Epic Fail

My favorite film critic, Entertainment Weekly's Owen Gleiberman, gave "Star Wars: The Clone Wars" an F! I've been reading his reviews for years, and rarely has he unleashed the F-bomb. To put this in perspective, he gave "Underdog" a B-minus. I sat through that movie, and trust me, he was being kind.

This is just more confirmation that Lucas has lost the magic. It's like finding out there's no Santa Claus.

I Don't Get It

The Tallahassee Democrat reported last week that it would lay off eight people, an announcement that's been disturbingly common in newsrooms across the country. This is what the publisher had to say:

"To maintain the financial health of our business and to ensure we remain positioned for the future and the inevitable rebound of the economy and our business, we must be proactive in responding to negative conditions. Unfortunately, that means we are going to have to reduce positions.”

Here's what I don't understand: How can you "remain positioned for the future" if you have fewer people to write, report and edit the news? It's not like the paper has a fat staff or tons of extra resources. I know the economy sucks and that my beloved newspaper industry is tanking right now, but these canned explanations are starting to wear thin. Just once, I wish some newspaper executive would resist the urge to sugarcoat the situation and say, "The reality is that we're not going to be able to give our readers as much as we did before. The loss of staff will inevitably affect the quality and content of our newspaper, which we deeply regret."

I expect these kind of corporate talking points from widget-making conglomerates, but not from newspaper companies. I'm naive that way.

Dear George Lucas: We're Through

I'm marking today date as the official start date of my indifference to George Lucas' projects. A new "Star Wars" film hit theaters today, and I don't even care. This is huge.

My son is over the moon about the animated "Clone Wars" flick, but he also wanted to see "Space Chimps." I'm so done with Lucas that I've asked my husband to take the kids without me. Through his crappy prequels and endless DVD re-releases of the originals, Lucas has all but killed my ardor for the franchise. It's his, so he can do what he wants. But I don't have to pretend to enjoy it.

In 1999, I sat through "The Phantom Menace" twice, trying to convince myself that it was good. When I looked over at my co-worker and fellow "SW" fanatic, G., I could tell he was doing the same: Trying to like it. Trying hard. I didn't expect the same cracked-out rush I had when I saw "Star Wars" for the first time at age 7, but I wasn't even entertained.

Lucas got me again with "Attack of the Clones" ("I don't like sand..."). "Revenge of the Sith" was all right, but when I look back, the only thing I really dug about episodes 1-3 was Ewan McGregor. The final light saber battle with Anakin was on point, but that's, what, 10 minutes? When the final credits rolled, I sat in the theater thinking, "I'm supposed to believe (or care) that Anakin's bad dreams about Padme led him to ruin? That's it?!"

I hate that it's come to this, but I have to get out with my dignity intact. At least I have the Cartoon Network DVDs (which were fantastic) to comfort me.

Matt Lauer Must Be Stopped

So there was Olympic swimmer Ryan Lochte on the "Today" show, four gold medals around his neck while talking to Matt Lauer. Dude swam two races just 27 minutes apart, taking gold in one (200-meter backstroke) and bronze in another (200-meter individual relay). In my world, that qualifies as amazing.

But Lauer spent most of the interview asking Lochte about ... Michael Phelps. It was embarrassing at first, and then it became infuriating. Lauer has never been my favorite television interviewer, but this was shoddy, even by his standards. He hit rock bottom when he asked Lochte "how America would have felt" if he had beaten Phelps in the individual relay and "derailed his dream." Gee, I don't know. Happy for Lochte?

Lochte handled the situation gracefully, and to Phelps' credit, he doesn't seem to be participating in the media orgy around him. But it has to suck to be an athlete at the top of your game, scoring medals in the Olympics, and having journalists grill you nonstop about your teammate. They deserve their moment, too. Why not ask the equestrian team about what their performance means for Phelps' legacy?

This is why people complain about "the media," which is totally unfair to the hundreds of real journalists who are in the trenches in Beijing. I think I'm going to follow my brother's example by watching the games with the "mute" button on.

They (Heart) Michael Phelps

I am in awe of Michael Phelps, who may or may not be human. But I wonder if the hyperventilating commentators have any idea how they sound as they remind viewers every two seconds that Phelps is amazing.

This is not intended to take anything away from the man's accomplishments, which are, well, amazing. The problem is that the commentators can't stop drooling over him, even when Phelps isn't the U.S. team member who's swimming. While one of Phelps' teammates swam a qualifying heat, analysts Dan Hicks and Rowdy Gaines delivered nonstop commentary ... about Michael Phelps. They yakked about the teammate's "great" relationship with Phelps, how the teammate helped Phelps learn how to loosen up, and on and on and on. When Phelps is actually in the pool, Hicks and Gaines go into overdrive. At one point, the camera went to a close-up of Phelps' size-14 feet, which, according to the giddy commentators, help him dust the competition. I fully expected them to launch into a fawning analysis of Phelps' manhood.

In my family, the Olympics are as much about the commentators as the athletes. Watching physical competition at such an elite level is thrilling, but the commentary provides a bonus of unintentional comedy. Take gymnastics analyst Tim Daggett. Daggett was on the U.S. men's gymnastics team in 1984, and he has a gift for dissecting every wobble, hop and slightly shaky landing. His favorite phrase: "That's going to be a three-tenths deduction!" Dude is harsh, but at least no one can accuse him of gushing.

Apply Within

My friend Shag wrote this brilliant post about the requirements for geeks who are married with children. It’s a thing of beauty, and boy, could I relate. Proper geekdom requires a level of obsession (and funding) that is usually incompatible with the life of domesticated parent. For example, I have a modest stack of new comics in my car, but I won’t be able to read them anytime soon. When I get home, the kids are going to want, you know, attention, and then my husband will expect me to listen while he recaps his day. Go figure.

Even if I do get 20 minutes of alone time, one of my children will see me reading a comic book and attempt to hijack the action. And if you’ve picked up a comic book lately, you know that many of them are inappropriate for young children. That’s why taking them to the comic book store is such a nightmare, because they don’t always distinguish between “Tiny Titans” and “The Slow, Bloody Death of J’onn J’onzz: Book 1.”

My son has the attention span of a fruit bat, so when he asks me to read one of my kid-friendly comics to him, he inevitably skips 6 panels ahead (“Why is Batman yelling at Robin like that?”), asks a random question (“Does Wonder Woman Speak Spanish?”), or mimicks the action. Sometimes he’ll go the other extreme and actually chide me for skipping a “Kra-KOOM!” or a “Fwooosh!”

His sister usually attempts a bait-and-switch. If I'm engrossed in “Final Crisis,” that’s her chance to grab a “Betty & Veronica” book and sweetly ask if we can “read this one instead.” You can’t fully appreciate how lame Archie comics are until you’ve read them aloud as an adult. Every plot is the same: Reggie is an asshole. Archie is an idiot with commitment issues. Jughead is closeted.

Anyway, Shag covered the bases extremely well, but I thought of three additional job requirements:

1. Applicant must have a high tolerance for geek ignorance among his/her family members. When applicant's non-geek spouse refers to Black Canary's husband as "Green Lantern" instead of "Green Arrow," applicant must resist the urge to sigh and sharply correct him/her.

2. Applicant must be willing to hunt down accurate comics-themed costumes for his/her children, even if that means fighting the hordes at Wal-Mart for the last Wonder Woman costume in a size 2-4T. If essential accessories are missing, such as the golden lasso, applicant must be willing to make his/her own. If applicant has more than one child, costume team-ups (Batman/Robin, Shazam/Mary Marvel, Hawk/Dove) are strongly encouraged.

3. Applicant must make sure that his/her children understand the original "Star Wars" trilogy's vast superiority to the prequels. References to "Anakin" and "Qui-Gon" as favorite characters are to be discouraged with repeated viewings of "The Empire Strikes Back."

It's For The Kids! I Swear!

Entertainment Weekly gave their album a B-plus and said parents would secretly dig it. Rolling Stone gave it four out of five stars, though I acknowledge that RS hasn't had any credibility since 1990. Newsday gave them props. So get off my back about maybe, sort of liking the Jonas Brothers' music! My son thinks they're cool. OK? Yes, the "Camp Rock" soundtrack was a crime against humanity, but even Paul McCartney has recorded some crap in his lifetime.

Hipsters, do not judge me. Because somewhere buried beneath your Vampire Weekend, Clipse and Pixies CDs is a copy of the "High School Musical 2" soundtrack. I just know it.