Who I choose is my choice

via hangedwoman:

lostncove talks about families here . And I mean family, not genetics.

What I want from my dystopic police state

A maniacal dictator who looks cool. A mask and cloak, perhaps, or a cowled robe. Stylish yet functional body armor. Black leather. A holocaust cloak. A really pimp suit... Anything.

A cool-looking brute squad. Armour, shiny boots...

Aesthetically pleasing urban decay. Not this nasty grimy urban sprawl of highways and strip malls. I want crumbling brick and mortar, dark and brooding alleys, stylishly tattered waifs in fingerless gloves.

A decadent and depraved elite, jaded by wealth and knowledge. Again, style matters.

An insidious yet easily recognizable telepathic secret service. Possibly headed by Walter Koenig.

Rutger Hauer!

*Ving Rhames

(no subject)

Yoda Goes Nuts is so much better than the actual script for Ep III.

Padmé: "I did a lot of endurance training. Is it true that you can turn the power down on a lightsaber, so instead of cutting is just feels warm and tingly?"

Obi-Wan: "Well, yes, but what... (understanding dawns) ...Oh!"

Padmé: "Uh-huh... c'mon baby, let's stretch out with our feelings..."

I've gotta write my space opera one of these days...