Warning: This post contains spoilers for Star Wars: The Last Jedi. When I saw The Last Jedi on Sunday and General Hux appeared on screen, I pumped my fist without shame. Rian Johnson, in one of the only good moves he made in an otherwise atrocious entry in the Star Wars canon, wisely led off with a …
The debriefing was as vicious as you’d expect it to be, the Navy commander methodic in his dissection of one of the greatest failures in military history. The massive loss of life and strategic capabilities were inevitable once the officers of history’s greatest military force allowed large sections of the region to “develop into a safe haven” for lawlessness and terrorism, “the perfect environment to allow a rebellion to grow.”
A long time ago in a movie studio far, far away, a man named George Lucas assembled a giant cake called Star Wars—a rickety thing, looking as though at any moment its three tiers would collapse upon themselves. Tasty, though: You had to give him that. And maybe sturdier than it originally looked, since the foundation survived, more or less intact, Lucas’s attempts to stack three more layers on top, 20 years later.
While the Star Wars movies were making their long, $30 billion run at the top of popular American entertainment, a man named Cass Sunstein was off at the University of Chicago and Harvard, teaching and gathering wisdom in a kind of law professor’s version of Yoda in the distant Dagobah system.
I find it totally fascinating how … loud people get when you make the perfectly reasonable point that Rey, an impossibly competent character in what amounts to a big-budget fan film, is a total Mary Sue (that is, she’s an audience insert into a piece of fan fiction who is impossibly competent and wins the heart of main characters from the show or movie you’re fan-ficcing).
Seriously, there are spoilers below. If you haven’t seen Star Wars: The Force Awakens yet you should probably just stop reading now and go to a movie theater. Everyone else saw it this weekend, why didn’t you?