied on a face that looks charming and trusting...

To my sad displeasure, there were no strong female characters. Padme was reduced to a lost, pregnant child, unsure and weak, so unlike her earlier incarnations in Episodes I and II. That was Lucas' only failure, I thought. Padme should have at least taken a swing at Vader on volcano planet. Instead, she whimpers and dies...

Still, go see the movie. Lucas won't need the money, but you'll have a good time.

When profits slip, so does a banker's pants...

This is what banks will do to you when you overdraw from your checking account:

"Monmouth County authorities say a nude banker wearing a condom jumped out of the woods and tried to sexually assault an off-duty female police officer who was out for a jog.The woman grabbed a can of pepper spray and called police on her cell phone as she chased the man in Union Beach on Sunday. Authorities say the woman got the license plate number to a rental car, which authorities traced to John Kelly.The 39-year-old surrendered to police yesterday. Officials say the Jersey City resident is a vice president for Chase in New York.Kelly is charged with attempted sexual assault and lewdness." (May 27, 2005 - Union Beach, NJ - 1010 WINS)

Not content with higher fees, exorbitant credit card rates and three-day waiting periods for deposited checks to clear, bank executives are now encouraged to shed their clothes and go Tarzan on their suburban clientele. They wait until you exercise because they think you might be too tired to fight back (never mind the adrenaline rush already coursing through your blood in the middle of your 10K run). It adds a whole new meaning to "customer friendly banking."

Two daily hits to my blog: Or, this ain't no Revenge of the Sith

I hit my Site Meter. It's that rainbow colored rectangle on the bottom of the blog. It tells me that my audience is lower than my old GPA. Wow. That's pretty humbling. But it's my fault, really, because I haven't updated it often. I should actually do so weekly, but life has taken much of my energy. Where does it all go, you might ask, oh faithful reader? Here's yet another list...

1. I've been working on my resume. You see, it really is a full time job trying to update every single line on a two page resume. Everything must be perfect. No spelling errors. Grammar must be good. Dates are checked over and over. Responsibilities must be written simply and economically. Take out the ones that don't mean anything. Then eyeball the resume all over again hoping that every bulleted item has a period at the end.
2. I've been checking ads and submitting applications. So after the resume is complete, you create a cover letter. That's nearly as challenging as formatting the resume because in four paragraphs, you have to make yourself sound as interesting and gung-ho without being an ass or a wimp. It's surprisingly easy how one sounds like one or the other by the end of the second paragraph: "... As a so and so, I have experience dealing with this and that. I would be a valuable part of your team..."
3. I've been preparing for my interviews before going on them. I've been lucky in that I have my boss' blessing. She's the rare person who actually wants the best for me. If I had it my way, I'd stay forever, but life in non-profits can be tough... so I've been downloading position papers and information on the agencies that have scheduled to see me. Then I've been writing talking points and reviewing which parts of the resume that need explaining. I try not to memorize word for word what I need to say because then it comes off as inauthentic. I have key phrases that I build from: organized, time-management, supervised, nine years post graduate experience, liason... They're all good descriptions, don't you think?
4. Cooking, cleaning, doing laundry... all the household stuff that is required in a marriage and family. By the time the late evening news comes around, I try to relax and read. For the past few nights, it's been Raymond Chandler's "Trouble is my business." Who needs real life when I can be sprited away into the world of improbable crime and detective fiction.
5. Preparing to visit family out of state. So that means paying the bills, cleaning the dishes, making sure the house is in order before leaving. I can be so OCD, it drives my wife crazy sometimes.

Well, I'll try to see the last Star Wars movie this coming weekend. Everyone says it's great, except for my old friend Luis. I dread that he is right...

Dave Chappelle this, Lifetime Channel!

When the Lifetime Channel offered me a $1.37 for a three year deal to turn my blog into a fact-based drama of life on the murderous street of Toronto, I believed my career had finally turned around! With that $1.37, I had not only the validation but the security of knowing that my work justified the long days and nights of sitting in front of the computer screen, the cursor mocking me with its lone, blinking eye. I could now write whatever I wanted, no longer chained to pleasing my unforgiving audience of 2.3 lurkers a day. Damn you, I cried out with contract in hand, tears soaking my pale, cracked cheeks. Damn you...

When I woke up the next morning, I called my agent and said I couldn't handle the pressure anymore. My imagination was as bone dry as our foreign policy. All I could think of to share with the world was my daily routine. Really. You don't want to know what I do between the moment I step into the shower and the moment I wrap a towel around my waist. It's just enough for me to black out those humiliating eight minutes each morning.

My agent said he knew some people who knew some animals who might smell a good hut someplace out east. So it was that this morning, I found myself in Urga-lomna, Mongolia, tended to by a race of half men, half fur-coats. They stare into my eyes with the longing of either some distant wisdom that might be forced out from my heart or a good meal (for I am a somewhat meaty 153 pounds).

The wind is bitter. The horses dance over the unending dunes of sand and brown earth. The cleric of this particular nomadic tribe, a decent fellow with wrinkles and folds deep enough to hide my wallet and car keys, tells me to forget about the blog. It is a demon, he says, that cannot be conquered. For it changes shape, mocks you when you think you have cornered it. Reverts from a corporeal being into shadow and light when you try to break its neck with your hands. I dig deep into myself to find the kernel of truth that he speaks of. A minute later, his wife interrupts our lesson and tells him to stop it with the hasheesh. I knock him over with an elbow and climb out of the tent.

I have the $1.37 in my pocket. It is a heavy burden. Cash. Expectation. Washington is looking at my stubbled face. He weeps at my appearance. "Alan," he whispers, "toss it all into the wind. Let it go." I do as he says. The winds picks up the dollar and floats into the cleric's hand some three feet away. He stumbles into the local bar. When he reappears, there is a Johnny Walker in his hand. The coins, a quarter and some pennies, sink into the sand and are lost. Forever.

Damn you, Lifetime Channel, I cry! Damn you!