Thursday, September 30, 2010

FAQ you!

Q: Have you ever wanted to F the Empire in the A?
Well now you can! By submitting a Q for our FAQ, of course! ...What did you think we meant?


It has come to our attention that the Galactic Empire's countless citizens, fans and well-wishers occasionally have concerns grave doubts fears post-traumatic night terrors questions about the Empire, your great and benevolent leaders, or even the PR team itself.

Because our government is nothing if not a totalitarian dictatorship ruled through fear and violence completely transparent and accountable to you, the people, Emperor Palpatine has ordered asked us to pick the best/funniest/most interesting questions and respond to them in an Official and (totally) Honest FAQ (or OH FAQ!) to be posted on this blog at some point in the near future.

So please, posting any questions, queries or curiousities you may have about anything to do with the Galactic Empire in the comments section below and we'll do our best to answer as many of them as we can.

The good ones, that is.

Brought to you by the "Death Star Cares" initiative.

Hero or Villain




There has never been a villain who wasn't the hero in their own story, or a hero who wasn't the villain in somebody else's.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Exterminate!




“Exterminate!” is actually Dalek for, “Farewell, noble sentient being! My laser hug ray will help you ascend to a higher spiritual plane!”

Other Death Stars, Other Planets


One decision can change a life, but some decisions can change Galaxies.


After the jump is a Star Wars fan fiction piece set in an alternative universe where some things are familiar and others, very different.

It started as a thought experiment and a bit of fun. If you get through it, let me know what you think in the comments below. I'm interested to see if anybody can guess the decision that changed the Galaxy (I'm sure you're up to the challenge).




Leia had almost lost count of the days she had spent in this cell with nothing but her thoughts for company. Over and over again she asked herself the same questions: Had the old Jedi Master received her message? Would the plans to the Death Star work as intended?
Blaster fire in the corridor outside broke her from her reverie. Had the Alliance sent someone to rescue her? Perhaps even the last Jedi himself. She had almost given up hope.
With a whoosh, her cell door opened. Two Stormtroopers and a Wookiee burst in. Not what she had expected. The one in the lead whipped off his helmet. He was blonde, fresh-faced and young, possibly her own age. The older man was ruggedly handsome, she supposed, but he had the crooked smile and swagger of a pilot. Or a con artist.
The blonde man blurted, "I'm Luke Skywalker. I'm here to rescue you."
"You're who?" Leia asked.
"This is Han Solo," Luke continued, indicating the one with the swagger, "And that's Chewbacca."
"Rrrraaarrrggghh!" groaned the Wookiee, she assumed by way of greeting.
Solo grabbed her by the hand and yanked her unceremoniously towards the doorway. "Come on Princess, we'll have time for introductions later."
The Wookiee was already back out in the corridor, roaring a deafening battle cry as he pinned down the Stormtroopers trying to prevent their escape.
Streaks of red heat sizzled past them, ricocheting off the solid metal walls, narrowly missing them. Above the noise, Leia shouted, "This is some rescue. You came in here, didn't you have a plan for getting out?"
Solo pointed at Luke before leaning out of cover and firing off another round. "He's the brains, sweetheart."
Luke smiled sheepishly.
He was the brains? These idiots were worse off than she thought. They had no chance once the 501st Legion arrived. It was up to her to buy some time. Leia wrestled the blaster from Solo's hands.
"Someone has to save our skins," she announced. Leia fired the blaster at the grill near her feet, making a hole just big enough for them to slip through.
"Into the garbage chute, flyboy."

*       *       *       *       *

Luke lay on his back coughing and spluttering, trying to wretch and suck the air back into his lungs at the same time. Luckily, his euphoria at being alive was enough to help him ignore that his mouth was full of fetid garbage water, though he had the feeling the taste would stay with him for a very long time.
The Princess knelt over him, concern evident on her face. Somehow she was composed and beautiful despite having just been almost crushed to death. Her hair was perfect and her white dress seemed impossibly clean. How did she do it?
As their eyes met, he felt a sensation he had never experienced before, like a jolt of electricity running through his entire body. He couldn't explain it, but Luke felt a connection to her, something deeper than simple attraction.
"So, what now?" she asked, helping him to his feet.
Han jogged back from the intersection he had been scouting. "We need to get back to my ship, the Falcon. She's fast enough to get us out of here."
"But what about the tractor beams?" Leia asked.
"My Master has gone to turn them off. They won't be a problem," Luke rasped as they began moving down the gleaming metal hallway.
"Well done back there," Leia said as Han and Chewie ran ahead. She paused briefly, her eyes thoughtful. "The Force is with you. You used it to hold the walls apart, didn't you?"
He could only nod, still too short on breath to answer.
"Impressive," she said admiringly. "Your Master has taught you well."
"Master Yoda is a great teacher."
Leia smiled. "So he got my message after all. We weren't sure if he still lived. I'm looking forward to meeting him."

*       *       *       *       *

With a grunt, Yoda pulled the lever down, switching off the tractor beam. Even with the Force sustaining him, guiding him, the effort of reaching the reactor core undetected had taken its toll. The ancient Jedi Master felt every single one of his 900 years.
Reaching under his frayed cloak with gnarled fingers, Yoda pulled the communicator off his belt and whispered into it. "Luke, there are you?"
A moment later, Luke's voice crackled through the speaker, difficult to hear over the sound of blaster fire. "I'm here, Master. We're making our way to the Falcon now. Are the tractor beams down?"
"Mmmm," Yoda said, leaning heavily on his walking stick as he hobbled towards the elevator. "Down they are. Leave now, you should."
Luke's reply was sharp, as Yoda had expected. "What? We're not leaving without you, Master."
The door closed in front of the old Jedi with a very final click. "Go on without me, you must. Confront once more the Emperor, I will. My destiny it is."
Even separated as they were by distance, unliving metal and countless living beings, Yoda felt an unmistakable tremor of fear in the Force, one he had not felt for many years. The last time had been when the boy had fallen into quicksand during his training on Tatooine.
"He's too powerful!" Luke exclaimed. "He'll kill you."
Yoda chuckled softly. "Kill me he cannot, my Padawan. One with the Force am I. Farewell, Luke. Remember, a Jedi's strength flows from the Force. But beware. Anger, fear, aggression. The Dark Side are they. Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny."
He thumbed the communicator off and turned his mind to the battle ahead. The last he would ever fight.

*       *       *       *       *

Blaster fire rained from all sides as Han raced for the Millenium Falcon's boarding ramp, Chewie at his side. The kid, the snooty Princess and the droids were only a step behind. If ever there was a bunch of misfits less likely to escape the Empire's flagship, he couldn't imagine it.
Taking cover behind a stack of handy supply crates, Han and Luke lay down covering fire while Chewie and the others boarded.
Ducking to avoid a fresh barrage, Han glanced over at the kid and noticed a dangerous look on his face. "You better not be thinking what I think you're thinking."
Luke met his gaze defiantly. "I have to go after Yoda. I can help him."
Rolling his eyes, Han said bluntly, "Kid, I'm sorry. I liked the little green fella, I really did. But if he's gone to fight the Emperor, he's already dead. It's suicide."
"He's alive," Luke said adamantly. "I can sense it. Make sure the plans get to the Alliance, Han. And take care of yourself." There was a flash of blue light and a distinctive hum as the kid activated his lightsaber.
"Luke," Han said, but he was already gone. "See you around, kid,"
Too bad, Han thought as he pelted up the metal gantry. The kid had potential. Skidding to a halt, he jammed down on the door close mechanism and was three steps into the room before he noticed it: a trail of thick, wet scarlet splashed down the hallway.
"Chewie?" Han called, blaster already in hand. No reply. "I've got a very bad feeling about this," he murmured, an icy cold feeling spreading in the pit of his stomach.
He edged towards the forward cargo hold. The room was as dark and silent as the void of space. He paused, letting his eyes adjust to the dark before continuing. The Falcon was his ship and he knew her better than his own face. No way anyone was getting the drop on him here, lights or not.
The droids hadn't been so lucky. He found C-3PO and R2-D2 deactivate next to each other. Threepio had been cut in half. R2 was nothing more than smoking scrap metal.
Suddenly, all the lights came on at once, the dazzling bright light blinding Solo.
"There's no escape this time, Solo," a familiar voice rasped.
Han knew that voice all too well. "I've heard that before, Boba" he said, doing his best to sound nonchalant despite the fear gripping his heart.
"But have you heard this before?" Fett asked.
There was a soft, mournful bleat. It was a sound that chilled Han to the bone. It was Chewie. His message was simple: I'm sorry. Run.
Squinting, Han saw Boba Fett only a few steps away, unreadable behind his battle damaged helmet. He had one pistol aimed at Han and the other at Chewie, who lay at his feet. The Wookiee was a battered and bleeding mess. Rage and sadness surged through Han but he gritted his teeth and, summoning all of his willpower, pushed the feelings aside momentarily. He had to play it cool if they were going to get out of this.
Edging ever so slowly towards the thermal detonator hidden in a recess in the crate to his left, Han asked, "What have you done with the Princess?"
Boba chuckled. "I wouldn't worry too much about her, if I were you."
"So how much are the Imperials offering you, Boba? Are you sure turning me over to them is the best deal you can get?"
A few more seconds and he would have the detonator. Then it would be the Bounty Hunter's turn to negotiate for his life.
Fett cocked his helmet to one side. "Haven't you wondered why the Stormtroopers aren't swarming the ship by now? They want you dead, Solo. And they've paid me handsomely to do it."
Before Han could react, Fett fired pointblank at Chewie, killing him instantly.
"NO!" Han cried.
Then there was a blinding flash of red light and Han was falling, the ground rising to meet him in slow motion. Funny, he thought, I didn't even see him fire that shot.
The darkness claimed him.

*       *       *       *       *

Luke approached the Emperor's Throne Room, using the Force to run faster and longer than should have been humanly possible. Igniting his lightsaber, he cut down the three Imperial Guardsmen protecting the entrance before they even knew he was there.
From within, Luke could hear the unmistakable whizz, spark and hum of a lightsaber duel. The dark interior was illuminated by flashes of green and red, creating a chaotic whirl of colour that made the shadows flicker and dance.
Hurling himself into the room, Luke arrived just in time to see the diminutive figure of Yoda battling a towering man dressed head to toe in black, a long cloak of midnight swirling around him as he moved. The Emperor. The man who had killed Luke's father. He had been a great hero once, the stories said. A Jedi Knight, before he fell to the Dark Side.
Luke could feel waves of dark power radiating off him. He was as much a force of nature as he was a man. It was like standing in the heart of a storm or teetering on the cusp of an event horizon. Yoda was barely holding the Emperor's powerful, relentless strokes at bay.
"If strike me down, you do," grunted Yoda, "More powerful than you can imagine, will I become."
"That is a risk I am willing to take," said the Emperor coldly. And with that, he brought his red lightsaber around in a brutal sideways strike. Yoda made no attempt to defend himself. Closing his eyes, he deactivated his lightsaber.
Luke, Yoda's voice whispered in his mind. Face him alone, you cannot. Run, you must.
And then Luke could feel his presence no more. The little Master's lightsaber clattered to the ground along with his clothing. He was dead.
"YODA!" Luke screamed. Ignoring Yoda's advice, he gathered the Force into him, letting it fill every fibre of his being, and charged. He was moving so quickly time slowed to a crawl and the Emperor himself seemed to be carved from stone.
In a split second, he was face to face with the Dark Lord, close enough to see the red hot coals burning in his eyes, to make out the deep vertical scar that scored the right side of his once-handsome face.
He swung his lightsaber.
The Emperor held up his hand.
Luke went flying backwards across the room, his lightsaber thrown in the opposite direction. He skidded across the polished metal floor and crashed into the wall. It felt as though several of his ribs were broken. The blood he coughed up confirmed it. Still, he was alive.
As Luke struggled to his feet, leaning against the wall for support, the Emperor casually ascended the stairs to his throne without even a backwards look for Skywalker. He leaned back into it, one bare and one black gloved hand on either armrest.
"You should not have come back, Skywalker," Vader said in an unsettlingly soft, faraway voice. "Yoda knew his fate long before he entered this room. Perhaps once he could have bested me. That time has passed."
"He was wise and noble and the last of the Jedi. And you killed him."
"Yes," Vader agreed, almost amiably. "But he was a powerful adversary. Perhaps the best since I killed my old Master, Obi Wan Kenobi, on Mustafar."
"And what of my father?" Luke asked, drawing himself up to his full height, limping towards the Emperor's raised dais. "Master Yoda said you killed him too."
Vader laughed. "Perhaps that is true... from a certain point of view."
"What does that mean?"
A voice from behind answered, melodic, clear, like wind chimes on a chill winter's morning. "He is Anakin Skywalker. Your father. As I am your sister."
Leia sashayed past him towards the throne. Gone was the white outfit, replaced by a sleek black outfit accentuated by slashes of visceral red at the hips and bust. And she had a lightsaber strapped to each thigh. Her hair fell in long, straight strands across her porcelain skin, but somehow she was no longer beautiful. She was proud and cold, except for her eyes, which burned incandescent red like her father's.
Luke shook his head in disbelief. "What? That can't be true. That's impossible!"
Vader leaned forward, fixing Luke in place with the intensity of his gaze. "Search your feelings. You know it to be true."
Try as he might to deny it, Luke knew instinctively that it was the truth. "This is why I'm here, isn't it? This was your plan all along. The Death Star plans..."
Standing with arms folded across her chest at the base of the stairs, Leia said, "Were my idea. An early draft showing a clear design flaw, which I of course eliminated. But we needed to draw Yoda out in to the open and the plans, as well as a captured Princess, were the perfect bait. Once we had him, he would lead us to you." She smiled but there was no warmth in it. "Of course, we never expected he would bring you here to us. Perhaps he was going senile in his old age."
The taunt made Luke's lip curl in anger. "I thought you were on our side. You're one of the Rebellion's most trusted leaders!"
She laughed, softly, wickedly. "A ruse that I can finally give up, now that Yoda is dead and you are here."
Luke stopped in front of his sister, glaring at her. She met his eyes unflinchingly. "And my friends?" he asked.
"Two of the Galaxy's most wanted drug smugglers," Leia replied without emotion. "They paid the price for their crimes. I killed Solo myself. He was too cocky to see it coming."
Luke sneered, feeling anger coursing through his veins, hammering his heart against his ribs. "What about you, sister? When will you pay the price for your crimes?"
Leia's response was full of scorn. "I have done more for the Empire in a day than you have in your lifetime."
"Enough," Vader interjected.
Turning his gaze to the man on the throne, the despotic ruler and murderer who was his father, Luke asked,"What do you want of me?"
Vader extended a gloved hand, palm outwards towards his son. "Join us and together we can rule the Galaxy. We will put an end to war, perhaps even death itself. We will be unstoppable."
For a moment, Luke considered the proposal. Then he thought about Yoda, about Han and Chewie, about the countless millions enslaved or killed in the Emperor's name. Rage exploded within him like a sun going supernova. Skywalker or not, father or not, Vader had to pay for what he had done.
"I'll never join you," he announced.
He Force pulled one of the lightsabers from Leia's waist and leapt high into the air, somersaulting as he activated the weapon. Landing with cat-like grace on the podium, Luke swung with every ounce of anger and Force power he could summon.
Impossibly, an amethyst lightsaber blocked his strike. Leia was at his side. She moved faster than he could have imagined.
Vader laughed deeply, despite the sparking, spitting lightsabers crossed inches away from his face.
"Luke, my son, you already have."

Saturday, September 25, 2010

9 Reasons Why It Would Suck to Be An Ewok



Everyone knows Ewoks are evil miniature hellbears who enjoy nothing more than using their cute appearance to lure unsuspecting people into their forest traps and bludgeoning them to death using rudimentary tools before feasting on their tenderised flesh.

But there probably are a few downsides to being a killer teddy bear. Here are nine reasons why it would suck to be an Ewok:


9. Height restrictions suck! Only allowed on the children's rides at Disneyland. Also not allowed to operate most heavy machinery.

8. People occasionally confuse you for a koala, when you clearly descend from the drop bear family.

7. Difficult to get the girls - ladies don't like dating guys who are shorter than them.

6. Even if you do get the girl, she will probably be an Ewok and, let's be honest, they're not great lookers.

5. C-3PO would be just about the shittiest god I could possibly imagine.

4. All that fur makes Summer a real bitch. Don't even get me started on waxing that bikini line.

3. The language barrier makes it difficult for humans to distinguish between Ewok for "You look nice today" and "Holy fucking shit, watch out for that AT-ST!"

2. Tendency to be cast as comedy sidekicks in action sequences, even if you secretly have the ability to absolutely and inexplicably decimate the technically and numerically superior invading force using a couple of logs and some stones.

1. People find it difficult to take you seriously when your name is Wicket and you don't wear pants.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

The Mathematics of Divinty and Evil



Mathematics is a beautiful subject.

Not the stuff we learn in college, though. Those are more of abominations; more of atrocious instances of human rights violation, hell bent on antagonizing innocent, unsuspecting students against this otherwise beautiful natural phenomenon. But, that apart, there still IS a mathematics which isn't all about memorising formulae, which isn't all about attending classes for getting to know which approach works best for which problem. Very little is known of this mathematics. And this mathematics, is the beautiful mathematics. The beauty of which comes to light, when one goes out of the text book, out of the constrained and contrived "syllabus" and delves into the sheer simplicity of stuff that goes on around us.

One such fascinating concept is that of the Golden Ratio, or the Golden Section. Considerably less known than the mainstream, stereotyped mathematics ... but surprisingly ubiquitous in its application in the real world, this concept draws upon two things, and stands out from the rest: simplicity and beauty.

What is it?

Pretty simple. Take a line segment. Find a point on this line segment, and divide it into two portions such that the whole : bigger portion = bigger portion : smaller portion. The following figure will illustrate.


When you form an equation, and then solve it you get the following value for this "golden ratio" commonly represented by phi (φ).


Solving it yields the value

But all this is standard mathematics and juggling with numbers. Where's the beauty in all this, the skeptic interjects.

Patience, I reply.

The ubiquitousness of this apparently simple and "dry" number is mind-numbing. From seemingly random assortment of florets in a sunflower or the petals of a rose, to the architecture involved in the making of the Pyramids of Giza and the Greek Parthenon, this little number holds the secrets of beauty, design and simplicity in the natural world like no other. Not surprisingly, it is considered to be the Divine Number or God's favorite number, which he extensively used during Creation.

You can learn more about this Golden Ratio at http://www.goldennumber.net/ and also at ... wait-for-it ... http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_ratio ... so I needn't mention its widespread applications in my meek little post. What I focus on however, is a little known aspect of the Golden Ratio.

And that is its Divinity.

As I mentioned a few sentences back, the Golden Ratio is considered to be the Divine Number. Now here's a question. Ever heard of  something "opposite" to this? A number which symbolizes the "opposite" of divinity? An Iron Maiden fan would jump up to his feet and shout "The Number of the Beast! Six-six-six"

And that's what it is. 666. Six hundred and sixty six. The Number of The Beast. The Number of the Devil. Or generally, the number of Evil.

Now if Divinity and Evil are supposed to be "opposite" to each other, could we come to the same conclusion mathematically?


And presto! We can!

sin(666) = -φ/2

The sine of the Devil's Number is negative of one half of the Divine Number! In other words, they are opposite in sign! Coincidence? Sheer coincidence? Or God's way of stating a fundamental truth? Perhaps we shall never know.


Oh and by the way, this was the 100th post on my blog :) Took it's time, but its finally arrived :)

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Psychological Warfare

Everyone knows you don't mess with Darth Vader. He can kill you with a lightsaber. He can kill you with the Force. He can even kill you with his bare robotic hand. But he's not all about the killing. Sometimes he's about the psychological warfare:


Bottom line: You don't mess with Darth Vader.

We didn't create this image. If anybody knows the original source, please let us know.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Atheism

The Pope is right: atheism is as evil as Nazism, if not worse.

Sure, you atheists haven't quite gotten around to the book burning, starting of world wars or genocidal holocausts yet but it's only a matter of time.



Now be logical for once: do what the Pope's invisible sky friend says and take a stand against gender equality, contraception and gay people.

Friday, September 17, 2010

Facebook

In our ongoing effort to keep the Galaxy up-to-date on all the great things the Empire is doing for you, the people, you can now find the Death Star PR team on Facebook.

The Facebook page will have feature the "Best" of our Twitter updates, as well as notifications of blog updates and any Galactic Empire-related links worth sharing.

Go, minions. Join the page, tell your friends. Whoever signs the most people up gets a cookie.

(Not So) Super Mario

The Super Mario Bros. game recently celebrated its 25th Anniversary. In our ongoing quest to debunk the mythology surrounding certain people the general public inexplicably consider "heroes", the Death Star PR Team sent a few birthday messages to Mario:

Super Mario flees the scene of the latest in a series of malicious fire bombings.

Happy 25th Birthday Super Mario! You showed fat plumbers everywhere they could home invade somebody's castle and kidnap their stuck up house guest.

How does a guy like Super Mario even meet an upwardly mobile Princess from another dimension? Four words: "High-powered telephoto lens."

After years of Magic Mushroom substance abuse, Mario frequently experiences vivid hallucinations in which he, a fat middle aged Italian plumber, flies through outer space and talks to stars.

After 25 years of relentlessly pursuing the Princess, mercilessly slaughtering anyone who gets in his way, Mario's next game will be "Super Mario Prison Galaxy."


Hey Super Mario, how many times do you have to "rescue" the Princess from another guy before you realise she's just not that into you?

Mario's modus operandi is to jump on people's (particularly turtle's) heads so hard they explode, then stealing the coins from their wallet. Above: the Ninja Turtles meet Mario... and a gruesome fate. Image via www.geekstir.com.


Who are you going to believe: Super Mario, a plumber who lives (and wears matching outfits) with his brother; or Bowser, a guy with a wife, kids, a great job and SEVEN FUCKING CASTLES?

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Five (Mostly) Non-Evil Ways to Improve Twitter



On the day of Twitter's rollout of its new design, details of which can (kind of) be found here: http://twitter.com/newtwitter, the Death Star PR team put its minds to brainstorming a few ways to improve the tweeting experience:


  1. "Best of" List - allow users to select a small number of tweets that best represent them (5? 10? 20?) and what their account is about. This would give other users the opportunity to decide very quickly if they think someone is worth following.
  2. Conversation Stitch - allow users to "stitch" two or more timelines together so they can see a conversation in its entirety without having to flick between pages.
  3. @Message Removal - give users a button that allows them to switch between viewing another person's page with or without messages directed to other users if they choose, thus making it easier to get past the personal chatter and on to the messages meant for general consumption.
  4. Faster Scrolling - it would be fantastic if more messages could be viewed per page or scrolling down someone's page could be made speedier. The long wait between screen loads when you're going through past messages can be painful.
  5. Embed a subliminal message that makes Justin Bieber, Twilight and Paris Hilton fans kill themselves. Okay fine, just the Bieber fans. Failing that, at least ban them all. Failing that... well, let's just say we don't need much of a reason to fire up the Death Star's main laser.
Oh, and Twitter? Next time you do an ad for your product, please: less supremely cool hipster lifestyle documentary, more actual content information.

So that's it. What do you think? Let us know in the comments below.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

The Present of A Lifetime

It's my birthday! And to celebrate, I'M giving YOU a present, because that's how kind and generous and wonderful we are here in the Galactic Empire's PR Division.

This could be the most valuable present you are ever given, so print it out, but don't be selfish - pass it on.


Oh, one piece of advice: don't get cocky. Even without the Force, Lord Vader still has the power to bust you down to cleaning duty in the trash compactors on J-Deck.

The Empire Needs You: Propaganda Posters

A few people on the Twitter sent us a link to some absolutely amazing Star Wars propaganda posters designed by the ridiculously talented comic illustrator Cliff Chiang.

You can find his website, along with a detailed and genuinely interesting discussion of the creative process behind these images, here: http://cliffchiang.com/

However, just for the record Cliff, it is completely untrue that, "The only way [the Galactic Empire] could recruit is by presenting a very romanticized image of the Empire and service." We also use intimidation, bribery, brutality and a Galaxy-wide web of deceit.

Without further ado, starting with our favourite:

 
You can find a few more, including posters for the dastardly Rebel Alliance where we first saw them here.

Thanks to Cliff for giving us permission to post these!

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Death Star Poetry 2


Freedom is wasted on the free,
Who only use it to watch more TV.
It's the poor and oppressed
Who appreciate it best -
The dream of sweet liberty.

This poem brought to you by the "Death Star Cares" initiative.

Intentions


The road to hell is paved with good intentions.


Ergo, the road to heaven is paved with bad ones.

Commemorative

Dear Luke,

We ordered these exclusive commemorative Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru Star Wars figurines just for you:


No need to thank us.


Yours friendlily,
The Death Star PR Team.


Another project from the "Death Star Cares" initiative.

Friday, September 10, 2010

God is Love

People who won't change their religious views after you very rationally burn their holy books and racially stereotype them are such unreasonable dicks.

If we in the Galactic Empire have learned anything from our dealings with the Rebel Scum, err... I mean, Rebel Leaders, it's that talking rationally in an attempt to put aside misunderstandings and misconceptions in order to find mutually beneficial solutions to problems is RIDICULOUS.

Pastor Terry Jones of the Gainsville Dove World Outreach Centre is right!


The one and ONLY way to convince people of how wrong they are (and how morally superior your clearly correct religious beliefs make you in comparison to their backwards superstitious magictalk) is to be intolerant, idiotic and aggressive towards them until they realise why they're wrong.

Of course, if against all reason that tactic fails, you can always just kill them all. This is a surefire way to please your benevolent God of choice and add bonus points to your Afterlife Rewards Scheme.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Darth Vader: Behind the Mask


Darth Vader: you know him as the Dark Lord of the Sith, He-Who-Brought-Balance-to-the-Force, Twitter royalty, hero to billions and perhaps the greatest icon of our time. But what is the man behind the mask behind the legend really like?
Death Star PR finds out.

DSPR: Lord Vader, thank you for taking the time to talk to us, we understand that you’re a very busy man.
DV: You may dispense with the pleasantries, PR lackey. I’ve just traced the rebels to their hidden base on Hoth. My skivvies are warming in the dryer as we speak. Fire away (no pun intended) before the buzzer sounds.

DSPR: You’ve taken to Twitter like a Jedi to failing. What do you enjoy most about interacting with your legions of fans?
DV: The chance to strike fear into the hearts of the denizens of this backwater little world one-on-one. There really is nothing like force-choking someone via a 140 character text message. The marriage proposals are nice too.

DSPR: Your fans number over 200,000. What do you put your popularity down to?
DV: I like to think it’s my unwavering commitment to the Dark Side, but the ladies know the real reason. The black leather, the heavy breathing, my command of the Force. I have these things in evil spades and they’re the same reason that girl you liked so much in high school didn’t give you the time of day. She was pining for Fonzie, while you were busy being Richie Cunningham.

DSPR: When you’re not tweeting or killing people how do you spend your time?
DV: I search the galaxy for my whiny-ass son, make back-room deals with turncoat scoundrels and do the occasional voice over work for CNN and TomTom to pay the bills.

DSPR: For some strange reason, some people seem to think of you as a bad guy. How do you respond to that kind of negativity?
DV: Just because I slaughtered all those Sand People and younglings people seem to think I’m this big baddie. Let me just say for the record they all had it coming, especially those lackey admirals that litter the floor around the Death Star cafeteria. It’s so hard to find good help these days.

DSPR: What do you think is the biggest misconception people have about you?
DV: People seem to think I do what I do out of anger, and let’s be honest, a lot of it I do. But what I’m really all about is simply bringing order to a chaotic galaxy. You have to have rules or society degenerates into a bunch of Mon Calamari with boom boxes on your lawn at 3am. All I’m doing is keeping the squid in their place, try and remember that.

DSPR: This question’s from Jake, 12, on Bespin, who asks, “What’s it like being the 2 I.C. of the Galactic Empire?”
DV: It’s pretty cushy, Jake. I get to work my own hours, hunt down Jedi dogs for fun and intimidate entire plants, like yours, into submission. Hope you’re enjoying the new tax on those Bespin Burgers I levied. Your dad just paid to have my cape cleaned and pressed. How does that feel?
DSPR: You wear so many hats, or should we say “helmets”. What aspect of your job do you enjoy the most?
DV: The inescapable fact that people love everything that comes out of my asthmatic mouth. Even the simplest words such as “What?!”, “Sister!” and my all-time favorite “NOOOooooooooo!” become legendary. It’s good to be me.

DSPR: What advice would you give to any young people out there with a dream in their eye and evil in their heart hoping to follow in your footsteps?
DV: Start small, a journey of a thousand dead rebels begins with one step. Bully a school mate into giving you his lunch money or take your friend’s football and go home. Work your way up by downloading songs and movies off bittorrent and before you know it, you’ll be my new Dark Apprentice.

DSPR: As someone who is an inspiration to others, who, or what, inspires you?
DV: Truth be told, Obi Wan used to inspire me a great deal. He was my master after all. I learned a great deal from him before he got all soft and holier than thou. I really didn’t blink a scarred eye when I sent him to join the Force. Nowadays I get lots of inspiration from this planet’s so-called ‘entertainment’. Between the Twilight saga and Jersey Shore there’s no shortage of evil in the world.

DSPR: Being the most powerful Force user in the Galaxy must be great. What’s the most fun thing you’ve used or abused the Force for?
DV: Mind tricks never get old. Let’s just say I never have to wait in lines at restaurants, sporting events or major theme parks. I’m like one big, evil Fast Pass.

DSPR: You’ve led a very full life. Any regrets?
DV: Just that whole force choking and accidentally killing Padmé thing. If I could go back, that entire incident could have gone a lot better I think. Yeah.

DSPR: Finally, tell us something about Darth Vader that most people wouldn’t know.
DV: Evil skivvies dry faster than normal. My shuttle awaits, and your time is up. This has been a pleasure and an honour for you, I know.
DSPR: That goes without saying, my Lord, but just in case not saying it would result in a Force Choke - it’s been a pleasure and an honour chatting with you, Lord Vader. Thank you for your time.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Stormtroopers 365

Ever wanted to know what a year in the life of a Stormtrooper might be like? Thanks to Stéfan, a dedicated photographer embedded with the 498th Legion's TK-455 and TK-479, the Galactic Empire is proud to present 365 majestic photos.

Inspect the full collection here: http://stormtroopers365.com/


They really are absolutely brilliant, so go see them. Go now. If you want to see a whole bunch of them collected on two pages, go here.

Happy Father's Day

The next time you're forced by societal norms to go looking for a crappy gift for your father to "celebrate" Father's Day, we offer instead the following classic Father's Day prank:

You will need:
1 x Official-looking Document
1 x Finely-tuned sense of humour
A willingness to commit to the role

The set-up:
1. With your official-looking document firmly in hand, storm into your house shouting, "Mum! Dad! Get in here now!" [Stage 1 Tip: Sound enraged and outraged in equal parts.]
2. When your father enters the room and asks, "What's going on?" reply, "Mum told me everything. I did a paternity test! You're not my dad!" [Stage 2 Tip: Real tears in your eyes are a real bonus here.]


The punchline:
If he has a heart attack, you've done it right.

Bazinga!

SWGWB


There's an old saying on the Death Star — I know it's in Tatooine, probably on the Death Star — that says, blow us up once, shame on — shame on you. Blow us — you can't get blown up again.


Words to live by.

Image from: http://www.themanwhobroketheworld.com/

Friday, September 3, 2010

T-Shirt: Carpe Rebellis

Good news, everyone!

The Death Star's PR Team is proud to release our first t-shirt: "Carpe Rebellis".


Buy it. Force everyone you know to buy it. Wear it with pride.

Edit: By order of Darth Vader, "Carpe Rebellis" is now also available in more fitting bad guy black.

White t-shirt.
Black t-shirt.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

See a Doctor




Does your child:
  • Play with his "lightsaber" incessantly?
  • Whine about having to do simple chores?
  • Take instructions from the voices (particularly of old men) in his head?
  • Seem disturbingly attracted to siblings?
The chances are extremely likely that s/he could be a Jedi.

Seek help before it's too late. Consult a medical professional immediately.

Brought to you by the "Death Star Cares" initiative.