Wednesday, January 06, 2016
Old stars, new war
So it seems they’ve made a new Star Wars film called The Force Awakens. I never knew it had fallen asleep, but I suppose that’s what happens when the galaxy is at peace and there are no hostile spaceships to zap with a ray gun. The manager of the safari camp told me not to make jokes about Star Wars lest I offend any tourists who are fans of the never-ending space saga:
“They are more common that you might think,” he explained. “We once had a guest who called himself Jedi One Kenobi”.
“A name to scare the pants off any baboon who might be thinking of defecting to the Empire,” I remarked.
In truth, I wasn’t a great fan of the original movie. Han Solo was just a clichéd tough-nut adventurer who thought dames were a pain in the ass until Princess Leia penetrated the gooey substance inside his armour-plated shell. One would have expected better versions of the masculine hero to exist in the age of the spaceman. Chewbacca was a stupid braying teddy bear and Darth Vader clearly had some kind of throat infection. The only good thing was the light sabre, and I was surprised that no one got prodded in the posterior by one of those handy weapons. Wouldn’t it have been the obvious practical joke to play among the Jedi fraternity?
Although Carrie Fisher reprises her role as the princess in the new film, the female lead is played by 23-year-old Daisy Ridley, to whom Ms Fisher offered various pearls of motherly wisdom during the shoot:
“I told her not to go through the crew like wildfire,” she revealed on British TV. "When I was first in it, I never wanted anyone to have the anecdote, 'I slept with Princess Leia.'”
A wise precaution, but why would a leading actress fool around with lowly members of the production crew? Wouldn’t it be more tempting to have an affair with the leading man? Perhaps this opportunity never presented itself to Ms Fisher because of the unattractive hairstyle she had to adopt in the first movie. Like most women, she looks far more alluring with her hair down, and you couldn’t blame Harrison Ford for being picky with all the hoochies on set, ready to drop their knickers for him at the wink of an eye.
A fine example of what a good hairdo can do for a woman is seen in the example of Diane Rodriguez, Ecuador’s leading transgendered female, who is shown below with her transgendered husband. Could you honestly say who was who without the essential clue of their hairstyles? Ms Rodrigues recently announced that her husband was pregnant with her child, which could result in the first human baby to be breastfed by its daddy. From what I can see, mummy’s breasts look more appetising even though they contain no milk. Let’s hope this paradox doesn’t cause baby to bark up the wrong nipple.
Labels: breast-feeding, Carrie Fisher, Harrison Ford, Star Wars, tranny
Friday, January 16, 2009
Family unlikeness
There was an open-air screening of the Star Wars trilogy at this year’s simian convention. After watching The Empire Strikes Back a chimpanzee approached me with a puzzled look on his face.
“If Luke Skywalker was really Darth Vader’s son, why wasn’t he called Luke Vader?” he asked.
“You silly nitwit!” I exclaimed. “Lord Vader obviously wasn’t the type to marry a woman and play happy families. He must have had a brief but torrid affair with Luke’s mother in some remote outpost lacking a drug store.”
“I still don’t buy it,” replied the chimp. “How come they looked so different if they were father and son?”
He had a point. The family resemblance was zero – indeed they hardly seemed to belong to the same species. Mr Vader’s peculiar costume did admittedly obscure his features, but what about his deep throaty voice? A man who spoke like that shouldn’t have sired a squeaky little whelp like Skywalker.
“You have to allow some creative licence in these movies,” I said to the chimp. “In any case, we don’t really know what Darth Vader looked like as a young man. Humans change a lot in appearance as they age.”
The chimpanzee pursed his lips and trotted off while I pondered the problem of detecting a family likeness in humans.
Back in my circus days, a theatre producer told me about a stage version of Star Wars he was planning.
“I’m so thrilled about it!” he enthused. “I’ve hired Bill Solly, who wrote the songs for Boy Meets Boy. He’s already composed a fabulous duet for Han Solo and Luke Skywalker that brought a tear to my eye! It’s called The Space Between Us.”
“I don’t see how you’ll manage the special effects,” I said. “What about the sword fights with those luminous blades that suddenly poke out of the hilt?”
“I’ve thought of an ingenious substitute!” he declared. “The actors in those scenes will have a florescent cucumber hidden up their sleeve. A jerk of the wrist and hey presto, it will pop out into their hand!”
“You’d better remind the cast that biting an opponent’s cucumber is not a legitimate form of self defence,” I remarked.
He shrieked and clapped his hands before flouncing off. When he later offered me the part of Chewbacca (the braying overgrown Teddy Bear) I told him where he could stick his cucumber. The show never got off the ground, which was just as well because Star Wars wouldn’t have worked as a gay pantomime – Princess Leia’s sexual chemistry with Han Solo is too important to the story.
Speaking of which, Carrie Fisher has revealed that her movie flirtation with Harrison Ford was accompanied by all sorts of hanky-panky off-screen. On one occasion she found her rugged co-star naked in her closet. It didn’t seem to bother her, probably because she admitted to having a huge crush on him. It makes me wonder if a man can ever go wrong by appearing unclothed before a woman who fancies him.
Of course, a naked man who infiltrates a woman’s private space is generally up to no good. I was shocked to hear of a pervert who broke into the home of an 88-year-old woman in Portland and confronted the old lady in the nude. She immediately grabbed hold of his genitals and squeezed them with a force that was far too great to bring him any pleasure. He ran away yelping, but was later apprehended by the police.
The woman’s behaviour reminds me of Sassy Miss Kara, a fierce little minx who also lives in Portland. I recall her once boasting of the manoeuvres she had learned to maim any man who dared to molest her. Such skills are often passed down the maternal line, which brings us once again to the question of family resemblance. Is the dick-crushing dowager Miss Kara’s grandmother? I await her answer with dignified patience.
Labels: Carrie Fisher, Harrison Ford, Star Wars
