If Sir Fleming assumes this Star Wars picture to be "A joy! A sheer fucking joy!" then I have no reason for to assume otherwise.

I'd moved on from Don't Stand Me Down, so what I've got in the ear-holes is Fevers And Mirrors by Bright Eyes, but much as I love young Conner, and I think I would love him with great intensity if the situation ever arose in a dimly-lit tavern or barn, I just can't be having his temper-tantrums at this time.

"You were my sunshine!!!! RAGH!"

Shush now, Bright Eyes. I'm in a Star Wars kinda mood right now. I'm going on my own to see Star Wars Episode III for the first time.

I saw Episode II on my own the first time too, Bright Eyes, but that was different. That was cause my fiancée was at work and so couldn't make the first screening of the day, which I had to attend, since my very lungs depended on it.

I knew that there would be another viewing the next day, and I'd have a hand for to hold, and a friend for to cuddle, and maybe even, without getting rude about it all Bright Eyes, maybe we might even degrade ourselves in a puddle of sweat and filth-sauce right there in the presence of Yoda.

"Skinny arsehole I see. Bumping around, it is. Not long it took."

But this here is a solo venture, and it'll be chaste screenings from here on in, I would wager. Maybe I'll see it with some friends some time before it leaves the cinema, but I can't imagine any filth'll take place.

Still, fuck it, man, it's Star Wars Episode III.

To be all the honest in Wisconsin, I found the trailer a bit under-whelming. It just didn't seem all that wonderful. Then again, it made it clear that there would be moments of undeniable wonder in the parent feature, so who knows, maybe that's all a trailer needs to do.

But I'm confident. I'm grinning on this back seat, I got Ice-T hollering away in my ear-hole.

"Alright, when we get up in this house all I want is the motherfuckin' kids. Far as Pops I don't give a fuck what you do, bust him in his motherfuckin' head. He got any money, take it…"

Baaa-ba-b-ba ba-ba-baaa-baaa

Best intro ever. Screeching descending adrenaline, right there in my lug-drums. "This is home invasion!"

A fella feels psyched. A fella feels like maybe this picture might be all he imagines it might be.

A fella feels hopped to the nuts on the force. A fella's midichlorians are running wild.

I got out the vehicle, bid farewell to my companions, and made my way up the steps, stopping for a smoke on account of some girls were stood around lookin' all too attractive, and even though a buncha psychopaths were tryin to bust their teeth open by way of some skateboarding shindigs of some sort, I felt calm, and aroused, even.