As I write this, I'm seriously considering whether or not I can actually call myself a blogger anymore. To be honest, of late, even the term 'casual blogger' is pushing it, as I haven't really managed to get here to much lately, to write or read. (Perhaps I'll have to resort to 'drive-by blogger ' . . . )

In all honesty, although I could easily point the finger (no, Ben, the index finger, silly) at the kids' summer break, family vacations, serious computer issues (rectified by Hubby's b-day gift, the HP notebook I'm typing on now), a couple of babies born into the extended family, and prepping for the new school year, I might as well cut to the chase and make a confession: I have been seriously cheating on sw.com, and The Saga in general for that matter, with none other than The Boy Who Live . . . s On Despite the Release of Book 7.

That's right, folks, Pottermania has had a death grip on this household all summer. Between the pre- and post-book release hype, the midnight Barnes & Noble joint, and seeing OoTP multiple times, I have been neglecting my Fan Force participation. (Well, that plus a serious case of post-C4 fan fall-off. Something like, I came, I saw, I met great folks I now contact on my own, and the rest is a bit anti-climactic.) So I don't feel all that guilty about turning to Harry to fill my needs, as I've grown quite sick of waiting for news of the SW TV shows. Besides, re-reading the entire HP series is giving me something to do while I wait for my next LOTF installment (next week, baby!).

Yes, I know, I need serious intervention

So, as summer 2007 prepares to skid to a grinding halt, and I prepare once again to fight soccer moms over the last 10-cent composition book at Target, here are my thoughts on my two loves, Darth Ani (the boy who terrorized, and then saved, the galaxy) and Sir Harry (the boy who lived and then saved the wizarding world, and introduced me to my very indecent and worrisome crush, one Ronald Weasley. Shut up; I know it's horribly inappropriate, but I have a thing for redheads and accents, in that order.)

1. Voldemort and Sidious should really get together for tea sometime.

The similarities between Harry and Luke or Ani are too numerous (and obvious) for me to get into here. But the bad guys from my two favorite sagas are also like two peas in a pod, and that metaphor is even more fun when those two peas are, well, rotten.

Come on - bad cosmetic surgery, annoying underaged nemeses that refuse to go away, treating one's underlings like dirt - could these two have any more in common?

On a more serious note, all of us old folks who remember the 70s (and some of Lucas's interviews from that decade, as well as the next) know full well that Sidious was very much meant to personify the perceived callousness of that era's government figureheads (trickle-down theory of helping the poor, etc.), and that 'empire' could very well have been synonymous for the 'conservative regime'.

Reading HP, though, I always got a very specific sense that, for me at least, Voldemort was channeling Hitler in particular. Not just in that Cartman-esque 'I shall take over the world and rule you all' sense, but in the sense of a guy determined to buoy his own rise to evil domination with an entire philosophy of evil that is capable of existing long after he's gone. In Sidious' case, his Sith teachings were designed to be carried on by whomever turned out to be the most deserving of his hands.

In Voldemort's case, I see more of the the selfish dictator; although he is obviously hell-bent on promoting the supremacy of what he feels is the 'superior race', he, like Hitler, is ultimately more concerned with his own fame, power, and glory. It's ironic that he, like Hitler, was of 'mixed' blood himself (Hitler having at least one Jewish ancestor we know of; Tom Riddle, of course, being the son of a Muggle - talk about self-hate). It's also ironic that this single-minded obsession is, in all the ways that matter, what eventually brought about their demise.

Which brings us to . . .

2. It's a beautiful thing that the worst evil will, time and again, give birth to the most powerful good.

My Hubby-Wan, who thinks I'm a sappy, overly-optimistic nut who refuses to see human nature for what it is (but loves me anyway), tells me that my faith in the tendency of humanity to band together in the face of evil simply boils down to the old adage 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend'. Well, being a history teacher, I can't begin to argue with that one.

However, as I reread book 6 of HP recently (I actually confessed to hansgirl that I was having a bit of withdrawal, as I was eager to reread book 7 but had loaned it out to a friend; she seems to still be my friend despite my obvious addictions, so at least someone understands me), I was reminded of my absolute favorite passage from the world of SW novelizations. It goes something like this:

"The dark is generous, and it is patient, and it always wins - but in the heart of its strength lies weakness: one candle alone is enough to hold it back.

Love is more than a candle.

Love can ignite the stars."

When I read this, which is actually the entire contents of the last page of Matthew Stover's ROTS, I had me a little SW moment - you know, one of those moments you cling to when folks accuse your SW obsession of being frivilous-slash-mindless. It struck me as beautifully simple - one candle can, indeed, battle the darkness. Darkness can't do that to the light of day.

It's much the same with our reaction to great evil. Sure, those who thrive on darkness will always be there, lurking about, waiting to catch the world off guard. But let that evil get out of control - say a guy like Hitler stunning the world with his reign of terror across Europe - and bam-presto, those who may have been complacent before are now moved in ways they wouldn't have been before.

Think of the forces of good that most of us hold dear. There would have been no Rebel 'Scum' if there wasn't an Empire to combat. How many times have we heard EU Leia lament that folks got along so much better when they had Sidious as their common enemy? And in our own world, imagine any world power attempting to convince the world's superpowers to cooperate. Not a chance. But along comes one of the most evil dictators the world has ever seen, and centuries-old enemies are fighting in the same trenches side by side.

Heck, New Yorkers usually can't stand each other, and we were the most supportive and cooperative city you'd ever wanna see after 9-11. Matter of fact, it's an ironic twist of fate that the terrorists who took down two landmarks in my city probably never considered that in their desire to harm us, they actually created a kinder, gentler New York that never could have happened if we hadn't been forced to endure such a horrific period in our city's history together.

Which brings me back to Sir Harry, his mentor, Dumbledore, and book 6 (HBP). In a passage that's much easier to understand in hindsight, Dumbledore chews Harry out over his inability to understand his potential power over his nemesis. When Harry lets on that he's rather tired of being reminded that love is such a powerful weapon in the face of evil, Dumbledore insists that Harry understand the magnitude of his very existence. For in destroying James and Lily Potter, Voldemort actually created the only being who would ever be able to destroy him. In his mission to seek out the child of the prophecy predicting his death, he created the instrument of that prophecy himself.

By attempting to snuff out any chance of good prevailing over evil, he birthed the means of his own demise.

Sound familiar? Of course, my other love, Ani, made it even simpler for us to understand.

He literally gave birth to the one who would eventually be his downfall. (Well, Padme did have a little something to do with it, I guess. But you get the idea.)


When it comes right down to it, Jason Mraz isnot only supremely talented, but right on the money - Life is Wonderful indeed. Where one evil is born, like spiritual spyware or antibodies for the world's karma, not only does the very tool for it's obliteration come to life, but it comes to be at the hand of the very evil it exists to combat.

Maybe that's what Yoda meant when he said that the path to the Dark Side isn't stronger, just easier. I(Come to think of it, he and Dumbledore should probably schedule a play date too; two more very wrinkled peas in a pod, those two . . )

Perhaps that's why JKR threw us that deceptively simple New Testament quote about death being the last enemy to be defeated (Corinthians, I believe). Because sure enough, it's our knowledge that death is lurking around out ther that make us savor every drop of love, beauty, and joy that life has to offer. Just by being there, on our peripheral, death cancels itself out; it makes us cherish life that much more.

In their rush towards 'taking over the world', as Pinky would say to the Brain, perhaps it's easy for the bad guys to overlook the fact that their very existence turns average men and women into heroes, and that our knowledge of their existence, seen or unseen, is what gives us the strength to make the hard decisions, to be like Harry and Luke and choose the more difficult path.





Well, that's it for me until I resurface from LOTF and spew my thoughts on you lot.

(And oh yeah, for those of you who know me, of course I did weep like a fool when I finished The Deathly Hallows. Um . . . actually . . . the weeping started about 2/3rds of the way through, hit an ugly crescendo when Ron was crying out for you-know-who with all his heart, and pretty much continued from there on out in a fevered pitch.

But that's between us, OK?)