Now, I admit it: I was skeptical at first about the Secret. When I was growing up, I thought night after night about having hot awesome sex with Marie Osmond. I yearned for it, dreamed of it, wanted it. But I ended up disappointed—having sex with her turned out to be so-so at best.
Alas, my skepticism withered as the author offered completely authentic Inspiring Examples, some of which use first names and everything! Take “Norman,” for example. He was apparently diagnosed with an “incurable” disease and told he had just a few months to live. So he spent the next three months watching Hollywood comedies non-stop. “The disease left his body in those three months.” The obvious lesson: even cancer can’t tolerate David Spade.
And then there’s “Robert,” a homosexual man who was the subject of degrading slurs and gay bashing until he started “emitting a different frequency out into the Universe.” Hey, gay people: remember that the next time you’re being physically assaulted for your sexual orientation. It’s not the homophobes and violent criminals who are to blame; it’s your attitude! Buck up, already: God made you love musical theatre for a reason.
Still not convinced? Well, consider that the author completely cured her own poor eyesight by simply declaring to herself, “I can see clearly.” Plus, she says she weighs 116 pounds yet eats whatever and whenever she wants. “If someone is overweight, it came from thinking ‘fat thoughts’ … Food is not responsible for putting on weight.”
But don’t just take her word for it! I’ve been following the directions in The Secret for two whole weeks now. And look at me: I’m deeper in debt and fatter than ever! Hmm, and I don’t remember asking the Universe for these bedsores. Excuse me for a moment, won’t you? I’ve got to go think really hard about an author being struck by a falling piano.
Byrne later produced a sequel to her bestselling book. The Power cuts out the middleman. No longer do you need to climb upon the Universe’s lap with a wish list. Simply express feelings of “love” for what you desire—cash, health, the telepathic powers of Aquaman—and it will be delivered to you. To assuage skeptics, the book is padded with deep quotes from such esteemed figures as Jesus Christ, Sophocles and the guy who draws Dilbert.
All you need to thrive in this age of economic upheaval is a cheery demeanour, Byrne writes. Hard work, dedication, a skill set: these are all still for losers. Money “sticks” only to those who are upbeat. “The moment you react negatively to a big bill, you give bad feelings, and most surely you will receive bigger bills.” Got that? You don’t get big bills because you spend foolishly. You get them because you’re a grouchypants. To think: the whole financial meltdown could have been avoided if only the employees of Lehman Brothers had beat the Monday blues.
But The Power isn’t all jolly adjectives and attitudes. There’s math and science too.
The math: the book reveals exactly how upbeat you must be to get off the Universe’s naughty list. “If you give just 51 per cent good thoughts, you have tipped the scales … The love that comes back to you multiplies itself by attracting more love through the power of attraction.” Translation: even a D-minus optimist is pretty much assured a happy ending. You have to love a Universe that grades on a bell curve.
The science: “The inside of your head is 80 per cent water!” Byrne declares. Why does this matter? Because “researchers” have found that “when water is exposed to positive words and feelings … the structure of the water changes, making it perfectly harmonious.” I have no idea what she’s talking about either —but think of all we can accomplish with our harmonious brain water! We can live for hundreds of years if we just put our minds to it, Byrne says. Mortality is for sad sacks.
But be warned—life is not all easy money and marinated super-brains. The Universe hates a mope. “From the small irritation of a mosquito, to the bigger irritation of your car breaking down, all of [your] experiences are the law of attraction responding to your irritation.” So mosquitoes bite only the crabby and my Volkswagen is at all times carefully monitoring my disposition. Noted.
Other revelations in The Power: nothing is dead, everything is alive, there’s no such thing as time, and the Universe always knows where your car keys are. But mostly, the book is dedicated to its singular vision of how to confront modern problems.
Are you one of those negative Nancies who responds to lousy eyesight by wearing glasses? Dumb move, idiot. According to The Power, you can get 20/20 vision just by thinking, “I have perfect eyesight.” If you’re sick and not getting well, it’s not because the cancer is ravaging your body—it’s because you’re not being optimistic hard enough. Gratitude alone can apparently make “failed kidneys regenerate, diseased hearts heal and tumors disappear.” Why invest billions in health care when we can just write the Universe a thank-you card instead?
Need a job? Do not apply for one. That’s a “desperate action” that announces your shortcomings to the Universe. Instead, do what “one man” did, according to Byrne. “He imagined his new office … He imagined his work colleagues. He gave them names. He had conversations with them. He even tasted the tacos at lunch breaks.” And then apparently out of the blue he got a job, allegedly! Learn from him and you can make the symptoms of clinical insanity work for you.
“One thing is certain,” the author concludes. “We receive back what we give.” If that’s true, the Universe owes Rhonda Byrne a tremendous amount of baloney.
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Part of moving into the future is coming to terms with the past. And when it comes to the 1980s in particular, there’s a lot of unfinished business. The air needs to be cleared. It’s time to set the record straight once and for all by answering the question that has obsessed untold millions for more than a generation …
Oliver Stone got studio heads brainstorming when he returned to his own 1980s’ hit and created a sequel—Wall Street 2: Money Never Sleeps. Immediately, Hollywood began pondering sequels to other big films of the 1980s. What has become of some of the most famous characters of that era? And how will they have adapted to very different times?
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off 3. Now pushing forty-five, our irreverent anti-hero is off on another madcap adventure—phoning in sick as a Starbucks barista and playing World of Warcraft while waiting for Sloane to get home from her job in porn. “Life comes at you pretty fast,” he says later that night while reading his notice of mortgage default.
Footloose 2018. Searching for his place in the world, the son of Kevin Bacon’s rebellious dancer leaves the big city and finds his way to a small, socially conservative Midwestern town. At first, the repressed locals aren’t sure what to make of this brash interloper—but once they sense he is merely trying to get them to “loosen up,” they beat him with a tire iron, fracture his shin bones and tell him to “limp on back to Jewtown.” (This movie will be marketed as a feel-good comedy in red states and a Michael Moore documentary in blue states.)
When Harry Met Sally 2. Harry (Billy Crystal) and Sally (Meg Ryan), married now for twenty-five years, sit silently through an early dinner at an Applebee’s in suburban New Jersey. For one loud moment, Sally appears to be reprising her famous fake orgasm scene but, no, it’s just her acid reflux. Harry doesn’t look up from his copy of Auto Trader.
Ghost 2. With Patrick Swayze’s character out of the picture, Demi Moore is haunted by the ghost of her original face.
Hoosiers: Redux. Desperate to win the votes of the state’s hard-core conservatives, an Indiana judge sentences Coach Dale (Gene Hackman) to a six-year prison term for saying “I love you guys” to a group of half-naked teenaged boys.
E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial 2. The beloved alien returns to Earth to renew one of the most legendary friendships in movie history—only to discover that the grown-up Elliott, forever shaped by the governmental incompetence he witnessed as a child, spends his nights patrolling Arizona’s border with Mexico. Does E.T. have his pa
pers? Will patriotism trump friendship? Most important: Will a “hard R” rating for graphic violence and waterboarding jeopardize the studio’s ability to strike a merchandising deal with McDonald’s?
Splash 2. Exiled from their underwater kingdom, Allen (Tom Hanks) and Madison (Daryl Hannah) lobby the state of New York to broaden the legal definition of marriage to include the union of one man and one mythological aquatic creature. This causes social upheaval, statewide protests and Sean Hannity’s head to explode.
Gandhi 2020. In a timely sequel to the Ben Kingsley classic, a clone of young Mahatma Gandhi (Shia LaBeouf), grown by a mad British tycoon bent on owning copies of all the world’s great men, serenely elucidates his philosophy of non-violent civil disobedience … until they push him too far. That’s when he activates his robot army. Michael Bay directs. Tag line: “An eye for an eye ends up making the whole world blind … so let’s get plucking!”
Tyler Perry’s Driving Miss Daisy’s Driver. Five words—Morgan Freeman in a dress.
The Breakfast Club 2. Frustration and anger bubble to the surface as this iconic cast of Brat Packers reunites to share the pain of leaving school, growing up and not being able to find steady acting work.
Do the Right Thing Again. Mookie (Spike Lee) teams up with Sal (Danny Aiello) to open a chain of pizzerias in post-racial America. It all goes great until Sal finds out Mookie treats women as equals.
Field of Dreams: Dream Harder. Shoeless Joe Jackson returns once more from the afterlife only to discover that Ray’s farm, foreclosed upon in the early 2000s, is now a Walmart. Still in his uniform, Shoeless Joe wanders through housewares, remarking on the timeless nature of baseball and the affordability of the George Foreman Grill (hello, product placement). An awkward moment ensues when Joe comes across Ray (Kevin Costner), now employed as the store’s greeter. They pretend not to know each other.
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Of course, 2015 will go down as the year that the biggest sequels of all began arriving. Walt Disney Co. paid $4 billion for George Lucas’s film company, and late 2015 was targeted as the start of its annual release of a Star Wars movie. Yes, every single year.
In spring 2014, a photo was published of the cast and creators of Episode VII. Filming was about to begin. This brought home the fact that:
This is actually happening.
The actors from the original trilogy are now super-old, so it’s going to be great to see Luke Skywalker use the Jedi mind trick to keep kids off his space lawn.
George Lucas is really and truly not going to be involved.
This last point conjures mixed feelings. There’s no denying the writing in Star Wars was pretty hokey. By the time Lucas got around to creating the prequels, his dialogue was so bad that one could feel the momentum building for a class-action suit filed by ears. But I’ll admit it: I’m going to miss George’s wooden way with words.
Every true Star Wars fan has his or her favourite “least favourite” bit of dialogue. Many focus on the love plot lines, with pronouncements like “I am haunted by the kiss you should never have given me.” I, for one, am partial to a scene near the end of Revenge of the Sith (Episode III). Anakin and Obi-Wan are waging their epic lightsaber duel. As they clash, Kenobi tires to convince his former apprentice that the Emperor—to whom Anakin has pledged allegiance—is evil. Anakin responds by hollering: “From my point of view, it is the Jedi who are evil.”
From my point of view?
To recap: Anakin is hurtling along a river of lava, fighting to the death with his best friend and mentor, and so consumed with rage that just moments earlier he almost killed his pregnant wife. And so naturally he chooses this moment to break out the William F. Buckley method of rebuttal. When Anakin’s legs were subsequently cut off, I’m surprised he didn’t yell: “From my point of view, OWWWWW!”
Anyway, deprived of new material from the master, the only way to fill the void is to imagine some famous scenes from movie history—had they been written by George Lucas:
Casablanca
Rick: We’ll always have Paris. We lost it until you came to Casablanca. We got it back last night.
Ilsa: I love you, Rick.
Rick: I wuv you more, Ilsa.
Ilsa: Our love is like the love that lovers feel when loving their lovers.
Rick: I love that about our love!
[Capt. Renault shoots himself in the head.]
Jerry Maguire
Jerry: I love you. You complete me.
Dorothy: Had me at the juncture at which you entered the premises and commenced your discourse, you did.
To Have and Have Not
Slim: You know how to whistle, don’t you, Steve? You just create a small opening with your lips and then blow or suck air across your teeth, which affect the air’s passage from, or into, the mouth, an orifice that subsequently acts, as a resonant chamber to enhance the resulting sound.
[Cut to Humphrey Bogart fast asleep on a chair.]
Taxi Driver
Travis: Yoosa tawkin’ to meesa? Ex-queeze-me, but yoosa tawkin’ to MEESA? Meesa tink yousa been maxi big wude. Yousa best be gettin’ mooie-mooie scared, okeeday?
Citizen Kane
Kane: Gah, I am dying. For reasons I can’t explain, dying is what I am doing. When I finish this next sentence—not this sentence, but the one that follows—I will be dead. Also: Rosebud.
[He dies, dropping a snow globe he’d been holding in his hand.]
Kane: That snow globe is symbolic!
[He dies again.]
None of this answers the central question: Under Disney ownership, will the Star Wars episodes of the future suck? While waiting for the first Disney effort, I took a look ahead:
2015: Although many are eagerly anticipating J.J. Abrams’s take on the series, some are apprehensive that he will introduce to the Star Wars universe the element of time travel—which would enable a middle-aged Luke Skywalker to encounter his younger self, his older self and, quite possibly, a very confused Spock. On the other hand, it could also bring together seven Yodas for the most backward-talking, ass-kicking climax in film history. Let’s agree to let the time-travel thing slide, as long as Abrams uses the device to have two incarnations of Jar Jar Binks beat each other to death.
2018: The franchise is entrusted to other directors, beginning with Michael Bay—who opens his film in flashback with a fourteen-minute shot of a young Princess Leia (Megan Fox), clad in cut-off jeans, leaning over a landspeeder to tinker with its engine. On the radio we hear the sounds of Alderaan’s best Aerosmith cover band.
Meanwhile, Shia LaBeouf is lending his frenetic acting style to the role of Luke: “Wait, what? A Jedi? A Jedi knight? You’re joking. You must be joking! Whoa whoa whoa, this is a total misunderstanding, this isn’t happening, what’s happening can’t be happening to me—to this person who I am! Daaaaaaaad!”
2020: A rift in the space-time continuum leaves citizens of the Galactic Republic suddenly vulnerable to encounters with a wide variety of officially licensed Disney characters, resulting in myriad story and marketing opportunities (mostly marketing opportunities). After all, aside from the merchandising potential, it’s hard to justify the scene in which Lightning McQueen dresses up as a storm trooper.
The fun and vertically integrated cross-platform synergies begin with the Imperial fleet being mobilized to find Nemo. They continue through a thrilling adventure that takes moviegoers from Tatooine to Andy’s bedroom, where the sinister plans of two Sith lords are foiled by Mr. Potato Head’s angry eyebrows. Long story short, turns out it was Darth Vader who killed Bambi’s mother.
2021: A movie every year gives filmmakers the opportunity to explore the rich backstories of minor characters from the Star Wars universe. This episode follows Admiral Ackbar, as a number of obvious things slowly dawn on him, prompting h
is delayed exclamation of surprise.
2022: Steven Spielberg takes the reins and suddenly Star Wars is in the Oscar conversation, with Meryl Streep as Leia, Daniel Day-Lewis as Han and Peter Dinklage as R2-D2, who may just be the most human of them all.
As this movie from the director of Lincoln begins, gridlock has engulfed the galactic congress. Increasingly, the universe is split into red and blue planets. As representatives gather to debate a bill that would require expanded background checks for the purchase of moon-sized super-weapons, a plucky Gungan senator—the son of Jar Jar—gives an emotional address: “Dellow feligates, whatta weesa needs to be okee-day is mooey stoppa dem Intergalactic Rifle Association lobbyists.”
The legislation is scuttled, however, after the Grand Moff of the Empire testifies that he mostly uses the advanced weapons system of the Death Star to hunt space deer.
2024: Wrinkled and balding, his lightsaber dangling below his paunch, Luke Skywalker gets the gang back together to blow up one last Death Star. But they’re in for a surprise when they find that the evil Emperor—who appeared to plummet to his death in Episode VI, and again in Episodes IX, XII and XVI (not to mention the climax of Episode XVIII, in which it was revealed his cholesterol is off the charts)—is somehow … alive (?!). All hope for the galaxy seems lost until Luke, the turn signal blinking on his X-wing fighter, directs a proton torpedo through a hole no larger than the screenwriter’s imagination.
In other developments, Han Solo spends the entire movie saying, “I’m too old for this shit”—which proves to be accurate when he dies from a massive stroke. Han’s death is mourned by loyal companion Chewbacca, who, in his sorrow, can barely finish eating his old friend. In a touching denouement, C-3PO comes out as robogay.
The Future and Why We Should Avoid It Page 17
