It's not the music, which is excellent, or the lyrics, which are inspired and flow much better than parodies usually do, or the video editing, which was wonderful.

It's that this version is much more emotional, better directed, and easier to understand than the originals.

You have to give it up for George Lucas. The products of his mind and his people offer rich, nearly untapped wells of unbounded creativity for other people to make better stuff with. Kudos, Mr. Lucas. Kudos.

I love the Internet. And not platonically, either.

Oh, yeah, it’s also some “Star Wars” thing.

Specifically it’s the 30th anniversary of George Lucas’ original film, which opened in 32 theaters on May 25, 1977, introduced us to Luke, Obi-Wan, Leia, Darth Vader, Han Solo, Chewbacca, R2D2, and C3P0, and went on to make a billion kajillion dollars with five more sequels/prequels, a staggering amount of action figures and other toys, books, artwork, novelty ties, and much, much more. There is no aspect of human life that “Star Wars” has not touched, or at least been marketed at. "Star Wars," like a bowling ball dropped into a punch bowl, changed everything and affected everyone nearby.

Which makes it impossible to write about, since in the last 30 years we’ve pretty much read everything about it. Columnists desperate for something to write about (i.e. all columnists) have talked about the movie, the making of the movie, Lucas' dreams, Lucas' nightmares, Lucas' grocery lists, the other movies, the merchandise, the fans, the secret Lucas grocery list uncovered years later that revealed Lucas hated milk despite earlier reports, the prequels, the original novels, the conventions, the even-secreter Lucas grocery list that proved Lucas loved milk and showered in it but removed it from the list in post-production, and what the columnist in question personally thought when the columnist personally saw it. That last is the easiest since no actual research is required, a big plus when your deadline is looming over you like a small moon.

Except for me, because I can't remember a thing about seeing the first movie. It was in the theater, I know, since this was before Blockbuster and bit torrents. I know I liked it, because I set aside my "Star Trek" toys (temporarily) and began demanding "Star Wars" toys, a simple little request that eventually cost us our mortgage. Who knew? (Sorry, Mom.)

I do have memories of seeing "Empire" in the theater — some degree of truancy was involved, so we could catch the premiere before everybody else in school, most of whom were right there with us — and I remember hearing, for the first time, an audience full of people gasping, cheering, and clapping at something they saw on the screen (the asteroid chase). Otherwise, I got nothing.

However, I do have a special place in my heart for people making fun of "Star Wars," and that stuff I can recall instantly, such as:

MAD Magazine's 1978 "Star Wars" musical parody

This I remember way more vividly than the actual movie. Already a MAD fan, I was blown away by Mort Drucker's characterizations and the brilliant script by Frank Jacobs, featuring such songs as "I've Grown Accustomed to the Force" (sung to "I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face"), "That's What We've Got In a Second-Hand Droid" (sung to "These are a Few of My Favorite Things") and Darth Vader's version of "My Way":

At noon…
I have a meal
Of molten lead
On shredded granite
And if…
Depressed I feel,
I wipe out dead,
A passing planet!

"Weird Al" Yankovic's "Yoda"

Ah, the classics. "Weird Al" had already made his mark by this point, releasing spot-on parodies of songs by Michael Jackson and Madonna, but this maddeningly catchy little song to the tune of The Kinks' "Lola" just got more and more popular until it became, paired with Yankovic's "The Saga Begins," his signature encore number. See it live, if you can, to catch the indescribable "Yoda Chant" in the middle.

The Star Wars Kid
I have to confess, I have never seen this video in its entirety, but I know of its results. In 2002 a fourteen-year-old Quebecois student filmed himself acting out light saber moves with a golf ball retriever. This being the age of the Internet, the video was leaked online and became an Internet phenomenon, partly because the kid was overweight and ungainly (and who doesn't love watching that?) and partly because some people started adding special effects, sound, and music to the video until the result was cooler and more understandable than "Attack of the Clones." Personally I preferred Stephen Colbert's version.

George Lucas in Love

A short film by USC student Joe Nussbaum, this brilliant little piece parodies both "Star Wars" and "Shakespeare in Love," depicting a young Lucas searching for inspiration despite the startlingly familiar faces and themes around him. It isn't until he meets a young woman with a bizarre hairdo who tells him about her "student rebellion" that he finally finds his destiny. "George Lucas in Love" won lots of awards, was voted most popular "Star Wars" fan film, got a thank you note from Lucas himself, and even outsold "Phantom Menace" for a day on Amazon.

Professor: No. Search not. Inspiration will you not find. It will find you.
George: Could you talk forward?

The Chopped Off Hands of Star Wars

The only site devoted to George Lucas' bizarre anti-hand stance, analyzing every single lopped-off-hand in the entire saga. Gripping! Only, you know, one-handed.

The Star Wars Blooper Guide

Every mistake, blown line, mismatched shot, or technical inaccuracy you could imagine. Probably more, actually, since you probably had something better to do with your time. OK, probably not, but you still would have missed some. This site didn't.

Star Wars Caught on Tape

Do you remember the Donnie and Marie "Star Wars" tribute? For that matter, do you remember Donnie and Marie? "Star Wars" characters appeared in several popular TV shows, including a Bob Hope Christmas Special and The Muppet Show, but one of the most appallin… um, appealing bits was this one. Kris Kristopherson as a sleazy Han Solo, Redd Foxx as Okey Ben Pinocchi, and the late Paul Lynde as a Grand Moff knockoff. This is one you'll seek therapy to work through.

Kevin Smith movies

Scratch away the profanity, drug references, and slacker generation wisdom of Kevin Smith's Jersey movies ("Clerks," "Chasing Amy," "Dogma," Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back," "Clerks II") and you'll find a man who was inspired, hard, over the head, by "Star Wars." From Dante and Randall's discussion of innocent construction workers on the Death Star to Silent Bob's Jedi aspirations and Jay's head shop light saber, Smith peppers his works with more "Star Wars" references than Lucas does. Or, as the director in "Jay and Silent Bob" (played by Chris Rock) said, "George Lucas gonna sue somebody!" Thankfully, he hasn't. So far.

Bizarre toys

Personally I feel that the entire run of movies, books, fans, and entire "Star Wars" culture has all led up to this: The Mr. Potato Head Darth Tater. A more menacing-looking spud I have never seen, and I'm proud to have him at my desk glaring at coworkers and doing that mental death grip thing on passersby. But even he pales next to the Darth Vader Lawn Sprinkler that features "multiple spraying action" and a stream of water from his light saber. Take that, dry grass! I'm not sure how horrific an evil being can be if it can be cleaned with a damp cloth, though, and even he pales next to the Jar Jar Binks Monster Mouth Tongue Candy. Your child — the child you love dearly and hope will grow up with as few neuroses as possible — is supposed to eat candy shaped and textured like a tongue out of the plastic head of Jar Jar Binks. I can't even start to tell you how wrong that is.

The Star Wars Holiday Special

I saved the best (?) for last, since this one was official. In November of '78, in what I can only assume was an to stave off some of the unconditional love and acclaim he'd been receiving from the world, Lucas signed off on this hideous monstrosity. Imagine, if you will: two hours of singing, Art Carney, awkward comedy, Bea Arthur, Wookiee family life, interpretive dance, Harvey Korman, and the original cast plus Boba Fett in his first appearance, which suggests that his eventual fate of being slowly digested over a thousand years in the belly of the Sarlacc in "Return of the Jedi" was a long-desired blessing.

So remember this day and keep it forceful. And remember where your towel is.

The original Star Wars trilogy has been reworked into a thrilling 1 and a half minute silent movie (complete with musical soundtrack) that is, frankly, more entertaining than the last three. It needs some soulful staring from the romantic leads, but for all I know those might be in the six minute director's cut.

While you're in the mood, check out fellow silent-movie fans Team Tiger Awesome's growing collection of newly classic silent films, such as "Die Hard: The Ballad of John McClane," "Top Gun: A Requiem For Goose," and "Dirty Dancing: The Corner'ingation of Baby." (May be some questionable language).

Welcome to the world of fan fiction.

It's a lot larger than you might think. There are literally thousands of stories available online using people and settings from every fictional universe imaginable, especially ones with multi-layered characters and rich backgrounds that just beg for more tales to be told. Harry Potter is a huge target for re-imagining, of course, and Xena and Buffy and Star Trek, but even "Picket Fences" has its group of dedicated rewriters.

Want to write about Dumbledore's student days, or Jayne and Inara's wild affair, or what would happen if Catherine lived and married Heathcliff and they went off to fight crime? Go for it, you'll find a ready audience waiting for you. Some fan fiction is incredibly good, rivaling (and occasionally bettering) the original source. With some exceptions, the original creators generally let these copyright infringements slide as long as no one does anything stupid.

Which brings us to Lori Jareo, and "Another Hope."

Some time ago Lori Jareo decided to rewrite "A New Hope" (the first in the Star Wars movie series, the fourth in chronological order) to include information added since the creation of the three prequels. She also took the opportunity to jazz things up a bit; she kills off Luke, Ben, and the droids on page 115 and the Death Star is destroyed in a remarkably undramatic manner by Biggs, Princess Leia, and her gutsy cousin Ryoo who works in the Death Star, has Anakin's light saber, and is an all-around wonderful person. So far, well within fan fiction parameters.

And it's physically painful to read, like a 20-lb technical manual dipped in bad dialogue. There are so many long, descriptive passages of tedious technological minutiae I kept expecting a warranty card for the Death Star to fall out. This is also well within the umbrella of fan fiction, where cheesy writing is more or less the base state. But that just makes it a bad book.

What made it noteworthy for the masses of delighted, horrified people following along last weekend like spectators at a scheduled train wreck was that she published it. And priced it at $20. And it showed up on Amazon, among other places. And it includes big chunks of dialogue taken verbatim from the movie. And Ms. Jareo has a degree in journalism. And she is herself a co-founder and editor of the company that published the book. And her author interview made it clear that she didn't think anything was wrong with that:

"Q: Having set Another Hope in an already existing universe, I find myself wondering if there was any concern on your part regarding copyrights?

"No, because I wrote this book for myself. This is a self-published story and is not a commercial book. Yes, it is for sale on Amazon, but only my family, friends and acquaintances know it's there."

After it was pointed out by writer Lee Goldberg and spread around by a growing network of bloggers it became very obvious that Ms. Jareo's intimate circle of friends, family, and acquaintances was about to include the entire LucasArts legal team. Reading the assorted posts this weekend was like standing amongst a crowd of people watching a swimmer cheerfully strap on raw meat before diving into the shark tank.

Bets were taken as to precisely which geological era she'd be sued back to. Reviews were posted to the Amazon page concerning her mental capacity and how long the book would remain for sale. Star Wars novel writer Karen Traviss immortalized Ms. Jareo by creating a new word in an alien language: jareor, meaning "risk your own life senselessly by p—ing off a dangerous and heavily armed adversary, e.g. Boba Fett, Lucasfilm legal team."

But the group most outraged by this, probably even more so than Lucas' legal staff, was the fan fiction community. When you know that what you love doing is, at best, tolerated by creators you respect who can make you stop at any time, you get very annoyed when someone walks to those creators and slaps them with the literary equivalent of a wet fish. All it would take is for enough authors to start yelling: "That's it, everyone out of the pool," and the online world of fan fiction would fade away.

And that's why I'm writing this, as a message to fanfic writers everywhere: Relax. Fanfic will never die.

Fanfic will always be around. It's been around since people retold stories by campfires; it's been around since Shakespeare rewrote old legends and histories into new plays; it's been around since people wrote their own Sherlock Holmes stories. At worst, it'll go underground again and you'll have to mail them to each other like you did back in the '70s when fan fiction was the only thing keeping Star Trek alive.

And eventually your favorite movie or book will fall into public domain and you can rewrite it all you want into a smash-hit Broadway musical (Gregory Maguire's "Wicked," a reworked "Wizard of Oz") or a Pulitzer-prize-winning book (Geraldine Brooks' "March," about a minor character from Louisa May Alcott's classic 'Little Women').

So far Ms. Lareo has been asked to pull her book, she has, and it may end there. But even if the lawyer ships come screaming out of Skywalker ranch and fly up her thermal exhaust port, you can still write your stories. You could even write about a clueless fanfic writer who came up behind Darth Vader and gave him a wedgie, and what happened next.

Just don't sell it.

***

Planned Parenthood recently filed lawsuits over "Choose Life" license plates, claiming that offering only one side of an issue was a violation of First Amendment rights. South Carolina State Rep. John Graham Altman, probably only half joking, suggested that "Choose Death" license plates be issued as an alternative. Now, there's no way I'm jumping in the middle of this particular hot button controversy, but you know what?

I really, really want a "Choose Death" license plate.

Not to express any specific philosophical views, but because it's just vague and unsettling enough that people would give me plenty of room on the highway for fear I might suddenly make my choice on the I-95 overpass.

***

Why doesn't anyone use the word "android" anymore?

***

Why am I seeing more television show and video game commercials at movie theaters? Is it really in the movie studio's best interest to remind me that I could be enjoying myself at home? With better popcorn?

***

Can we get a series of pocket size guides that tell you exactly what foods taste like, so you don't have to guess from the cryptic menu descriptions? I don't want the nutritional content or calorie counts, I want to know what I'm about to bite into and how far I should spit it afterwards.

"What the Heck Am I Eating? (Chinese)" might include "Soy sauce: tastes like liquid salt, with a smoky flavor" and handy tips, such as what that weird green stuff is and exactly which part of the duck that duck sauce comes from. Other variants could include "What the Heck Am I Eating? (Mexican)" and so on for Tex-Mex, Southern BBQ, Roadside Diner ("On the Go Chicken Sandwich: contains no actual meat so it's vegetarian-friendly, if anything that tastes like a shoe insert on watery white bread can be considered friendly to anyone"), Frozen Dinners, etc. They'd sell.

***

Getting a nagging song out of your head really isn't that difficult if you have a brick.

***

When you go to see "Revenge of the Sith," again, don't bother trying to follow the plot or the character motivations. Focus instead on what the movie was clearly all about, what Lucas obviously prizes over all else.

Ships.

Ships landing. Ships taking off. Ships flying past other ships. Ships entering orbit. Ships leaving orbit. Ships filling the background of every scene like flies in the Everglades. Fully 20 minutes of the movie, minutes that would otherwise have been totally wasted on character development, were used to show every single departure and every single arrival of every single character in a ship.

Watching one scene when Anakin gets out of bed and goes to a different room, I was honestly shocked he didn't climb out the window into a ship to do it. Followed, of course, by Padme in her nightgown, and a different ship, and possibly a chase scene.

***

It is so much easier, and almost as worthwhile, to skip all the security hassles and police problems and just stalk celebrity look-alikes instead.

***

If drivers' licenses are supposed to help authorities identify you, shouldn't they be pictures of you looking guilty? Maybe running away, looking back over your shoulder? Or through an open car window, looking panicky and drunk?

Personally I think the general self-esteem of people in this country started going down after photo IDs become prevalent and everyone began carrying around a picture of themselves looking like a screenshot from "America's Most Wanted." I think the DMV should hire a glamour photographer so that for a small upcharge you could get an ID you'd be proud to whip out. More money for the state, and the benefit to the national psyche would be immeasurable.

***

Hotel heiress Paris Hilton is now reportedly engaged to shipping heir Paris Latsis. I'm trying to care, I really am, but it's just not working. So, how should we in the sensationalistic media refer to them now? Parises? Paris squared? Parii?

***

Enough for now, I need something to think about on the way home. Hmm. A pair of Paris? Would their kids be Parisites?

Ships.

Ships landing. Ships taking off. Ships flying past other ships. Ships filling the background like flies in the Everglades. Fully twenty minutes of the movie, minutes that would otherwise have been completely wasted on character development, were used to show every single departure and arrival of every character in a different ship.

When Anakin gets up and goes to a different room, I was honestly shocked he didn't climb into a ship to do it. Followed, of course, by Padme in her nightgown and a different ship.

Ehh.

Before I start ranting, let me say that overall I like the story arc of the prequel trilogy. It makes sense. It's an excellent description of a too-powerful, too-convoluted government getting scammed and ultimately taken over by another force. The schemes to undermine the Jedis' authority, the plots to completely hornswaggle the Senate, the carefully-timed steps that led inevitably to the overthrow of the Republic and the emergence of the Empire — all worked for me.

The characters, as characters, work just fine. Slave boy becomes Jedi, pupil becomes master, there is love and devotion and betrayal and loyalty and lies.

And, it must be said, that if we're talking visual effects and blow-you-away action scenes, this is by far the best of all six movies.

That said, here's what bugged me. Big, big spoilers ahead.

Did everyone in this movie sign a no-emotion clause?

Fun opening battle, although Joss Whedon has ruined me for any science fiction movie with sound in space. I had to admit I was laughing at the "droid-scraping" scenes in the ships. Not because it was intended to lighten the mood, which it probably was, but because a) it was so stupid, and b) I love how, while flying through a hideously complicated battle going on all around them, Jedis can still look around and chat amiably, and c) at their rate of speed, by the time they finished diddling with the droids they should have been two planets over.

Cool Count Dooku fight. Kind of a quick ending for him though. Hey, Ani, your mentor just got crushed, shouldn't you be… oh, he's fine. The metric tons of rubble that visibly crushed his legs left no ill effects.

R2D2 kicks ass! Which, really, makes his actions in the original trilogy seem pretty lame. Thanks, George.

Liked the bubble symphony scene.

Are we supposed to know what all the fighting is for? We cut back and forth from epic battles to people siting casually around a room, seemingly unconcerned.

If Anakin and Padme are that serious about keeping their relationship secret they probably shouldn't make out on the steps of the Senate.

No one noticed she was getting fat? No one asked? Or is that why she never left that room? Or was she fogged over by whatever hormones changed her from an ass-kicking princess (which redeemed her for me somewhat in the last two movies) to stay-at-home mom who spends her days sitting on long couches and doing the weepy helpless heroine thing.

Is it just me, or did Yoda have more expression when he was a muppet? He must have learned grammar whle hiding on Dagobah, he didn't use the reverse wording in every single sentence then. Although he does change from a dignified Jedi master to a grubby little food-thief. People change.

If you lived in the Star Wars universe, would you ever walk out on those balconies and ship pads? They're freaking 60 stories up, no railings in sight, ever. No wonder people are used to hanging by their fingertips off precipices so often in these movies, they face that danger every time they go to the car.

What do the normal, i.e. less privileged, non-Forceful citizens of the Republic think of all this? Do they care? Have they noticed?

If Yoda is almost 900 years old, shouldn't he be more suspicious of people, even other Jedis? He's seen them turn bad before, yes?

Is Palpatine hinting he's Anakin's father? He talked about the power to create life from midicholians, and all but said he was the apprentice that killed the other Darth in his sleep. OK, hands up Star Wars people: is anyone here not someone else's unsuspected father? Anyone?

I might be a little fuzzy here, but didn't Obi-Wan refer to Palpatine as the Emperor before he knew palpatine had taken control?

I thought Obi-wan was the rational one. So why drop down in the middle of a roomful of armed foes? And why didn't they shoot him, anyway?

Grievous' internal organs looked awfully organic for something that scrambles through space unprotected.

Wow, Jedis die easy.

Mace Windu died a fake punk death. What a complete waste of Samuel L. Jackson.

I can accept Anakin turning to the dark side to save Padme, especially after the Jedi Council stiffs him. But that little aceptance cermony? My kid puts more emotion into choosing piza toppings.

Kid killing! Yay! A tear rolling down Anakin's face would have been a nice touch here, marking this as the official "Point of No Return" mark of his downward slide, but that would have implied emotion so no chance.

Wow, Jedis really do die easy.

I never knew 9-month pregnant women could run so easily, especially down the ramp of a ship. The choking bit was a nice touch, though.

Definitely liked the offer to Padme to rule the universe. Nice tie-in, made sense, helped clue her in. Also liked the weird litle jealousy thing about Obi-Wan, which would have been even better if thoughts like that had ever been mentioned by Anakin at any point beforehand, ever.

Apparently Jedis don't feel heat, like from lava a foot or so away. Or else the Force can be used as an anti-perspirent.

Also apparently Padme came to term without ever seeing a doctor. Doctors these days don't generally miss twins, I doubt the Republic doctors would have.

She lost the will to live? She died because she lost the will to live? A woman who effectively runs a planet, who has fought for her people through diplomacy and revolution and war, who now has two newborn babies, just gave up? Please. This is also one of those Hollywood ailments where women during fatal labor look stunning despite the requisite damp forehead.

So Luke and Leia were born just before Padme died? Huh. So, when Leia tells Luke in "Return" that she has vague memories of her real mother, she must really be reaching back.

And you'd think that Kenobi would have warned Luke about dating Leia at some point. "Can't tell you why, Luke, but don't diddle the princess. Trust me."

Liked the simultaneous births of Luke, Leia, and Vader. Maybe Vader's new robot legs and arm explain why he can't do any of the cool ninja moves in the next three movies?

Even when it's James Earl Jones doing it, shaking your fist at the sky and screaming "Noooo!" just looks stupid.

Cool, Qui-gon might be showing up around Obi-Wan in a glowing Jedi body. I like how that was whipped in there out of nowhere, I guess to foreshadow Ben's later appearances to Luke. Too bad Qui-gon couldn't have figured it out a few days earlier and maybe given everyone a heads-up.

C3PO gets his mind wiped, knew that was going to happen. But not R2? And he gets to keep his jet packs? How come he had so much trouble on Tatooine later, then? Or does that have something to do with why he doesn't bounce out of ships like a superball anymore?

Wow, the Death Star took forever to build. I'll bet it was getting the permits, that always hangs me up.

So how did it take Vader so long to figure out that Luke was his son when he came from the same home planet, had the Force about him, looked like him (pre-scars), and had the same last name?

Enough for now. It was fun to watch and easily worth the free pass. If you're gong to see it, see it in the theater and make the most of the visual feast. Just dont think too hard about it.

The third and final "Star Wars" prequel is slinking toward a theater near you. And, like many other fans of the "Star Wars" sagas, I have been experiencing a familiar feeling of anticipatory dread, the certain knowledge that I'm about to go willingly into a painful and uncomfortable experience.

"Star Wars," you see, is like an ex-girlfriend.

Not just any ex-girlfriend, mind you. One of the psycho ones that swings by every few years to break into your house, wreck your car, and tear out your heart. The one your friends call you about when they see her on the news.

Things were great when we met a long, long time ago, back in '77. There was fun, there was excitement, there was galaxy-wide revolution. She filled my life even as little plastic figures filled my room. Our love was pure, and not a little obsessive.

But she changed. Things got weird. She was going through some rough times, what with the constant fighting and that whole evil genocidal father thing, and a lopped off hand here and there, but I stuck with her anyway even when she went all frigid and carbomited.

Ultimately I had to break it off. She went a little crazy, muttering about bounty hunters, brothers and sisters that weren't before, and a forest full of obnoxious dancing stuffed animals. She changed. The magic wasn't there anymore. There was cheating, and confusion, and plot holes. She didn't have the same priorities or the same target demographic. I still kept a lot of her stuff – like in any good breakup, I kept the videos — but it was over.

After time had gone by she came back as a special edition and we got together for old times sake. She looked good (she'd had work done) but something was still off. She'd changed her story, told things differently than how I remembered them happening. Who approached whom, whose idea it was to break up, who shot first. I smiled and made polite noises but I left as soon as I could to go watch some more "Star Trek."

Then, a few years ago, she popped back up in my life. She'd been pumped, gotten implants, gotten tucked and made up and Dolby digitized until I barely recognized her anymore. Millions of us, besotted with the memories of her prime, lined up to see what turned out to be bizarrely disappointing. She was raving about midichloridians and slave boy Jedis and stupid alien accents and an elected queen and other nonsense, and I figured that, like every other ex, she only came back when she was broke and desperately needed $431 million domestic. We parted uncomfortably.

And then she came back again, and again I fell for her enticing promises and her anamorphic widescreen come-ons. All of us did. She's a heartbreaker, is "Star Wars." She knows just how to get your hopes up no matter how many times you've been burned before, no matter how many times you've sworn "never again." I have taken that oath, even as I got the DVD sets and watched the trailers and bought the new toys. There's only so much of this I can take.

And yet, some part of me still wants to be fooled. Somewhere deep inside, there's a part of me that thinks I can recapture the magic, that thinks that maybe, if we worked hard enough we could make this relationship work.

This is not, however, why I'll be at the Ocean Walk theater tonight, helping judge a "Star Wars" costume contest. No, I'm doing that because, hey, who could pass up a chance to professionally gawk at people in funny costumes for an hour and a half?

But it is why I'll stay for the movie. A new hope springs eternal, love makes you do crazy things, and the lava pit fight scene looks wicked cool.

Still, I've got a bad feeling about this…

And you thought you'd never hear anyone say the words "worse than Catwoman" ever again.

In the latest publicity stunt by NASCAR and Warner Brothers, the June 19 NASCAR Nextel Cup race at Michigan International Speedway will be the "Batman Begins 400," in honor of the upcoming new Batman movie named, of course, "Begins 400." The movie's Batmobile — which is supposed to be a menacing assault vehicle but comes off as a really big RC car — will be on hand to do a lap, and Mark Martin's No. 6 Ford Taurus will be sporting a nifty Bat signal on the hood. I'm not quite getting whatever point this is supposed to make, other than "please go see the movie, please please please."

This is because Hollywood understands that no one ever decides to see a movie because of the writing, the director, or the stars. No, we need spectacle and blatant pandering directed right at our frontal lobes every second of our waking lives if we are to lift our butts away from our DVRs and pull our heads out of our iPods. The little Burger King toys just aren't cutting it anymore.

Posters, action figures, a novelization? That's nothing, Super Bowl commercials get those now. If you don't have a movie tie-in Xbox game, your own Visa card, and an abruptly renamed municipal stadium your movie will immediately get tagged as an art film and sent off to win an award at Sundance, clear $8 million domestically and die a miserable death in Blockbuster only to resurface occasionally as the answer in Trivial Pursuit that no one ever gets.

In the not-too-distant future — say, June — everything you buy, from groceries to furniture to replacement kidneys, will sport the name of a blockbuster movie on it somewhere.

The evil empire of movie marketing is, of course, Star Wars. LucasArts knows instinctively that fans want to own their own body weight in action figures, drink Darth Dew Slurpees and eat Star Wars Cheetos (in Yoda Green or Darth Vader black) or M&Ms (in milk chocolate "Jedi" or dark chocolate "M-Pire" forms) as they gulp Yoda cereal out of their R2D2 bowl with their light-up "Saber Spoons" whenever they're not talking on their Cingular Star Wars phones while slashing on their Star Wars skateboards on the way to stand in line for the actual movie, which seems almost incidental by this point. It's no coincidence that gas prices skyrocketed just as the "Revenge of the Sith" marketing got into gear; the world's supply of plastic was suddenly drained.

(Although I do like "Darth Tater," the Star Wars version of Mr. Potato Head. For some reason the notion of a brutal, genocidal monster in spud form appeals to me. You couldn't get away with this kind of thing with saintly characters, which is why the "Passion of the Christ" Pez Dispenser never got past the design stage. Also, this means that Luke and Leia are, now and forever, Vader Tots.)

Frankly, were I the marketing director at Warner Brothers I'd be having second thoughts about the "Batman Begins 400." What happens if the Batmobile can't handle the frontstretch? What if there's a wreck during the race and the Batman car pinwheels over the stands and roars flaming, sideways, into the newly redesigned AAA Motorsports Fan Plaza? Will that hurt the box office? Or help it?

Really, it would make a lot more sense if another driver, and here I think we're all picturing Tony Stewart, was driving the Joker car right behind Martin. Wouldn't that be cool? Just driving around the track is boring and far too simple for the Caped CrusaderTM to bother with. But give the Joker car some side-mounted machine guns and a flamethrower and suddenly it makes sense.

Shallow marketing ploy or not, if there's a chance to see a Boston cream pie hit the windshield of the Batmobile at 180.911 m.p.h., I'll be there.

Me and Darth Tater.