I really like Benedict Cumberbatch. I would have really liked him in Episode VII. I still may. However if these reports are true, I really hate the idea that Star Trek and Star Wars are going to share both a director and a huge-name lead. Imma go ahead and try and keep my PMA, but there is something uncomfortable about the whole thing. (Yeah I know I’ll forget all those concerns the first time I see a fucking lightsaber ignite, okay?)

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Hey! Are you like me? Completely fatigued with Abrams and his insipid Mystery Box? Well, tough rocks! Today Abrams dropped a surprise teaser trailer for something. What is it? Who knows! It’s a mystery! Which means that its awesome! Because plot, narrative structure, and character depth don’t matter in Abrams’ world! Just the mystery! Forever! Into infinity! Ponder, wonder, guess! Each curious conjuncture actually powers Abrams’ biomechanical cock, a device that is solely charged by collecting the cumulative curiosity of the geek intellecto-sphere.

Here is the dumb teaser.

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Aw man! Underhand pitched that stupid headline! Swung so hard I cracked vertebrae! Whatever. I don’t care. The latest Star Wars: Episode VII: Abrams’ Controls My Heart rumor is that the flick isn’t dropping in May of 2015. This doesn’t surprise me very much. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Every movie in the franchise has arrived in May. But they ain’t cast anyone for this fucking flick, let alone started filming it. So December? Makes sense to me.

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The fifth OMEGA-CAST is in! During this transmission, the crew covers a shit load of disparate topics. There’s a final Boston Comic Con wrap-up. Caff-Pow brings up the idea that maybe the Crew OL isn’t esoteric enough for old school geeks. We also discuss Steven Moffat’s douchiness. How about some Wolverine talk? Finally we delve into the first mail bag, wherein Caff decides his jaeger’s name involves handjobs. Obviously.

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I don’t know Jon M. Chu’s works. So while I’m inclined to write something unfairly catty like “I bet you all wish Abrams was still aboard that fucking Enterprise!”, it’d just be empty and pointless. So uh. Yeah. Anyone familiar? I wanted to see Retaliation (I love me some Rock), but never got around to it.

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Yum! Yum! Yum! I am the Star Wars swine! I gobble up every morsel of Star Wars news. Turn away appalled as I gnash my teeth, getting gristle and grease up and down my jowls. Turn away as I rub the remnants of the non-news all over my sores-besieged corpus in a state of near arousal.

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Now that Patrick Bateman and Rendar Frankenstein have returned from squatchin’ in the Great White North, the Three Omega Idiots decide to tackle the San Diego Comic Convention Thing. Plus! Taking gnarly dumps, maybe two functioning microphones, how much better Thor is than The Flash, and cheap plugs of shitty t-shirts.

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J. Willy is in the fucking house, folks! The iconic composer has been confirmed to score the next trilogy in the Star Wars saga, and here is hoping he drops more than one memorable tune in these next three movies. ‘Cause yeah, all I remember is the uber-dope “Duel of the Fates.”

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[Caff note: Pacific Rim spoilers in here.]

I. Preamble

One of the neat things about such a small, tight-knit community is that narratives can begin to grasp hold. Throughout this very summer, the lot of us have discussed the latest crop of Whiz-Bang Hollywood Fecaltainment. As the movies have arrived, we have all received them in a variety of manners.

More than anything, I think I could be typified as generally disappointed by this latest crop. As movie after movie has been released I have been somewhat entertained. But for the most part, I have found them to be ephemeral, forgettable piles of crap.

Butting heads with even my own brother who (whom?) I typically see eye-to-eye with, I began to ask myself why I’ve been so disappointed. I figured I’d use this Opinions Vary to articulate my feelings. Namely, that this summer’s blockbusters have been bereft of Goosebump Moments, and that I don’t (and shouldn’t) accept middling efforts when this very genre is capable of capstone experiences and inspirational wankery.

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I feel like I have to apologize every time I write about an Episode VII rumor. Listen. As the teenager hip people say: sorry I’m not sorry.

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