Why does George Lucas still owe me fifty bucks?

It might be more than that, actually, because you now need a second mortgage to make sure you've seen the Oscar contenders, but that's all I demand.

I am not seeing the new Indiana Jones film in cinemas. I am sick and tired of lining George Lucas's pockets with ill-gotten, soulless lucre. It's been decades since he made a decent film (rounding up from Last Crusade's 1989 release date), but the movies still make astoundingly large amounts of money.

This is money that could be better spent on anything. Fifty bucks (a conservative estimate of what I spent on those putrescent prequels, some of which I saw more than once in the vain hope that they would improve) would buy you a very nice and fairly large bottle of gin. This bottle of gin would give you hours and hours of enjoyment, instead of two to two and a half hours spent banging your head against the seat in front of you.

It's partly my own stupid fault that I let that jackass take my money. An iron conviction that the movies couldn't be that bad went unbroken in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary. But now I've recovered. He gets no more of my money. From what I hear about Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, I've made a good decision.