May the farce be with you…

Whilst travelling on the tube this evening, I saw a poster for a phone network that had Yoda on a poolside diving board. Yoda!

It just didn’t sit right with me. Or maybe I should say: “sit right with me, it did not”.

Star Wars is sacred and awesome.

Fact.

I’ll even concede that the prequels, despite being nowhere near as good as the original trilogy, weren’t all bad…except for Jar Jar (I’sa wanting to punchy puncha da fishyfacey Binks betcha betcha). So to see the wise green Jedi master reduced to advertising talk plans makes me want to go all Bantha-shit crazy on their asses and shove a lightsaber up their thermal exhaust ports.

Come on George, have some dignity!

I’ve also seen Darth Vader advertising all sorts of shit in the past. Unless its Ventolin or black Turtle Wax, it’s not on!

I have a bad feeling about this.

So please don’t allow Chewbacca to start promoting hair straighteners, or Queen Amidala start advertising make up. It’ll break my heart.

And don’t even think about touching R2-D2; there will be blood.

Bleep bloop beep booweeeeee!

You said it R2.

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