Luke+Leia are the Same Person

Luke Skywalker CANNOT Defeat The Emperor.

Luke+Leia CAN - Because They are the SAME PERSON.

Two Bodies, One Soul.

The Annals of The Star Wars : A Saga in Three Movements

There is No Civility, Only Politics.

Act I - Episodes I - III

The Outer-Rim Free-Trade Skirmishing 

and 

The Clone Wars :

What Will You Fight to Defend,..?

General Themes :

Decline and Fall

Decadence

Corrupt Institutions

 Moral Relativism

A Dying Chivalry in the Process of Going Extinct.

A War Fought Between of Two Armies of Slaves

Civilisation Collapse

Particular Characteristics :

Apprenticeships

Slavery of Every Kind :

Enslavement of Humans The Outer Rim

Subjection of Droids in the Confederacy of Independent Systems

Subjugation of Clones in The Galactic Republic

Not to mention Economic Enslavement of peoples such as The Naboo, and Racial Caste Segregation of Races such as the Gungans and Toydarians.

Private Taxation, Protectionism and Trade Embargoes

Fear Will Keep the Outlying Systems in Line - Fear of This Battle Station.

Act II - Episodes IV - VI

The Rebellion Against The Empire :

What Will You Fight to Defeat..?

General Themes :

New Galactic Order

Tyranny + Rebellion

Underworld Gangsterism + Piracy + Black Markets 

Institutional Speciesism - The State is a Homo Sapiens-only Club

Particular Characteristics :

Act III - Episodes VII - IX

The Fight for The Future :

What Will You Fight For..?

 This One is a Lot Harder... 

General Themes :

 Awakenings - a Galactic Rennaisance

General Ignorance of History - Even the History of Events in Living Memory.

Failure to Heed the Errors of Past Mistakes and Learn The Lessons of History

 Paper Tigers and False Prophets

Personal Responsibilty

Single Points of Failure

Particular Characteristics :

Mentors

Defectors

Snitches

Armies of Free Men

The Founding of Great Nations

Massive Upskilling of The Rank and File Soldiery

Educational Indoctrination Fixated on Treason and Treachery

The Whole Galaxy is of One Tongue.

My Father Said it Would be Fire.

Fire consumes all. Water cleanses. 
It separates The Foul from The Pure. 
The Wicked from The Innocent. 


And That Which Sinks 
from That Which Rises. 

Noah, The Chosen One : 

Grandfather?

Luke Skywalker, The Old Man of The Mountain :

Noah.

Noah, The Chosen One :

This is your great-grandfather.

Show him respect.

Tell him your name.


Shem, The Future :

I am Shem.

My eldest.

Luke Skywalker, The Old Man of The Mountain :

Come closer.

Let me see you. You're a lucky boy.

I think you must have Your Mother's looks, not Your Father's.
*wink*
Come tell me about yourself.

So, what do you like most in The World?

Shem, The Future :

Berries.

Luke Skywalker, The Old Man of The Mountain :

What?

Shem, The Future :

Berries.

Luke Skywalker, The Old Man of The Mountain :

Berries, yes.

What can compete with fresh, ripe berries? Nothing.

Yes, it's been so long I can barely remember the taste of them.

Tell me, did you bring me any?

No?

I'm craving them now.

Well, perhaps one day.

You must be tired.

It's a long way up here.

Shem, The Future : 

Yeah.

Luke Skywalker, The Old Man of The Mountain :

Why not rest?

How perfect.

What we need to discuss is not for boys.

Noah, The Chosen One : 

You know why I've come?

Luke Skywalker, The Old Man of The Mountain :

Yes.

Before he walked on, my father Enoch told me that one day, if man continued in his ways, The Creator would annihilate This World.

Noah, The Chosen One :

So what I saw is True?

All life blotted out because of what Man has done?

Can it not be averted?

Luke Skywalker, The Old Man of The Mountain :

Noah, you must trust that He speaks in a way that you can understand.

So you tell me - 

Can this destruction be averted?

Noah, The Chosen One :

No.

He sent me here.

Why send me if there's nothing I can do to stop it?

Luke Skywalker, The Old Man of The Mountain :

Well, perhaps He simply sends you here to share a cup of tea with an old man.

Luke Skywalker, The Old Man of The Mountain :

So, is that all you saw?

The Fires of destruction on this place?

Noah :

No, not Fire.

Water.

Luke Skywalker, The Old Man of The Mountain :

Water?

My Father said it would be Fire.

Noah, The Chosen One :

I saw water. Death by water.

I saw Death.

And I saw new life.

There's something more, Grandfather.

Something I'm to do. I know it.

I just didn't see what it was.

New life.

Luke Skywalker, The Old Man of The Mountain :

Well, perhaps there is more for you to see.

Did He not send you here to drink a cup of tea with an old man?

The Medicine Always Tastes Bad.

Luke Skywalker, The Old Man of The Mountain :

She was the only one moving.

Was she hurt badly?

Shem, The Future :

She had a big cut on her belly.

Mother helped and I held her hand.

Luke Skywalker, The Old Man of The Mountain :

That must have made her feel safe.

Well?

Noah, The Chosen One :

Fire consumes all.

Water cleanses.

It separates The Foul from The Pure.

The Wicked from The Innocent.

And That Which Sinks from That Which Rises.

He destroys all, but only to start again.

Luke Skywalker, The Old Man of The Mountain :

You sure?

Noah, The Chosen One :

Yes.

The Storm cannot be stopped.

But it can be survived.

Luke Skywalker, The Old Man of The Mountain :

Yes.

You may need this.

It's a seed.

From The First Garden.

From Eden.

Remember, Noah,

He chose you for a reason.

I Resign.

I Resign.

You can't resign — it's physically and ontologically not-possible.

The lonelier you are, the more you're joined together with 

everything else. "

 

 
"...that idea of The Far-Off Man, way, way out there,  but what does The Hermit tell us...?
 
If you try this get as lonely as you can get, you become visibly aware which you can't get away from it, because when you get very lonely very fast you become extremely thin and everything that goes on is or now ordinarily unnoticed cum spiritum 
 

First of all, you will find that there is a  Community of Insects.
And they are tremendously interested in You, and not necessarily hostile, in maybe some cases they are so.

But alone in The Forest, when you get really quiet, you'll notice little creatures will come and inspect you look you all over an
they'll go away and tell their friends and they'll come and look to see what it is and you become aware of every single sound and you realize that alone you're in the midst of a vast burning crowd 

- it may not be human but it's everything else - 

so that the the point of being, The Discipline leads you to understand that   

You can't Resign

The lonelier you are, the more you're joined together with everything else. "

" Look at it - from another point of view, supposing I say everybody's playing the game Me First  - now, I'm going to play the game You First, to use the phrase of Bonhoeffer who called Jesus The Man for Others - now, let's see if we could play that game instead of 
Me First, 

You First 

Or,

"I'm the one see who's so generous I'm the one who's so loving so self-effacing and all you insolent brats ...."  

- Alan Watts

" This controversial play follows the declining fortunes of a man of extravagant contradictions.  

The fabulously rich Timon believes all his friends to be as open-hearted and generous as himself. When his wealth suddenly evaporates, however, he discovers the truth and his altruism turns to a bitter hatred of mankind. Stirred up by the cynical Apemantus, Timon retreats to the woods where he plots the destruction of Athens, the city that had formerly seemed to embody everything pleasurable and civilized. The cosmic scope of his hatred is communicated in a series of powerful and disturbing dramatic tableaux. 

The Curse :

SCENE I. Without the walls of Athens.

Enter TIMON

TIMON

Let me look back upon thee. O thou wall, That girdlest in those wolves, dive in the earth, And fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent! Obedience fail in children! slaves and fools, Pluck the grave wrinkled senate from the bench, And minister in their steads! to general filths Convert o' the instant, green virginity, Do 't in your parents' eyes! bankrupts, hold fast; Rather than render back, out with your knives, And cut your trusters' throats! bound servants, steal! Large-handed robbers your grave masters are, And pill by law. Maid, to thy master's bed; Thy mistress is o' the brothel! Son of sixteen, pluck the lined crutch from thy old limping sire, With it beat out his brains! Piety, and fear, Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth, Domestic awe, night-rest, and neighbourhood, Instruction, manners, mysteries, and trades, Degrees, observances, customs, and laws, Decline to your confounding contraries, And let confusion live! Plagues, incident to men, Your potent and infectious fevers heap On Athens, ripe for stroke! Thou cold sciatica, Cripple our senators, that their limbs may halt As lamely as their manners. Lust and liberty Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth, That 'gainst the stream of virtue they may strive, And drown themselves in riot! Itches, blains, Sow all the Athenian bosoms; and their crop Be general leprosy! Breath infect breath, at their society, as their friendship, may merely poison! Nothing I'll bear from thee, But nakedness, thou detestable town! Take thou that too, with multiplying bans! Timon will to the woods; where he shall find The unkindest beast more kinder than mankind. The gods confound--hear me, you good gods all-- The Athenians both within and out that wall! And grant, as Timon grows, his hate may grow To the whole race of mankind, high and low! Amen.

Exit

Colonel: (Graham Chapman) Now, I've noticed a tendency for this program to get rather silly. Now I do my best to keep things moving along, but I'm not having things getting silly. Those last two sketches I did got very silly indeed. And that last one about the beds was even sillier. Now, nobody likes a good laugh more than I do, except perhaps my wife and some of her friends. Oh yes, and Captain Johnson. Come to think of it, most people like a good laugh more than I do, but that's beside the point. Now, let's have a good, clean, healthy outdoor sketch. Get some air into your lungs. Ten, nine, eight and all that...

(Cut to two hermits on a hillside.)

Colonel: Ahhh yes, that's better. Now let's hope this doesn't get silly.

First Hermit: (Michael Palin) Hello, are you a hermit by any chance?

Second Hermit: (Eric Idle) Yes that's right. Are you a hermit?

First Hermit: Yes, I certainly am.

Second Hermit: Well I never. What are you getting away from?

First Hermit: Oh you know, the usual - people, chat, gossip, you know.

Second Hermit: Oh I certainly do, it was the same with me. I mean there comes a time when you realize there's no good frittering your life away in idleness and trivial chit-chat. Where's your cave?

First Hermit: Oh, up the goat track, first on the left.

Second Hermit: Oh they're very nice up there, aren't they?

First Hermit: Yes they are, I've got a beauty.

Second Hermit: A bit drafty though, aren't they?

First Hermit: No, we've had ours insulated.

Second Hermit: Oh yes?

First Hermit: Yes, I used birds nests, moss and oak leaves round the outside.

Second Hermit: Oh, sounds marvellous.

First Hermit: Oh it's a treat, it really is, 'cause otherwise those stone caves can be so grim.

Second Hermit: Yes they really can be, can't they? They really can.

First Hermit: Oh yes.

(Third hermit passes by.)

Third Hermit: Morning Frank.

Second Hermit: Morning Norman. Talking of moss, er you know Mr. Robinson?

First Hermit: With the, er, green loin cloth?

Second Hermit: Er no, that's Mr. Seagrave. Mr. Robinson's the hermit who lodges with Mr. Seagrave.

First Hermit: Oh I see, yes.

Second Hermit: Yes well he's put me onto wattles.

First Hermit: Really?

Second Hermit: Yes. Swears by them. Yes.

(Fourth hermit passes)

Fourth Hermit: Morning Frank.

Second Hermit: Morning Lionel. Well he says that moss tends to fall off the cave walls during cold weather. You know you might get a really bad spell and half the moss drops off the cave wall, leaving you cold.

First Hermit: Oh well, Mr. Robinson's cave's never been exactly nirvana has it?

Second Hermit: Well, quite, that's what I mean. Anyway, Mr. Rogers, he's the, er, hermit...

First Hermit: ... on the end.

Second Hermit: . .. up at the top, yes. Well he tried wattles and he came out in a rash.

First Hemit: Really?

Second Hermit: Yes, and there's me with half a wall wattled, I mean what'll I do?

First Hermit: Well why don't you try birds nests like I've done? Or else, dead bracken.

Fifth Hermit: (calling from a distance) Frank!

Second Hermit: Yes Han?

Fifth Hermit: Can I borrow your goat?

Second Hermit: Er, yes that'll be all right. Oh leave me a pint for breakfast will you? (to first hermit) You see, you know that is the trouble with living half way up a cliff, you feel so cut off. You know it takes me two hours every morning to get out onto the moors, collect my berries, chastise myself, and two hours back in the evening.

First Hermit: Still there's one thing about being a hermit, at least you meet people.

Second Hermit: Oh yes, I wouldn't go back to public relations.

First Hemit: Oh well, bye for now Frank, must toddle.

Colonel: Right, you two hermits, stop that sketch. I think it's silly.

Second Hermit: What?

Colonel: It's silly.

Second Hermit What do you mean, you can't stop it - it's on film.

Colonel: That doesn't make any difference to the viewer at home, does it? Come on, get out. Out. Come on out, all of you. Get off, go on, all of you. Go on, move, move. Go on, get out. Come on, get out, move, move.

(He shoos them and the film crew off the hillside.)

I've 

Resigned.

I Will Not Be Pushed, 

Stamped, 

Filed, 

Indexed, 

Briefed, 

De-Briefed, 

OR 

NUMBERED!!

My Life is My Own.

[ Oh, No it Isn't, Chum.... ]

Zarathustra went down the mountain alone, no one meeting him. 

When he entered the forest, however, there suddenly stood before him an old man, who had left his holy cot to seek roots. 

And thus spake the old man to Zarathustra: “No stranger to me is this wanderer: many years ago passed he by. Zarathustra he was called; but he hath altered. Then thou carriedst thine ashes into the mountains: wilt thou now carry thy fire into the valleys? Fearest thou not the incendiary’s doom? Yea, I recognise Zarathustra. Pure is his eye, and no loathing lurketh about his mouth. Goeth he not along like a dancer? Altered is Zarathustra; a child hath Zarathustra become; an awakened one is Zarathustra: what wilt thou do in the land of the sleepers? As in the sea hast thou lived in solitude, and it hath borne thee up. Alas, wilt thou now go ashore? Alas, wilt thou again drag thy body thyself?” 

Zarathustra answered: “I love mankind.” 

“Why,” said the saint, “did I go into the forest and the desert? Was it not because I loved men far too well? Now I love God: men, I do not love. Man is a thing too imperfect for me. Love to man would be fatal to me.” 

Zarathustra answered: “What spake I of love! I am bringing gifts unto men.” 

“Give them nothing,” said the saint. “Take rather part of their load, and carry it along with them—that will be most agreeable unto them: if only it be agreeable unto thee! If, however, thou wilt give unto them, give them no more than an alms, and let them also beg for it!” 

“No,” replied Zarathustra, “I give no alms. I am not poor enough for that.”

 The saint laughed at Zarathustra, and spake thus: “Then see to it that they accept thy treasures! They are distrustful of anchorites, and do not believe that we come with gifts. The fall of our footsteps ringeth too hollow through their streets. And just as at night, when they are in bed and hear a man abroad long before sunrise, so they ask themselves concerning us: Where goeth the thief? Go not to men, but stay in the forest! Go rather to the animals! Why not be like me—a bear amongst bears, a bird amongst birds?” 

“And what doeth the saint in the forest?” asked Zarathustra. 

The saint answered: “I make hymns and sing them; and in making hymns I laugh and weep and mumble: thus do I praise God. With singing, weeping, laughing, and mumbling do I praise the God who is my God. But what dost thou bring us as a gift?” 

When Zarathustra had heard these words, he bowed to the saint and said: “What should I have to give thee! Let me rather hurry hence lest I take aught away from thee!”

—And thus they parted from one another, the old man and Zarathustra, laughing like schoolboys. 

When Zarathustra was alone, however, he said to his heart: “Could it be possible! This old saint in the forest hath not yet heard of it, that GOD IS DEAD!”