Here's where my complicated nature truly comes into play. You see, I have a confession to make. A deep, dark confession that will make me the scourge of Star Wars fans across the globe. You see...

I love the Ewoks.

I can't help myself. I have tried to see where the haters are coming from. I have watched Return of the Jedi many times since the startling Ewok Hater Movement started, and somehow...

I still laugh when that one Ewok says "Eat it!" to Han Solo when he is putting that spear in his face, and when the other Ewok says "That guy's wise" after Threepio says the Ewok version of "hello".

I still laugh when Wicket hits himself in the face with his own sling.

I still feel the tears well up when the two Ewoks are struck by the walker blast and the survivor cries over the body of his dead friend(maybe even a brother -- or sister or mate?).

I still silently smile when Threepio says "We surrender," and the Ewoks suddenly attack the stormtroopers.

I still supress a cheer when the Ewoks suddenly spring out of the foliage and start tearing into the Imperial legion.

And I still marvel at the Ewoks' ingenuity at creating the Dual-Log Walker Smasher and the Walker Destabilization Logslide...not to mention the choke lines they used to stop the Imperial scout bikes.

The Ewoks may be cutsy and even annoying at times, but for me, they embody the true essence of heroism. One can see the ancient Celts and Native Americans within their teddy-bear bodies -- for within those bodies are beings that are simply trying to preserve their home. And armed with only sticks and stones, they helped bring down the greatest Empire in the history of the galaxy. Isn't that worth something?