This balaclava is going to give me the worst case of hat-hair. Oh well, it's too cold not to wear it and I'm not exactly overly concerned with appearance up here. I'll just wriggle down into the sleeping bag a bit further. Damn, it's cold, even in this tiny tent with two other people. Still, you'd think that here of all places you could rely on some warmth. You know what, it must be the altitude. I suppose that wherever you are in the world, if you're high enough to need medication to increase your oxygen absorbtion efficiency, then it's going to be a mite on the chilly side. I'll just try and get to sleep now, and it'll be all nice and cosy in the morning...
"Have you heard about the new Star Wars film?"
I guess I won't be going to sleep then. "What about it?"
"Have you heard", continues my companion, "what it's going to be called?"
"No. What's the word?" say I, too worn-out to muster any great deal of enthusiasm.
"It's called 'Attack of the Clones'", says he.
I pause for a moment of reflection. "Sounds like a '50s B-movie"
"Hmm"
"Guys, quiet down. I'm trying to get some shut eye"
Silence.
The comforting arms of sleep gently embrace us all.

And so it was that I learned the title of Episode Two whilst 13,000 feet above sea level, camped on the scree-littered slopes of Mount Kenya (near-as-damn-it on the equator), wearing a hat that made me look like a reject from the 'special' division of the Russian army. That was in 2001 which, if you examine my profile, would make me 14 at the time. It would also make me just getting over the disappointment that any monoliths on the moon were remaining very much undiscovered and that psychotic computers were not immediately in evidence; but that's a different story and, I think, probably infringes on several copyrights.

I've been thinking a good deal of late and not always about SW. Yes, I do have other concerns, such as winning the SPL title in FIFA 07 and staying one step ahead of those accursed loan sharks - I safeguard my kneecaps jealously; I've come too far to lose them now. Still, every once in a while I think of something in and of the Saga which I cannot answer and which chafes away at that portion of my brain marked in large, gothic script, "Abandon hope, all ye who enter". It could be something simple, like a concern I had about Qui-Gon's cremation, for example. It's not that he didn't disappear, viz. Yoda, it's that he's being cremated on an open fire. Everyone's standing around it with their poe-faced, solemn expressions when they should be gagging at the atrocious stench of bubbling fat. After all, burning a handful of your hairs smells bad enough, plus I haven't even gotten to the health and safety concerns. I'm sure there are forms to fill in. In triplicate.
Anyway, you catch my drift: I have bizarre thoughts about SW, then I post them here for your consumption and so the circle of life turns ever onward in great, ponderous, month-long cycles. The important thing is not to get answers but to have a jolly good laugh whilst inserting as many double-entendres as is possible for one man. Yes, I do love this site and all it's splendorous inhabitants and so (Woop! Subject change again) I occasionally cast my baleful consciousness upon the subject of how one might make it even better, 'cause I'm not easily pleased, me.
Exempli gratia, I did have a thought that there could be some sort of competition to design some new avatars. Slap me if this has already happened, but I was thinking each person could enter one and the best three (or whatever) would be made available for use as avatars for all. Obviously we're talking about the "Underground Cool" section here, because otherwise you could just take a screenshot from the films and that's just cheap.
And how about those Yodacons, eh? There's still five spaces in there and I'm sure that if we all put our heads together then we could come up with some hilarious and ultimately useless novelty additions. What I really need is one which conveys bemusment coupled with willful inattention, because, for me, this just doesn't cut it.

So, anything to say? Anything preying on your mind? Do you become easily confused, baffled or nonplussed? You may require some sort of prescription drugs, but in lieu of that just let it all out here - with the rest of the garbage.

I dedicate this entry to confusedone mainly for dedicating an entry to me. I think you begin to see how this works.

P.S.

Celtic 3-0 Benfica

They come from bonnie Scotland, they come from County Cork,
They come from dear old Donegal and even from New York,
From every street in Glasgow they proudly make their way,
To a place called dear old Paradise and this is what they say...