Our society is dying, but its imagination has long been dead. I had the displeasure of accompanying my family, being my wife and two daughters on a trip to Disney World this past week. The place was decked ravishingly, not with decorations celebrating the holiday season, but with eye-grabbing and in-your-face advertisements. Another Star Wars movie had been announced.

My daughter Ava pulled on my sleeves as I stared blankly a thousand miles into the colorful, eye seeking advertisements for the upcoming film “Star Wars Episode X: Jar Jar’s Folly.” My head hung in visible disbelief as I watched a staple of my childhood milked further for its ability to separate consumers from their cash. “What’s wrong, Father?” Ava said to me still pulling my sleeve. My loving wife Ellie whisked her away towards the candy apple stand and nodded a sign of understanding. Ava: she’s far too young to understand. Ellie knows. She understands my qualms with the oversaturated nature regarding the recycled cultural objects of a failing society. She gets me. My other daughter, Naomi, aged thirteen, came from behind and poked me on the back.

“Look what I found out near the corporate offices.” It was a small wad of mimeographed paper, albeit crumpled as if it had been dropped and stomped on by a stampede of elephants. I unfurled it and glanced at the text.

What it was was a rough outline detailing the production and costs and projected profits regarding sixty more Star Wars films to be released between 1 January 2020 and 31 December 2029. “Episode X: Jar Jar’s Folly” being set to be released only four months following the latest edition, released on 20 December 2019. Suddenly, I felt a pang in my throat. My vision gave way to lightheadedness as my eyes turned white, and I collapsed in front of the “It’s a Small World” attraction in front of a crowd of dozens.

When I awoke, I was in the back of an ambulance. I first caught sight of Ellie and Ava and Naomi, and then I looked to my right. The ambulance technician was administering an IV, but they were dressed fully in a Darth Vader costume. I screamed. “This must all be a bad dream! It must be!” Ava started crying, Naomi continued to read the page, Ellie kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear, “We should move to Europe if we ever want our children to be well rounded.” Oh, Eleanor, I’d love to, I thought to myself, but we can’t move anywhere with the salaries of two high school English teachers.

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