Can resident bra-strangling expert boneill confirm that this is true?

hmmm....so everything else (on those ships) that wasn't nailed to the ground didn't float, but bra's would?  I think there's a movie in there somewhere..."Space Bras The Movie...The Search for More Boobs".

(funny adaglas)

Sounds like he had an ulterior motive!

So, can I assume that Mark Hamill has an, um... unfurnished basement in the original trilogy, as well?

I have several theories about that adaglas, as well as elaborate drawings, but those facist bastards at NASA never let me try it out in practice.  

While I think that is more than a bit of hyperbole credited to Lucas, there can be no doubt Ms. Fisher's golden bikini breathed life into many a male.

You betcha, DrDan - or as they would've called it, he was going "storm trooper."

Try the European Space Agency, boneill.  They're much more receptive to that sort of thing on the Continent.

"Honest officer, *I* did *not* strangle that woman with her bra; we was just caught in a moment of weightlessness.  I warned her - I *did* - when we was gettin' into that Chevy Alabaster."

DrDan: with Mark Hamill, would it make a difference?

adaglas: Luke Skywalker couldn't stormtroop the Whore of Babylon, underwear or not; the boy's as asexual as Tom Cruise.

icarus, nobody is as asexual as Tom Cruise, with the possible exception of a variety of ocean mollusks.  Though the relationship between Hayden "Slow Burn" Christensen and Natalie "Walking Redwood" Portman in the prequels comes close.

In my experience with bras, they wrap around the woman and fasten, either in front or back. They're strapped to her chest and back. Wouldn't that be enough to keep them from strangling poor Carrie?

By Lucas's logic, there are no wristwatches in space, either.

Why am I not surprised that George Lucas didn't know how bras work?

"Why am I not surprised that George Lucas didn't know how bras work?"

Hee, hee, hee!!!

There's a weird aversion to human sexuality in most science fiction and fantasy.  I've been reading this stuff all my life, and wondered why many authors can't capture the basics of a relationship, when they can describe the rest of an entire society in great detail.

I should have just chalked it up to the fundamental geekiness of the authors.

Assorted family units have dropped by our humble ranchero during the recent fortnight; great frivolity, beer, and philosophy held forth. One highlight occurred during a game of "Cranium" when yours truly was assigned the task of acting out something for my team to guess. I drew "Low Rider," so I got up from the table, squatted, held my hands out in front of me, made growling noises, and bounced up and down, whereupon our 16-year-old nephew shouted out "Doggy style!"

Friends, everyone knows bras are stupid. In my life there was a time--late '60s through early '70s--when bras were strictly optional...endangered, even. But alas, it proved only a mere Prague Spring.

Back to today, the Cold War. We await a latter-day Gipper's "Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall" in re brassieres and all the infernal sex-negative pathology they represent.

Gracious, Fisher should be forever kissing Lucas's ring for making her famous. And she doesn't seem to accept that she wasn't talented enough to make it in non-"Star Wars" films. So save the griping, spoiled princess.

I'm sorry, Mr. Yard, but bras are wonderful, beautiful things. They are both practical - in the short term and, most importantly, the long term - and, in most all instances, quite visually appealing. Some have been known to cause a light-headed euphoria merely upon sight, in certain households of certain people.

As the man once said: "I was 14 years old. I was in my friend's bathroom. His mother's brassieres were hanging on the shower rod. I picked it up, studied it. I thought, 'I like this.' I didn't know what way or what level, but I knew: I wanted to be around brassieres. ... They are more than underwear to me. Two cups in the front, two loops in the back. How do they do it?"

"You've got your A, your B, your C, and your D.  That's the biggest."

"I know the D is the biggest.  I've dedicated my whole life to knowing that the D is the biggest!"

Woody, I think you're missing the larger problem with Lucas's logic.  There is nothing and nobody that is ever in a weightless environment in the Star Wars films.  Things would just be sort of floating around generally, or so those fascists at NASA would have us believe.  Now, if Star Wars had taken place in a weightless environment, I suppose you could argue that bras, well, but, on the other hand....  Huh.  I'll see you guys later.  I've got some serious thinking to do.