I was at an emergency gathering of the Minority Geek Council over the weekend—the missus was having a Girl's Night In at the house, and I felt the need to be with dudes and holding a virtual fight club—and we started talking about Star Wars: The Clone Wars. Here's sorta* how the conversation went:
ME: You know, I kinda dug it. Especially the Yoda episode. I could go the whole series without seeing Anakin and his Jedi intern.
MARTY: Watching him kick ass is always refreshing. But, I gotta tell you, the Star Wars Universe is starting to make me uncomfortable.
ME: Why?
MARTY: Because I don't like hearing that many people referred to as "Master." I mean, I get it, but there are but so many places where the use of that word is acceptible—
ME: Roots, a dominatrix's basement...
MARTY: —and I just wasn't prepared for how many times I'd be hearing "Of course, Master," "You're very wise, Master," "Shall I lower the blast shields, Master?" while watching prime-time television.
ME: Are you saying that Star Wars is a racist enterprise?
MARTY: All I'm saying is that "Master" is going to become part of a whole new generation's vocabulary. And, really, is that a good thing?
ME: ......
MARTY: Now, man up, bitch, or I'm gonna Tekken your ass into a pulp.
*It was a late night, and my memory is a teensy bit fuzzy. Plus, the videogame-induced epilepsy might've set in.
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