I intend to gloat with all the spite I can muster when JJ and Abrams are inevitably fired. Kathleen Kennedy will likely escape via Golden Parachute, but so long as she's never allowed to fuck up another movie for the next few years I'm fine with that occurrence.
The decision to turn the whole of Episode VIII into a protracted fuck-you session towards the fandom is one that deserves to be immortalized as a warning to future generations that hubris comes with too high a price. Abrams may have been a low-talent hack, but Johnson wasn't fit to lick the boots of those who worked on Star Wars before him, Abrams included, and the decision to hire the giggling wiggle-head is a decision that brought ruination upon this series, bringing it from a property that is literally a license to print money to a property that can't make money in China and whose merchandise barely sells, all in less than three years.
Years from now this will be remembered as a bigger embarassment than Ghostbusters (2016), Season 8 of Game of Thrones, and Terminator: Dark Fate combined. I honestly thought that the 2019 UK Elections was going to be the biggest fuck you from the public this year, but it very much looks like TRoS may prove me wrong.