Now that we've got all that boring formality out of the way, let's get into it shall we? Oh, one more thing, if I sound like I don't know what the heck I'm talking about ... odds are I probably don't. Cheers!

Folks, it's no stunning revelation that our society loves to wallow in mediocrity. If I wrote for some hip magazine like Rolling Stone or Vanity Fair, I'd rant on like a slathering fiend for five thousand words about why the masses flock to bland, uninspiring, and unoriginal music, film, TV, and fashion product. However, this is a Star Wars column, and I'm forced to focus my thoughts and apply this concept of mass mediocrity to our beloved space opera. Don't get excited, I'm not saying that Star Wars is mediocre. Well, not yet anyway. Allow me to elaborate.

You see, Star Trek is mediocre. I realize that statement might ruffle some feathers, but let's be honest here. There really isn't anything special about it anymore ... it's just ... there. They've tarnished the legacy of that franchise by saturating the market with hundreds of meandering novels, several woefully average (and one or two atrocious) films, and some of the most painful television to come along since The "New" WKRP in Cincinnati (shudder). The Trek brand has become a pitiful, frail, watered down version of its former self, and if the new film Nemesis fails to inspire greatness or box office gold, it might be down for the count for good. The questions I have in my mind are, "Could this happen to Star Wars? Is it possible the magic and wonder of this star fantasy could be wiped away? Could Star Wars ... "just be there"?

The answer is a terrifying "yes," and how it could get to that state might shock the living crap out of you. As I write this, Episode II is about to be unleashed on cineplexes around the Globe, and based on its box office performance and its general perception by the public, the fate of the franchise can go one of two ways. Let's explore ...

Scenario #1: After lackluster reviews, lukewarm reception by non-hardcore Star Wars enthusiasts, a glut of unsold merchandise, and what I like to refer to as the "Jar-Jar syndrome," Episode I failed to connect on a number of levels. It's just reality. But let's say Episode II surpasses everyone's expectations, and goes on to make an obscene amount of money at the box-office, (oh, around $565 million domestic). Let's also imagine that the film makes critics see the heavenly light of God. I'm talking some serious critical adulation here. Upon seeing this visionary magnum opus, Harry Knowles' beard bursts into flame, Roeper's feeble little mind literally explodes, and Roger Ebert simply stops going to and writing about movies because, well ... why bother now? Great scenario, right? Fantastic, huh? Wait, it gets better.

Star Wars is white hot. Nuclear. Stores can't keep merchandise on the shelves. Millions of children go to sleep every night in Star Wars bedsheets, clutching Anakin action figures, surrounded by Star Wars drapes, piggy banks, and myriad other Lucas-approved baubles. Jango and Boba Fett co-host an episode of TRL. Episode III is released to enormous fanfare, taking in even more money at the box office, and people are not satisfied, not even close. They won't accept Lucas' statement of "six films and it's over." The masses want more Jedi, more aliens, more battledroids, and (gasp) more Gungans!

This sounds tremendous, right? Exactly what we want to happen, right? Wrong. So, utterly, tragically, wrong. This is the absolute worst thing that could happen to Star Wars, because this, my friends, is when lawyers get involved.

And TV networks.

And mass merchandisers.

And marketing experts.

And publishing houses.

And ... George's kids.

So, to satisfy the rabid public's cravings for new Star Wars material, Lucas reluctantly approves the launch of two syndicated live-action Star Wars programs and one Saturday-morning animated series. They are rushed into production with minimal budgets and "talent" like the stars of Two Guys, a Girl and a Pizza Place play Jedi Knights.

They suck.

Dozens upon dozens of new novels are cranked out based on various time periods in Star Wars history. Top-name writers grab up the fat contracts and pass them off to ghost-writing hacks who churn them out at an astonishing pace.

They suck even more.

After exhausting the merchandising possibilities from the six existing films, action figures, t-shirts, and other merchandise are placed on store shelves based on new creations from the TV series, novels, and comic books.

They proceed to collect more dust than the copy of Hot to Trot lurking at your local Blockbuster.

The final atrocity, and the worst of them all, comes when lawyers and studio executives come to visit the ranch, begging and pleading with George to allow someone else to continue the Star Wars saga beyond six films. All sorts of names are bandied about in a tense, three-day powwow. Names like Joel Schumacher, David Fincher, Ang Lee, John Woo, Peter Jackson, and the Wachowskis. George, however, is unimpressed and unmoved. Because of his hatred for Hollywood, he shoots down all the top names and agrees to allow only one man to continue the Star Wars saga ... Rick McCallum.

A collective shudder rises up from the Star Wars faithful. McCallum excitedly holds a huge press conference with Mark Hamill to announce the start of production on Episodes 7-9, which will be filmed simultaneously, just like Lord of the Rings. Freddie Prinze Jr., Justin Timberlake, and The Pepsi Girl are cast as Han and Leia's Jedi offspring. Snags arise, however, when Hamill, Peter Mayhew, Billy Dee Williams, and Anthony Daniels are the only principals who agree to return. Harrison Ford is too busy shooting Indy 4, and publicly states that after he finishes, he'd rather staple live field mice to his chest than shoot Nazis or Stormtroopers. Ever. Again. Carrie Fisher completely denounces the franchise and refuses to allow the mailman to even deliver the script.. (Don't believe me? Just watch the commentary track on Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back to see how far she will go out of her way to avoid any Star Wars references).

"No problem," says McCallum.

"We have advanced computer technology to the point where we can digitally re-create an actor's performance," McCallum gushes at a press conference. Using footage from Ford and Fisher's past films, ILM uses CGI to age them appropriately and completely construct new performances. The results are a nightmare. It looks creepy, surreal, and totally unnatural. Episodes 7-9 are a complete disaster. They fail to earn $400 million combined, and perform even worse overseas.

Novels, comic books, and other merchandise based on the first six films continue to do ok in fandom, but the legacy of Star Wars is stained forever. When Star Wars is mentioned most people snicker and recall the terrible CGI Han and Leia, or the goofy TV series instead of Luke swinging across the Death Star chasm or Obi Wan and Anakin's climactic duel over the lava. Just like Star Trek, Star Wars becomes painfully middle of the road fare. Nothing special, just ... there.

Scenario #2: Episode II is released and takes in about $235 million domestic. Great numbers, and good enough to claim the top gross of the summer, but far from its usual gargantuan purse. The movie is rock solid, and Star Wars fans are more than pleased with it. Merchandise sales plummet however, only coming in at about half of Episode I totals. Star Wars loses a lot of its appeal with the mass movie-going population, but along with this, a lot of the "geek" jokes and stigma associated with Star Wars fades as Episode III is released in May, 2005. The film is dark, terrifying, moving, and thrilling. Fans and critics hail it as the best film of the series. The box office is once again solid, but the dark nature of the movie scares off a lot of parents and casual fans. After merchandise sales falter and drop off yet again, Lucas is more than happy with the way things turned out and officially puts and end to the saga. No one argues with him this time.

The saga is neatly wrapped up with four great films, two solid ones with some nagging problems, some good comic books, and maybe a few too many novels. The important thing, however, is that there are no TV series, no god-awful entries to the film saga, and no piles of useless merchandise based on these mistakes to taint the public's perceptions and memories of the words Star Wars. People will remember Luke shooting that miracle proton torpedo into the Death Star, the lightsaber duels between Luke and Vader, The Emperor shooting lightning into a helpless Luke, Qui-Gon Jinn and a young Obi-Wan dueling Darth Maul, an army of clone soldiers battling against a hopeless amount of battledroids, and Obi-Wan walking through the deserts of Tatooine to hand over the galaxy's new hope to Owen Lars. Memories preserved. Legend intact.

So you see, boys and girls, while many of us hope and pray that Episode II stomps all over those pesky hobbits and sinks the Titanic, the overall magic of our one great love might be better served to bow out quietly and gracefully. But then again, that's just my opinion, and what do I know? After all, this is really ... Not The Column You're Looking For.

See you next time!