Star Wars - What passes as a joke in space.

June 8th – How to cut down your FaceBook friends by half in one fell swoop.
If you type it into Google, what gets 708,000,000 results?

Nope, not Debbie Does Dallas (11,400,000)…or Jesus (it gets more results – 806,000,000 – but only just)…or Porn, that’s just stupid, of course it’s gonna get more results (1,520,000,000 to be precise) but only a monk would have trouble figuring that out.

So, back to the original.

What runs Jesus a close race and beats Debbie Does Dallas hand over fist…? That reads all wrong but you know what I meant.

I have to say, in all honesty, I never jumped on the franchise bandwagon that became Star Wars (I hear the snapping shut of laptops countrywide). It passed me by and I have to say, I'm not sorry; here’s just two reasons why.

Reason 1) the level of humour that surrounds those in the know about the minutiae of both character and plot (there’s a plot?) is insipid to the point of anti-panto. I offer you:

Q. Why is Han Solo a loner? 

A: Because he’s solo (why would you put the punch line answer in the question then expect to get a laugh?

Or:
Q. Why did the crazy Angrallian Toobir cross the nebula? 

A: To get to the other dementia (I don’t only not understand the punch-line, I don’t understand the question).

Or:
Q. Why did the Ewok fall out of the tree? 

A: Because he was dead… (Isn't the point of a joke to be funny?) 
I could go on but I’ll not as I feel the above death of comedy is sufficient slaughter for one session.

Reason 2) IMHO the attention span and social skills of avid devotee’s verges on the Cro-Magnon. How have I come to this seeming, sweeping understanding?

When I was Production Managing a show in a large city not unlike Swansea (I’d rather not divulge the name of the place in order to protect the innocent) I had to go see some council bods about various permissions to use various spaces for various rehearsals. After jumping through the usual hoops set up by job’s-worth’s’ in order for them to avoid even the appearance of actually doing something with impunity or  becoming responsible for making a decision, I was finally directed to an office that contained three men (I use that last word in its widest possible sense) in the company of my Stage Manager; if she’s reading this she’ll already have her head in her hands. We stood in front of them, these three Droogs, for around three or four minutes before they accepted that there was indeed someone else in the room besides them and that they’d better say something before we expired from lack of food, water or tolerance.

One raised its head and said, in a voice that held all the welcome and encouragement of a dead ferret;

“Yes, can I help?”

And we were immediately aware that helping us was the last thing on his mind.

I mentioned the name of the person we’d been sent to see and they, all three, exchanged glances before deciding that they would have to identify the named person as, with only three of them in the room it wouldn't be much of a game of ‘identify the tosser’. The person bearing the correct name was, indeed the person sitting at the desk in front of us and we should have clicked that he was the boss because there on his desk were a series of Star Wars figurines, five in all, which he constantly touched, fondled and moved around. He was in possession of three more figurines than his compatriots either side of him; there were obviously perks attached to his position. Suffice to say we came out of that office, the Stage Manager and I, after forty minutes complete with their one-syllable answers; no decision made, no offer of support and no future possibility of there being any…ever…no avenue to pursue in order to gain further insight or knowledge that brought making a decision any closer and a realisation that we'd been in the company of three people (sub-species) who had a level of personal contact that would have stiff competition from a wilted lettuce and a love affair with a film franchise that challenges the understanding of ‘a joke’. I reaffirm my earlier assessment:-

Q. Why should you never tell jokes on the Falcon? 

A: The ship might crack up.

Oh, there’s more where that came from.

So it was with some surprise I found something about Star Wars that actually made me laugh, not loudly, a sort of snicker, but still, for a dyed-in-the-wool miserable bastard like me it wasn't bad.

On this day in 2004 the band called Bad Religion released their 13th full-length album and it was called? The Empire Strikes First. Now that’s almost funny…huh? Geddit? No? Oh, OK, how about;

Q. Why do vornksrs stop slowly? 

A: They’re afraid of whiplash.

Or:

Q. Why did Yoda cross the road? 

A: Because the chickens forced him to.

Or: 

Q. What do Star Destroyers wear to parties? 

A: A bow TIE

Laugh? I almost cut my own throat.