When George Lucas violated our childhoods by doing things with Star Wars we'd only imagined in our darkest nightmares, he could not have known about the sheer level of awesome that he would unintentionally birth.
Episode Two saw the introduction of hundreds of seriously cool Jedi, including Mace "Jules Winnfield" Windu. They opened up whole new histories, hailing as they did from the far corners of the Galaxy. They paved the way for whole libraries of literature written about them.
Oh, and then, in the next episode, Lucas fucking killed them all off again, the jackass. Then we got episode IV, A New Hope, where Luke kissed his goddamn sister. All the power of the Force, and he can't tell they had the same parents. Jeez.
Lucas owns Industrial Light and Magic, a company that makes graphics like Bacon Salt make deliciousness. Incredibly well. They're the guys who made you believe that Iron Man was a reality. When you left the cinema, picked up a twig and yelled "Avada Kedavra!" they're the guys who made you believe that a jet of green light would burst from that twig and cause the death of some innocent bystander.
In short, they're the guys who are probably building the Matrix, even as we're distracted by bacon flavoured popcorn. No, really.
Until the prequels, movies with decently choreographed fight scenes were nowhere near mainstream. That changed with Rob Gillard, who created an entirely new kind of combat. That's right, no pussy-footing around, he just took bits from all the existing sword-fighting styles (Kendo, Rapier) and amalgamated them into a style I like to call "Blades of Fury." I'd like to, but existing copyrights mean I cannot.
Finally, a character we could all identify with. For guys, she's the girl next door, and for girls, she's that awkward, socially inept girl that at some time they all were...
Oh shit, no, she's actually the queen of an entire planet. An entire. Freaking. Planet. How the hell one gets to that position I have no idea. Seriously, how? Since running a planet's a pretty large responsibility, it's be irresponsible to just give the job to whoever plopped first from the royal hoo-haa - but then, you don't vote in a Royal.
She is also impossibly hot. Despite the fact that she is a Royal - and looking back through history has shown that Royals have tended towards either ugliness, madness, or both. Luckily for history, she gave birth to twins, neither of which were particularly attractive and who would, upon meeting for the first time, lock lips, thus ensuring lifelong scarring for the both of them. The world is back to normal.
This was where we witnessed, for the second time, the awesome sight of a three foot tall hairy green elf going toe-to-toe, mano-a-mano with an adversary. He lost, but he did it in serious style, first taking out the Imperial Guards with a slight shrug. After a display of acrobatics and flashing lights only normally seen where the Cirque du Soleil are in town, Yoda is defeated and runs like a little bitch.
The memory of his insane fighting style lives on, however, in my own dream to make midgets duel whilst on trampolines.