Last week, I went to go see the new Star Wars movie with a couple of buddies. I wouldn't agree to seeing it in anything less than full digital projection. Seeing this movie was one of the only things I've looked forward to in the past few months. It was ultimately fulfilling, but predictably disappointing at the same time. Nothing's ever as good as I hope it's going to be.

When the movie was about the start, and we were greeted by the THX intro with the insane crescendo of weird fake-orchestral noise, something moved inside of me. Emotionally. I felt something rise up, and my eyes started to water. And I didn't understand it. I haven't felt anything in the past month. And all it took was the stupid intro sequence for a movie theater's sound system to finally make me feel something? I obsessed over this for the first half hour of the movie, wondering if I was somehow moved by this epic noise itself, or by the fact that it was completely synthetic and created by human beings. Like some surreal aural monument to humanity's genius. In any case, I tried to stop obsessing about it and focus on the shitty dialogue and acting in star wars, but I just couldn't shake the feeling I had inside me. I wanted to cry. I looked around and watched all these gross beasts surrounding me, stuffing their faces with raisinets, icees, and nacho chips covered in plastic-like cheese. This vision quickly sobered me up, and I got back into the movie, trying to escape and regain that feeling I had as a child when I'd watch my favorite movies or play with my favorite action figures. By the end of the night I was back to my regular numb self, and slept a good night's sleep, my dreams filled with wookies and hero-destroying romances.

Next time, I'll tell you a better story. I promise.