May The 4th Be With You? Why It's Time To Retire Star Wars Day

May the 4th be with you. May the fourth. Fourth. Geddit?

Right, good, now that annual irritant is out of the way can we get back to our everyday, used-future lives?

Oh wait, no. First I've got to sift through endless brand-sanctioned tweets from massive Disneyland events, clear my inbox of all manner of special sales on Star Wars merchandise and (this one'll make you gag) hear about a Mark Hamill-edited edition of The Sun.

What the f*ck? When did a harmless playground gag become a massive corporate event where Bob Iger and Kathleen Kennedy dig their claws even deeper into the cultural psyche and wring you for a little more cash? I'm a lover of puns, so I'd be lying if I didn't used to get something out of the joke, but that's what it should remain - just a joke.

That is all it was for decades; the Force/fourth thing's been around as a harmless observation almost as long as Star Wars itself, with the first recorded usage in a congratulations message to Margaret Thatcher's election win in 1979 (now you feel sick, don't you?). However, like Die Hard being a Christmas film, it's recently taken off and become a real, serious thing.

Oh, the joke had been used vicariously as motivation for the odd fan event here or there, but it took Disney's purchase of Lucasfilm to really blow it up; May 4th only became official Star Wars Day in 2013. That's three years ago, but in that time they've pushed and pushed the joke so much that now everyone, from companies desperate to appear hip to Twitter "comedians", feel they need to get in on the act. And, like every pun that gets overexposed, it's no longer funny.

From a company standpoint though, it clearly works, because other franchises are getting involved. Last week was Alien Day, because (in the American date system) 26th April is 4.26, which coincides with LV-426, the planet where John Hurt goes on an unfortunate spelunk. This was accompanied with special screenings and limited edition replica shoes and a general sense that xenomorphs were more important for these 24 hours than they were the other 365 (2016 is a leap year, don't kill me) days of the year. That's the most sickening dredging up of the franchise since AVP. At least Back To The Future Day (October 21st 2015, the date Marty and Doc travelled to in Part 2) was a one-off event that had been propagated by the fans, although even that got irritating thanks to the endless fake-outs.

What's next? February 26th being Iron Man Day (Fe being Iron's chemical symbol, 26 its atomic number)? December 13th being Jason Voorhees Day (the thirteen from the title, the month from the number of films in the series)? August 31st being Harry Potter Day because it's his birthday?

I don't hate the idea of celebrating movies or fandom. I am, after all, a movie fan. But once these dates go from being audience-pushed jokes to studio-mandated "events" they lose that sense of fun that made watching the movies in the first place so enjoyable. Instead of choosing to embrace a world and its characters, you're being forced to celebrate it with merchandise and specified hashtags, all with a beaming, uncynical smile. Count me out.

If there must be a Star Wars Day (and having an actual movie released each year isn't enough of an event for you), then by all means have one, but why not on a day that has more importance to the franchise than one silly joke? The original movie was released on May 25th, so why don't we leave Disney to have their faffing about and save our unofficial marathons a couple of weeks and do it right?

See you then. And may the Force be with you.