Tag Archives: Star Wars

BEER and PRO-TOOLS: Obsessed Ep 21

Wil Wheaton loves beer! Mike Phirman loves Pro-Tools audio software! Molly Lewis plays the Obsessed theme live! A very special episode of Obsessed recorded live on a boat in the middle of the Caribbean sea for Jonathan Coulton’s JoCoCruiseCrazy! Find out the answer to the following questions and more: What is Wesley Crusher’s favorite beer? Could Mike Phirman kill a man with kindness? Why did Molly Lewis smash a pizza box with a ukulele? Plus, Wil and Mike make sex noises to advertise Joseph’s comedy album VERBING THE NOUN. (Also, if you’re a knitter, listen in the background to hear the clicking noises of the live audience’s crafting!)

AWOOGA! Obsessed is now a part of Feral Audio! Go to Feral now to listen to this episode and subscribe for new ones!

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SANTA CLAUS: Obsessed Ep 16

Mystical being, Santa Claus, is obsessed with fresh breath and shampoo. Santa also has a lot to say about elf cruelty, the Supreme Court, Godfather’s Pizza, and reindeer putting on plays. PLUS random audience volunteer, Madde Gibba, reveals her obsession with Animals in Clothes on the Internet. Enjoy!

AWOOGA! Obsessed is now a part of Feral Audio! Go to Feral now to listen to this episode and subscribe for new ones!

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Adult Santa Claus

I originally wrote this piece for the very awesome New Standards holiday show. Many thanks to John, Chan, and Steve.

I have a new holiday tradition. Right around Thanksgiving, I turn to my beautiful wife and say, “Honey, I hate Christmas.” She patiently listens as I go on the exact same rant that I do every year.

“I don’t want to hate Christmas. I used to love Christmas. I used to get a break from school. I used to look forward to opening presents. I normally got Star Wars action figures, but one year my mother hurt her back, got high on pain meds, and gave me three different individually wrapped flashlights.

I didn’t even care.

I just went to my room, turned off all the lights, and pretended the flashlight was a lightsaber. I danced around in the dark waving a flashlight like an idiot. That’s what Christmas used to be–a warm comforting light in the middle of the dark winter. It used to feel magical. Now it’s just more stuff I have to do.”

This year instead of just complaining to my wife, I’ve decided to make Christmas magical again. In order to do that, I’ve invented a new myth.

The myth of Adult Santa Claus.

I don’t mean Adult Santa Claus like a special holiday movie you would order in a hotel room.

No, Adult Santa is like your cool uncle who also happens to be a life coach. He has the magical ability to visit every stressed out adult in the world on one night. He doesn’t have a sleigh guided by reindeer and he doesn’t enter through a chimney. He drives a 1997 Ford Taurus with a missing muffler and he comes in the front door like a normal person.

Adult Santa has many names. In Germany he’s known as Dave Kringle. Some know him as Saint Chad, the patron saint of whatever, man. In Belgium, they just call him Low-Stress Pete.

Adult Santa doesn’t say, “Ho Ho Ho!” He says, “Ho Ho Ohhh—I’m tired. Whooo! My back is killing me. Ahhhhhhh! Son of a—!” And he just goes on like that for a while.

His face doesn’t appear on Coke cans, but you might see him on a package of Nicorette or a bottle of Xanax. Because Adult Santa is just here to help.

He logs onto your facebook account and deletes that horrible post you wrote about your mother-in-law while you were hiding in the bathroom during dinner. He finishes that stupid PowerPoint Presentation you have to give on December 27th. He leaves a big bottle of Trader Joe’s wine under your pillow. He knows Trader Joe’s wine isn’t fancy, but you like it, so who cares? Adult Santa doesn’t judge.

Maybe he just sits on the end of the bed and rubs your feet. It should be creepy that an old dude named Dave sneaks into your house and rubs your feet, but it’s not.

It’s magical.

He will even hang out with you. Adult Santa will stay up late and watch that episode of Downton Abbey you’ve had on the DVR for two weeks. He agrees with you that the best part of Project Runway is Tim Gunn. He’ll bring you an Xbox and play co-op Call of Duty all night. He is really good with a grenade launcher.

Adult Santa won’t force you to sing Christmas Carols. But if you want to, he’s got a couple of carols he likes to sing. He calls them Realistic Christmas Carols. His favorites include “Silent Night, Passive-Aggressive Night,” “I’m Beginning To Bitch A Lot About Christmas,” and “All I Want For Christmas Is Two F’ing Minutes To Myself.” Adult Santa likes to say that by title alone his favorite Christmas Carol is “Sweet Child O’ Mine” by Guns N’ Roses.

Unless you don’t like that kind of sarcasm, then Adult Santa just keeps it to himself. Because he’s not here to fight, he just wants you to be happy.

Adult Santa knows Christmas doesn’t actually suck.

It’s just really, really hard to be an adult.

So this year, I am going to recapture the magic of Christmas. On December 24th, I’m going to stay up late at night and wait for Adult Santa. I’ll set out some whiskey and a wedge of brie. I’ll sit in a dark room illuminated only by the glow of the Christmas tree. I’ll sip some of that whiskey as I listen for the low rumble of his rusted out Ford Taurus. I will feel warm and safe.

In that moment, I will get the true gift of Christmas. A gift that all adults deserve. Just a few precious minutes of peace on Earth.

Thank you and merry realistic Christmas to one and all.

This story is now available in audio format as part of my comedy album A VERY HOLIDAY THING. The album and the blog post were made possible by funding from Patreon. Thanks, patrons!

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MOLLY LEWIS and DOUBLECLICKS SMACKDOWN: Obsessed Ep 14

Molly Lewis and The Doubleclicks take a brief break from their Ladies of Ragnarok tour to compete in an obsessive smackdown! Who is the most obsessed? Molly with Star Tours? Angela with Portland City Planning? Aubrey with audio equipment? Or random audience volunteer (and Molly’s boyfriend) Ben with fine menswear? Plus, awkward questions about intimacy!

AWOOGA! Obsessed is now a part of Feral Audio! Go to Feral now to listen to this episode and subscribe for new ones!

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KATE BUSH and GODZILLA: Obsessed Ep 10

Recorded live at CONvergence 2012, Paul Cornell (writer for DC Comics, Doctor Who, and much more) sings the praises of Kate Bush! Bonnie Burton (Author, host of Geek DIY, Googly Eye fan, and much more) smashes everything with her love of Godzilla! Random audience volunteer, Amanda Nerud aka MsDemeanorMaven, body checks the mic on the topic of Roller Derby! Plus, a brand new OBSESSED theme by Molly Lewis!

AWOOGA! Obsessed is now a part of Feral Audio! Go to Feral now to listen to this episode and subscribe for new ones!

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STAR WARS: Obsessed Ep 7

Joseph tackles this huge obsession with help from the Three Bears of Star Wars knowledge: Actor/comedian Sam Landman (knows too much), actor Zoe Benston (knows too little), and RiffTrax writer/performer Bill Corbett (knows just the right amount.)

AWOOGA! Obsessed is now a part of Feral Audio! Go to Feral now to listen to this episode and subscribe for new ones!

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Batman and The Popular Arts

I saw a lot of odd and awesome things at the San Diego Comic-Con. My favorite was this:

Batman taking a walk.*

There were many people cosplaying Batman, but this guy was the best. He was a full-on, bad-ass, Christopher Nolan-films Batman with an iron jaw and cold blue eyes peering out of the darkness of his grim mask.

And he was walking down the sun-drenched marina boulevard.

The boulevard is behind the convention center. Not that many Comic-Con attendees are out there. They came to San Diego to buy exclusive My Little Pony toys and perhaps catch a glimpse of Joss Whedon eating a taco.** They did not come for the sun and ocean. So the boulevard is a mix of Comic-Con attendees and people who just, like, live in San Diego or something.

Almost everyone who passed the Dark Knight felt compelled to say out loud, “It’s Batman!” There are a few phrases in our culture we compulsively say out loud regardless of how obvious the statement might be:

“It’s hot.”

“It’s cold.”

“It’s Batman.”

Some tipsy dudes who were not with Comic-Con exchanged fist bumps with Batman. Still overcome with the need to share the obvious, one dude said, “Dude, we just fist-bumped Batman!”

A small child approached Batman. His father bent down, his Comic-Con badge proudly displayed, and said, “If you’re going to take a picture with Batman you better put a smile on your face.”

And he did.

This is my second year going to Comic-Con. Before I went the first time people warned me about it like I was headed to a war zone. Bring your own food! Carry an oxygen tank! Tape your wallet to your flesh so you can feel it being ripped off of your body! Wrap your soul in protective armor to defend from the giant corporate monster that is Comic-Con!

I recognize a lot of the snark is accurate. It is crowded, expensive, corporate, and there’s nothing quite as depressingly ironic as watching a dude dressed as Hawkeye entirely miss the urinal then leave the bathroom without washing his hands.

But I like it.

Both years I’ve attended the convention, the streets of downtown San Diego have been covered with signs proclaiming that Comic-Con is “Celebrating the Popular Arts.”

The first year, I thought this was smooth marketing speak to say, “Yes, it started out as a comic book convention, but now there are panels with LL Cool J about NCIS: Los Angeles. They’re both popular. Just let it be.”

This year, when I saw the signs saying “Celebrating the Popular Arts” I was elated by the word “popular.”

I started my career as a writer and a comedian writing comedy sketches and plays within the confines of the world of traditional theater.

There are many things I love about traditional theater.

The attitude toward the concept of popularity is not one of them. Theater tends to retain a disgust with the “popular” back from the days when almost everything on television was a crappy, repetitive sitcom. Popularity often brings with it the implied suggestion that you are dumbing your art down to the lowest common denominator to get butts in the seats. Of course, all theater productions want to get butts in the seats. So, particularly in small to mid-size theater, the dangerous word “popular” gets translated into “important,” “relevant,” or “Shakespeare.”

So when I saw the word “popular” proudly plastered all over the town, I started thinking about what it actually meant to Comic-Con–both my personal experience of the event and the event itself.

Over the last few years, I’ve been branching out to do a hybrid of storytelling and stand-up comedy around the country. I’ve been writing spec scripts for TV shows and movies and web series. I wrote a book about the wide world of geekdom. It’s the work that has brought me to Comic-Con to frolic in the sun with Stormtroopers of all shapes and sizes.

This year, I performed at the comedy and music geekstravaganza, w00tstock starring Paul and Storm, Wil Wheaton, and Adam Savage. The audience for this show is a big pack of self proclaimed nerds. I did one piece aimed at the target demographic about Star Wars told as a collection of tweets. I’ve also noticed that geeks don’t need every piece of entertainment to be geeky. So I took a risk and performed a story about a time I did some commercials with a bear.

Here’s the story. Here’s the commercial. It went well.

The vibe in the room for w00tstock is incredibly accepting. It’s an audience that is happy to celebrate new people and new ideas. For example, the awesome Bonnie Burton and Anne Wheaton did a presentation about putting googly eyes on things.

Even within the traditional world of geek, things are changing. I went to exactly two Comic-Con panels. One was Geek Girl Fashion. The other was Old White Guy With Strong Opinions About Star Trek. Again, there’s quite a spectrum.

I had meetings about writing for two specific properties. One is based on a comic book about superheroes. One is based on a web comic about a charming dude who likes to have fun and makes the occasional Lord of the Rings reference.

The artists I’m meeting with believe in their art and want it to be good. The business people want the art to be good so it will be popular so they can make money. They are not in the least bit subtle about this and it’s very refreshing from my perspective.

Trying to see it from a bigger perspective, Comic-Con is a huge mash-up of artistic interests, corporate interests, cosplayers, fans, famous people, fans trying to see famous people eat tacos, and people trying to make it in any of the many industries represented at the Con.

It’s all tied together by the idea of popularity. Everyone at Comic-Con is interested in what people like. This brings us back to Batman.

Batman walks down the street and everyone wants to take his picture, shout his name, and bump his fist. They know him. They know his story. He is a part of their lives. Geeks, drunks, kids, grandmothers, even birds seemed to screech like they recognized him. All of his incarnations, all of his stories have had a profound impact on a lot of people for a long time.

Batman is popular.

To put it another way, this dark brooding man who dresses up like a bat to fight crime has made a lot of people happy.

What the hell is wrong with that?

Good job, Batman, good job.

 

*My second favorite costume was Lazy Obi-Wan Kenobi. He had a lightsaber, a Jedi robe, blue jeans, and some ketchup stains.

**I did not see Joss Whedon eating a taco. I did see Matt Smith drinking beer. At last call, someone bought him another beer. He only took one sip of the beer and put it down. After he left, I was very tempted to go drink the rest of The Doctor’s beer. I am not proud.

 

 

 

 

 

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MURDER CRUISE 2012

On February 19th, 2012, a boat will leave Fort Lauderdale and sail out into the Caribbean Sea carrying with it the attendees of MURDER CRUISE 2012.

There are several inaccuracies in that sentence, so I will preemptively push my glasses up and correct myself.

Technically, it’s not a boat. It’s a ship. But come on, boat sounds more romantic. Also, it doesn’t sail. It moves under some other power than blowing. Nuclear reactors? Coal shoveling? Perhaps a flux-capacitor? I think it might be a combination of turbines and will power. It’s unknowable without looking it up on wikipedia.

And, no, it’s not actually called MURDER CRUISE 2012. That was a joke started by Paul F. Tompkins on the twitters. It’s actually called JoCoCruiseCrazy II. It’s a big floating geek concert/comedy festival hosted by Jonathan Coulton.

If you’re not sure who Jonathan Coulton is, it’s possible this is the first page you’ve looked at on the internets since 2003. All you really need to know is this: Jonathan Coulton is a nice man who sings songs and makes money doing it. After singing songs and making money on land for a while, he looked around and said, “What if I sang songs and made money in the middle of the Caribbean Sea?” And he did and it worked out, so now he’s doing it again.

The cruise is packed with talented entertainers and I’m honored to be doing a performance on this will-and-turbine-powered geek boat.

Right here and right now, I’m going to make seven predictions about what will happen on JoCoMurderCrazyCruise II and we’ll see how accurate they are.

PREDICTION NUMBER ONE:

There will be a MURDER. Not a sad real life murder involving consequences and human feelings, but a light, festive, Agatha Christie murder where some jackass no one likes gets drowned in a chocolate fountain when the lights go out on the Lido Deck and a bunch of colorful suspects with easy-to-remember names happen to be in the same room.

PREDICTION NUMBER TWO:

We will not sink. Though we will be attacked by a Kraken.

The Kraken will be easily defeated. A Kraken is basically a bully who lives in the sea. We will confront the Kraken about what is missing in his life that he has to attack a boat. He’ll say, “It’s not a boat, it’s a ship.” And we’ll say, “Don’t be pedantic, Kraken.” And we’ll make some quick and funny “It Gets Better, Kraken” parody videos and he’ll go away.

PREDICTION NUMBER THREE:

There is a possibility the owners of the cruise line will charge me extra if I look at the sea too often.

PREDICTION NUMBER FOUR:

I will probably get full-on old man cranky about the use of the word “squee.”

There will be a lot of excitement on the boat and people will want a short, emphatic word to express that emotion. I’m all for that. The emotion, the expression. Just not the word choice.

When I hear the word “squee,” I picture a panel from a Star Wars comic book in which R2-D2 is farting. Big, block letters shooting from the little astromech droid’s backside.

So while I might enjoy the comedy of John Hodgman or the music of Paul and Storm or the stories of Wil Wheaton or the reasonably priced rum drinks at a pirate ship bar on a small island in the Bahamas, I can’t squee.

For me, it’s a matter of respect. I can’t bring myself to say, “I’m enjoying John Roderick’s song. I think I’ll use my mouth to fart like a robot.”

Perhaps this opinion will lead me to be the man that is drowned in the chocolate fountain.

PREDICTION NUMBER FIVE:

I will foolishly attempt to define geek culture to an old woman from Arkansas.

The people on the cruise who are there for Jonathan Coulton and friends call themselves Sea Monkeys. Sea Monkeys are a fun, friendly, and inviting group of people.

There will be many people on the boat who are not Sea Monkeys. They will be confused and alarmed by all the excited people running around singing songs and saying “squee.”

They won’t even know that “squee” sounds like you’re imitating a Star Wars robot farting in a comic book. They think comic books still cost a dime and mostly feature Superman beating up nazis.

At least one of these people will gaze at me across the gaping cultural chasm and say, “Hey, you want to leap across the gorge and explain this to me?”

And I will try. And I will fail.

I will say words like “twitter” and “ukulele” and “bonhomie” and phrases like “no, we don’t all wear glasses, some of us have contacts” and “no, nerd isn’t really a negative term as we’ve made an effort to culturally appropriate the word and celebrate its positive aspects.”

And the perfectly nice woman from across the chasm will say things like “what?” and “huh?” and “so you’re all just getting together to sing songs about the Star Tracks?”

And I’ll use the word “filk” and she’ll think I’m swearing at her.

And I will go drown myself in the chocolate fountain.

PREDICTION NUMBER SIX

Even though my name is Scrimshaw, I will fail to hunt and kill a whale, then carve a picture into its bones. I will drown my sorrows in whiskey and this will make my ancestors proud.

PREDICTION NUMBER SEVEN

The cruise will be awesome. I will grossly overuse the word “awesome” and it will make me seem like a big hypocrite about the farting robot word.

After the cruise, I’ll do my best to let you know exactly how inaccurate my predictions were. Until then, I’m off to pack some shorts that I will not wear for fear of blinding my fellow Sea Monkeys with the pale white glow sticks that are my legs.

Cheers!

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THE BEST (PROBABLY) FAKE STUFF OF 2011

I wanted to surprise people with my best of list so I decided to applaud stuff that is not real. At least, I assume this stuff is not real. Anything is possible, because the internet.

BEST BACON THING

The Bacon Bowl Hat.

It’s just like the old school beer hat but with bacon. You put this bowl hat on your head, then put a bunch of chopped up bacon bits in the bowl, then suck them through the attached straw until your heart hurts. Yes, it’s dangerous to suck chunks of bacon through straws, but really you should only wear The Bacon Bowl Hat at parties. And at any party where The Bacon Bowl Hat is welcome there will be at least one jackass who thinks he knows the Heimlich Maneuver.

BEST SEXUALLY EXPLICIT POP SONG

Errybody Be Tired (From F*ckin’)

It’s a wonder it took someone this long to come up with a good post party anthem, but singer/songwriter LaJohnson really knocked this one out of the park. And his partner, MC Proper, did an amazing job with the family friendly radio edit Errybody Be Tired (Of Auto Tunin’).  All the power of the original in half the time.

BEST NEW TV SHOW

Going Postal.

In this riveting murder/post office procedural, brilliant but misanthropic Post Officer, Kenny Hammer, discovers a body part in the mail. This leads him to team up with sexy but smart FBI agent, Amber Bradley, who is also a world champion kickboxer. After they solve that first case in record time, the government assigns the unlikely couple to work together on ALL Post Office related murders. Tensions rise as Hammer and Bradley begin to flirt, investigate the decades old unsolved postal related murder of Bradley’s favorite uncle, and break all the rules by going out of their jurisdiction to investigate a Fed Ex related serial killer. A gripping show with plots ripped straight out of the headlines and not a bad advertisement for the endangered USPS.

BEST SNL SKETCH

Ren Fest Talkie Guy.

He’s at his office job, dressed normally, but he’s still yelling really loud like he was doing his shtick out at the Renaissance Festival. It is hilarious. I could go on and on about this bit for twenty minutes and I still couldn’t go on about it for as long as the sketch lasted.

BEST NEGATIVE WORD CO-OPTED TO MEAN SOMETHING POSITIVE

Used.

As in “that shit is used!” If something’s really sick or tight you can go the extra mile and say, “that shit is gently used.”

BEST POLITICAL SEX SCANDAL

Senator Bob Sanderson accidentally masturbating during the Republican debate on PBS.

This was a groundbreaking twist on the inevitable revelation of inappropriate sexual conduct and the inspiration for the most politically damaging animated gif ever. While the strange display did give him a brief jump in the polls, the revelation of the underlying psychological condition ultimately tanked his candidacy. One prominent political analyst said, “America is looking for a team player.” Personally, I saw the candidate Republicans claim they want: a no-nonsense guy who takes what he wants.

BEST MYERS-BRIGGS TYPE

INFJ

BEST NEW GOOGLE PRODUCT

GoogleYourMom.

This innovative program scans your e-mails, g-chats,  Google+ status updates, etc. for trigger words or phrases like stress, alcohol, chocolate, in-laws, and CGI additions to original Star Wars trilogy. When a danger level is detected, GoogleYourMom checks in with you to make sure you’re okay and that you’re not fucking up your life. Messages include–“Are you hungry? Should we order a pizza?”, “Do you feel safe? Should we call a cab?”, “Do you want me to look on ebay for the unaltered 2006 DVDs?” Under particularly harsh circumstances you will get this message: “I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed.” Having received that message more than once, let me tell you, it is effective. When something that exists on the internet is disappointed in you, that is a wake up call.

BEST VIRAL VIDEO

British Man Alarmed By Cat.

“Oh, bugger me, a pussy!” will be in our cultural lexicon for some time to come.

BEST ZOMBIE FILM

Zombie of the Zombies.

In this brilliant meta mash-up, a group of attractive young twentysomethings are infected with a mysterious zombie plague while locked in a movie theater watching a marathon of zombie movies. The massive variety of types of zombies, I mean, like, there’s both fast and slow, makes this film totally used.

BEST OFFENSIVE MEME

The AIDS Dolphin.

Is AIDS Dolphin tasteless? Oh my, yes. Is there a possibility that the omnipresence of this promiscuous marine mammal is helping to raise awareness of a horrible disease? You bet.

BEST NEW SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORM

KeepIt2Yourself.com.

This exciting new site allows you to post all the angry, bitter, ugly things you don’t want to share on all your public accounts. KeepIt2Yourself.com features an intricate connection system in which all friendship requests are auto blocked giving you the satisfaction of saying no without all the social risk. Warning: This one is a real time suck. Almost more than TymeSuckr.com.

BEST NEW FAST FOOD PRODUCT

The Salad Burger.

The Jiffy Burger franchise’s game changing idea of constructing an entire heart healthy salad (with lettuce, ham, cheese, jerk chicken, and Low Fat BBQ Chipotle Honey Mustard Dressing) then serving it between two massive quarter pound Angus Beef Burgers on a Butter Injected Bun was only missing one thing: bacon. Luckily, the company recognized this embarrassing gaffe, called a press conference, made a public apology, and immediately released The Salad Burger 2.0: Bacon Harder.

BEST META JOKE IN A BEST OF LIST

This one.

And that’s 2011! I look forward to writing my Best of 2012 which should include only one item: Best Apocalypse.

If you feel I missed any really, really great things that didn’t happen in 2011, feel free to add yours to the comments section.

Happy New Year and all the best (real or fake) in 2012!

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A Death Star To Guide Me

The following is the letter I should have sent to Santa Claus when I was a young boy.

Dear Mr. Claus,

My name is Joseph Aaron Scrimshaw. The adults in my family call me Joey. I hate that. I tell them my name is Joseph. They laugh and call me cute. I tell them their reaction is condescending and pejorative. At this point, most adults leave the room.

Their loss.

But back to subject matter that is more germane to this missive. In regards to my Christmas present this year–it is my deepest desire to be the first child on my block to own a Death Star Space Station play set inspired by the major motion picture event, Star Wars.

Now, Santa, I realize you are probably not a fan of this recently released sci fi/fantasy epic since you are of the older generation and probably prefer more adult fare such as Annie Hall, ABBA:The Movie, or Exorcist II:The Heretic.

Suffice it to say, like yourself, Star Wars is rooted in ancient mythologies. Its timeless narrative allows young people to vicariously live a life of noble heroism through the main character, Luke Skywalker.

The film reminds us that we all have exciting destinies. As soon as a fascist regime brutally murders our parents or guardians, oh, the adventures we will have!

At the end of the film (after his second parental figure, Obi Wan Kenobi, has also been murdered) Luke Skywalker deals a terrible blow to the Galactic Empire by destroying the aforementioned space station, The Death Star.

The film’s phenomenal box office success has generated an unprecedented wave of merchandise. There are Star Wars glasses, posters, cereals, pillow cases, ornaments, etc. In Germany, you can even get Star Wars toilet paper.

Wiping your ass with an image of C-3PO seems like an odd way to express your interest in the film. But then, it’s Germany. I don’t need to tell Kris Kringle how weird the Germans can be.

(As a side note: I am so completely surrounded by the oeuvre of Star Wars, I often wonder if it will warp my mind and lead me to an adult life in which I obsessively quote the film and pretend any long cylindrical item I see is a lightsaber. So it goes.)

The most popular tie-in product is the Kenner toy company’s line of action figures. Action figures are like dolls that don’t threaten your masculinity. As much. The Death Star is a play set for these action figures. Sort of like Barbie’s Mansion, but evil.

And speaking of evil, I realize the irony of celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ by receiving something called The Death Star. I could argue that there is a STAR connection to the story of Jesus’ birth, but I think we both know I would be equivocating.

I ask you to judge the Death Star not by the blatantly evil name (in fact, one wonders how the Empire got this name past the steering committee. Perhaps The Force was used?) or the rather inflated suggested retail price of $49.95, but rather judge it by the joy it would bring to me–young Joseph Aaron Scrimshaw. An intelligent, sensitive young man trapped in the barren wastes of the frozen tundra that is Northern Minnesota.

(Another side note: Northern Minnesota is much like the North Pole if most of the elves were alcoholics and Mrs. Claus had never heard of contraceptive devices. That is to say: it is lacking in magic.)

Rest assured, Santa, that I have exhausted every other possibility for acquiring the Death Star. I have asked my 26-year-old hippie parents to buy it for me. They answered a firm “no,” shaking their needlessly long hippie hair.

Even both of my Grandmothers put together to form a sort of financial Mecha-Grandmother could not afford the Death Star. I find this hard to believe as I have personally witnessed my maternal Grandmother smoke at least $60 worth of Virginia Slims cigarettes in one sitting.

And so, Santa, as holographic Princess Leia said to Obi-Wan Kenobi, you are my only hope. I risk no hyperbole when I say my entire world view for the rest of my life hangs in the balance.

I realize the Death Star is merely a collection of cheap plastic (and orange foam used to clumsily symbolize the garbage in the trash compactor), however, what magic has been fused into the plastic? Is it really an overly priced commercial tie-in? Or is it like a star itself? Both a muse to sentimental poets and a very real giver of light, warmth, and life?

If I receive the Death Star, I will be justified in my current belief that the world is a bright and happy place in which one can always make one’s dream a reality.

OR these fragile beliefs could be ruthlessly shattered by YOU. And I will be sentenced to a long and hollow life devoid of joy, compassion, and love. Suddenly, $49.95 doesn’t sound that expensive, does it?

Yours with much affection,

Joseph Aaron Scrimshaw

 

P.S. I must warn you in advance, I will not be able to leave out any cookies for you. As I mentioned earlier, my mother is a hippie, so I hope you will enjoy her seasonal collection of dried fruits and unsalted nuts.

Merry Christmas and May the Force Be with You.

A version of this story is also available in my book COMEDY OF DOOM.
Thanks for reading.

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