by Trish S. and Camille
Three variations on the "Choose Life" monologue from Trainspotting.
The Sith Academy Litany
Choose Hate. Choose the Dark Side. Choose perpetual apprentice training. Choose pets that mind whammy. Choose a fucking big double-bladed red lightsaber. Choose dirty laundry, sentient trash, and feral jeans. Choose video games, pizza, and Pete's Wicked Ale. Choose an insane, transvestite master whom you must rise up and destroy. Choose a fucking tiny apartment on the 42nd floor, with no reliable elevator. Choose force-driven sex with your twit Jedi neighbor. Choose "Sith Lords Kick Ass" t-shirts in various states of cleanliness. Choose cool looking robes in unrelenting black. Choose Hamster Death Gulps on Friday nights and the horror of waking up in your twit neighbor's bed...again. Choose sitting on that couch playing Jedi Roadkill XIV, dreading the next mind-numbing, spirit-crushing training session with your master. Choose living in denial, faking your own death so you can live in sin with that "twit" neighbor, and wondering what snot-nosed padawan your master has chosen to replace you. Oh, fuck the future. Choose Obi-Wan.
The Sith Litany
Choose Hate. Choose the Sith. Choose ruling the universe. Choose servants and lackeys. Choose a big fucking double-bladed lightsaber. Choose an insane master who you must rise up and destroy to get ahead in life. Choose bad skin, festering wounds, and strangling your underlings. Sith do not pay interest! Choose a huge fucking palace with staff. Sith do not have friends! Choose tattoos, horns and cool looking robes in unrelieved black. Choose plotting and wondering when you are going to reveal yourself to the Jedi. Choose sitting on that couch enjoying mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows drinking in the despair of your neighbors. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, spiraling down a reactor core, nothing more than a pinata to the selfish fucked-up padawan who will take your place. Choose Order. Vote Palpatine.
Paid for by the Committee for the Re-election of Senator Palpatine
The Jedi Litany
Choose Life. Choose the Force. Choose a life of servitude. Choose no family. Choose a hidebound Jedi Council. Choose a snot-nosed padawan, an inscrutable master, and a fucking huge bureaucracy. Choose exhausting training sessions, no sleep and vegan meals. Choose no possessions and one room in a dormitory with no private bath. Let the Jedi Council choose your friends. Choose a three piece robe allotment in a range of fucking beige and cream. Choose constant missions and wondering where the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting in the diplomatic seat watching mind-numbing, spirit crushing Senate sessions, stuffing fucking ration cubes into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last on a miserable planet, nothing more than a blue outline to the selfish, fucked-up padawan you have created to replace yourself. Choose the Force. Choose the Jedi... But why I would want to do a thing like that... Sith Lords Kick Ass!!!!!
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