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The Phantom Menace comes out in three dimensions today. That's three more dimensions than Anakin Skywalker has in the prequels. That's three more dimensions than any line of dialogue George Lucas has ever written has. A lot of people say that Lucas can do whatever he wants to his own IP. But on behalf of those of us who foolishly sank our cash into making him the least-talented billionaire on the planet, I say fuck that. His campaign to use up any good will he had remaining among the rabid Star Wars fans of my generation culminates with him flat-out LYING about the intent of his film originally, claiming that Greedo was always meant to have shot first. I've seen A New Hope at least 100 times, and I can assure you that Lucas is full of shit, and it's insulting that he expects anyone to believe that he's not. So, George, stuff your stupid idea that a shitty movie is going to somehow be more interesting because it's in 3D. Sure, it worked for Avatar, but that's different.

The search has begun for a new official WGN Radio Cubs song. I want to win. WGN has had nothing but terrible songs assailing your eardrums since the 1998 season. I can write some lyrics, but I have never composed a tune, can barely play a guitar, and my singing experience doesn't go far beyond a stirring karaoke rendition of Runaround Sue. If you're a tune writer who can't write lyrics, and you know a singer who has nothing to sing, let's get together and destroy the competition. I'm serious.

If you're interested in all things Geovany Soto, Brett Jackson, and Adrian Cardenas, well, this week's Muskbox is right up your alley! Also, if you're still hankering for chat about Koyie Hill, you're absolutely mental. But Carrie has answers to all the questions that you were frightened to ask. Except for questions about sex. Those questions are sick and wrong, and you're getting a little old for them, quite frankly.

Before you didn't watch A.J. Pierzynski cheat the White Sox into the 2005 World Series, there was probably already something in your gut that made you hate him. Your gut was absolutely right. The nicest thing that fellow asshole Ozzie Guillen could say about Pierzynski is, "If you play against him, you hate him. If you play with him, you hate him a little less." For one thing, I didn't know assholes could smell their own. For a second thing, there is no way Ozzie Guillen said that as eloquently as that quote is written. For yet another thing, when even OZZIE GUILLEN thinks you're an asshole, it's time to take some serious stock of your life. Though Pierzynski's numbers against the Cubs have dropped in the last few years, I have no qualms about placing the infuriating mullet of A.J. Pierzynski at #7 of the Top 79 Cub Killers of My Time.

Not the Super Bowl in general. I'm American, so I naturally love watching the evolution of gladiatorial sports. No, I mean this Super Bowl specifically. There is literally nothing to like about it. Either asshole New York fans are going to be happy, or Massholes are going to be happy. I guess on the other side of the coin, one of those two populations is going to be sad. But that's stupid. Anyhow, this may be the first Super Bowl since Super Bowl XLII when I cared more about the commercials than the game. But I care most about your tips, without which the Roundup would be as incomplete as a Muskbox without a parenthetical interruptor.

Carlos Lee likes killing the Cubs like a fat kid like Carlos Lee likes cake. For all of you atheist Cub fans out there, I understand your godless ways. After all, what sort of higher power would allow Carlos Lee to play all but 59 of his 1,952 career games wearing the uniform of Cub "rivals"? Old Testament, maybe? Wherever your faith lies, know this. If you didn't utter "GOD DAMMIT" during at least one Carlos Lee's 541 at-bats against the Cubs, then you'll never understand why he pounded his way to #8 on the list of the Top 79 Cub Killers of My Time.

Only one week after my mockery of the pre-Muskbox blurb, said blurb has gone missing from this week's Muskbox! What lies in store for future Muskboxes? Will Carrie finally get a cubs.com e-mail address? Will a thought-provoking question get a researched, insightful answer? Will Carrie let her hair down? There is only one way to find out, and unfortunately it involves me continuing to read the Muskbox!

Prince Fielder is out of the National League, and that's...something. If he stays there for the next few years so the Cubs can get competitive again, I'll be excited. It's been a busy, exciting, weird week, so I have busy, exciting, weird links for you. Some of them are thanks to me, and some of them are thanks to you. Let's get to them before it's Saturday.

If the Muskbox is a competition, someone has finally won it. The prize? Free dinner with Carrie! The losers all won free breakfast with Carrie. In all my years of fisking the Muskbox, I have finally arrived at not only the dumbest question ever asked, but also a response so silent regarding the stupidity, that it echoes throughout the ages. I hope you're seated for this week's Muskbox, because who the hell stands at a desk, anyhow? Dwight Schrute?

The worst part of the 2007 playoffs was not the Cubs getting meekly swept in three games by the Arizona Diamondbacks. It wasn't Carlos Marmol spitting the bit in the 7th inning of Game One. It wasn't Ted Lilly slamming his glove to the ground in frustration after serving up a go-ahead, three-run bomb to Chris Young in Game Two. It wasn't even Mark DeRosa grounding into a double play with a 3-1 count, two men on, and the Cubs trailing by two in the 5th inning. No, the most infuriating part of the 2007 playoffs was watching Jose Valverde dancing and preening off the mound at the end of Game One, Game Two, and Game Three. That is why Jose Valverde is the 9th-biggest Cub Killer of My Time.