Jabba the Hutt sits on my desk, his dais now a container for my loose change. We walk into the theater, which has an equal number of twentysomethings and eight year-olds. I wonder what the eight year-olds are thinking. Now it's 1999. I'm twenty-five, and Episode I is coming out any day now.
Someone snuck a video camera into a theater and put it online.
We watch it over and over. Maybe it's a deep seated need for myths in our time. Maybe it's a simple need for spectacle. Maybe it's grand opera with lightsabers or just Flash Gordon with better effects. I don't know.