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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[April 20, 1967] End of the Road (Star Trek: "Operation: Annihilate!")

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Operation: Summarize!


by Gideon Marcus

The Enterprise is checking upon the farflung colony of Deneva, which hasn't sent out a message in a year.  One million souls are thus feared for. Captain Kirk has a personal reason to be worried–his brother and his family reside on this planet.


Starfleet's finest head for an interview at TRW.

Their fears are soon realized.  Beaming down to the planet, Kirk and co. determine that the entire population has been taken over by parasitic pancakes, who use pain to ensure their hosts to their bidding.  They have apparently been waiting for the day a starship came a-calling, so that they could continue their rampage through the universe (why they didn't use the ship they came in is never explained…) While investigating the planet's surface (again, only the most expendable personnel are sent, including Kirk, Spock, McCoy, and Scotty), Mr. Spock is infected by one of the alien invaders.


"Ooo!  That smarts!"

Kirk's brother, Sam, is dead, and his sister-in-law, Aurelian, taken aboard the Enterprise for treatment, soon perishes.  But Kirk's nephew, the Denevan populace, and Spock may yet be saved.  McCoy and the scientists in the Enterprise's 14 science labs throw the book at a monstrous specimen that Spock secures from the planet.  No dice.  No amount of radiation, heat, or anything else will destroy these critters (or at least, nothing that will destroy them and not also the host.)

There is a clue, however.  One Denevan took a shuttlecraft into the sun.  Before he burned up, he announced that he was "free" of the alien.  This is the clue Kirk needs (and everyone else misses).  Apparently McCoy only thought to use infrared (heat) and very high energy radiation (microwaves and X-Rays) since the captain deduces that visible light is the key to killing the beings.

Spock volunteers to enter a light chamber and be subjected to a zillion candles of light.  It kills his parasite, but also leaves him quite blind.  Turns out they didn't need to use the whole spectrum of visible light.  Only the invisible spectrum of invisible light.

Yes, I was confused, too.


"We've tried everything!  Heat!  Radiation!"  "What about… light?"  "Yes, Jim.  I said we tried radiation.  You think we're stupid?"

Turns out the key wavelength is ultraviolet light.  Correct me if I'm wrong, but that's generally lumped in with "radiation", but perhaps McCoy was being extremely narrow in his definition.  Anyway, Kirk dumps a bunch of "tri-magnesite" ultraviolet beacons in orbit around Deneva and sets them off.  The radiation (that isn't radiation) is so intense that it even kills the parasites that are indoors, but doesn't manage to bake the colonists (maybe the only ones who survived were Black…)

Anyway, there is a lot to enjoy about the episode, from Nimoy's performance (see below) to the absolutely stunning setting (the TRW campus, from which were monitored the space probes of Pioneers 0, 1, 2 and 5, Explorer 6, and the Orbiting Geophysical Observatories).

But the science is ridiculous, even for television.  Really Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea stuff.  The title is one of the least inspired of the series, too.

It's a bit of a shame that this is the episode that concludes the first season.  Nevertheless, the strength of the others we've seen this season suggests we're in for a great time come fall.  And in any event, it's certainly not "The Alternative Factor".

Three and a half stars.

Operation: Indecision!


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

Captain Kirk seemed to be of two – or more! – minds in "Operation: Annihilate!" His curiosity wars with his concern for his ship's safety early in the episode when the Denevan vessel hurls itself into the sun; his fear for his brother Sam and his sister-in-law Aurelean's safety on Deneva competes with his commitment to civility with his crew, leading him to snap at Lieutenant Uhura in a moment of uncharacteristic and uncaptainly unkindness. (To her credit, Uhura responds with complete professionalism and competence.)

But his deepest conflict becomes clear when Commander Spock and Kirk's nephew Peter become the prey of the fleshy flying flapjacks that served as this episode's villains. Kirk watches as Spock is consumed by pain, overwhelmed by it, then fiercely begins to resist it using his Vulcan training. This moment encapsulates the sweet tension that gives this episode its flavor:

Captain Kirk: "I need you, Spock, but we can't take any chances. We'll keep you confined for a while longer. If you can maintain control, we'll see. My nephew. If he regains consciousness, will he go through that?"
Dr McCoy: "Yes."
Kirk: "Help them. I don't care what it takes or costs. You've got to help them."
McCoy: "Jim, aren't you forgetting something? There are over a million colonists on that planet down there, just as much your responsibility. They need your help, too."


"I need you, Spock."

Though Kirk brings up his nephew's fate throughout the episode, it is his relationship with Spock – and his fear for his well being – that drives much of the action. This episode, more than many others, gives us language for that relationship from both Dr McCoy and Kirk himself: "affection," "best first officer in the fleet," "need," someone McCoy needs to "take care of." The look of devastation on Captain Kirk's face when he realizes that Spock might have been permanently injured was powerful, though it did make me wonder if Star Fleet can be so advanced if it has no clear accommodations for blind people. I would hope for more from the future.


"Who put this #$&@ table here?"

Like the other reviewers, I found the science in this episode silly; I kept getting hung-up on how the Ingrahamians were flying in the first place and whether we were supposed to see them as a devious hivemind or a reactive predator. But Kirk's conflict was delicious, the acting was great fun, and it made me check my TV Guide for when the next season starts. See you all back here again in September!

Three stars.

Operation: Genocide!


by Joe Reid

If there is anything that I learned from this week’s episode of Star Trek, it is that Vulcanians are strong and powerful life forms with amazing physical and mental gifts.  "Vulcans" on the other hand are the discount Woolworth's version of Vulcanian. I seem to remember that when Mr. Spock was a Vulcanian, he could read the mind of an alien lifeform, get to know that lifeform’s intentions and desires, and find a way to help it.  Remember just a few short weeks ago, on the episode, “Devil in the Dark ", where Spock saved a misunderstood creature from the humans that were going to exterminate them?  Now in “Operation: Annihilate!”, creatures, intelligent creatures no less, are no longer afforded the benefit of the doubt to be misunderstood.  They can only be annihilated.


Woolworth's – discount Vulcans available now…while supplies last!

Dear reader, please forgive my jeering of Spock.  As a character, I find him to be a standout and thoughtful character most of the time.  Apart from the limited nature of the abilities that he displayed in this episode, I normally find him compelling to watch.  The problem that I had with this episode was the handling of the creatures themselves.  The nameless, formless, flying, buzzing, lumps of Horta excrement, that conquered 3 planets and had the amazing power to control men and make them build ships.  This seems like an intelligent species that is after something.  I find myself truly wondering what it was.  “Operation: Annihilate!”, completely ignores that, just following along with the dictate presented by the title.

The episode starts out with a mystery.  Mass insanity is gripping entire populations on planets and jumping to other planets, and no one knows why.  The best sci-fi takes us on a journey of discovery, to find out the whys of whatever the writer has brought to us.  This week, we viewers start down a path and are presented with a creature that has more abilities than any that we have seen on the show thus far.  It is invisible to scanning.  As stated before, it flies, directs populations to do their bidding, and buzzes like a honeybee, for crying out loud.


"I suddenly have a craving for pancakes with honey syrup…"

Kirk and the others at one point of the episode suppose that this creature may be part of a larger organism that exists in a great beyond.  After being presented with so many proofs of intelligence, it is disappointing that the crew of the Enterprise, so intent on meeting new life forms, drives forward towards destruction over discovery.  Towards demonization of actions, over deconstruction of intent.  Towards annihilation over understanding.

This creature had the potential to be one of the, if not the most interesting and complex creatures that we could have witnessed in the cosmos.  Instead, these single celled marvels are treated like a disease in need of penicillin.  What a waste.  If only a proper Vulcanian were present this week, something could have been made from the unsolved mysteries left unexplored in this episode.

2 stars

Operation: Vulcanalia!


by Abigail Beaman

As it turns out, Vulcans are not just pointy-eared humanoids with very little variation to their anatomy compared to humans. We learn an awful lot about Spock's people from this latest episode. Now we did know a few things. One of the earliest examples is that Spock’s blood isn’t a red color, but instead green. This is due to Vulcans' blood being copper-based instead of iron-based like our human blood. But thanks to this episode, not only do we learn more about Vulcans, but we might have learned just how secretive Vulcans are about themselves with other races.


So much to this man…

In "Operation: Annihilate!", we discover that Vulcans in fact have two sets of eyelids, after Spock recovers from blindness caused by the light that kills an invasive alien parasite living inside him. Similar (I guess) to felines, Vulcans adapted these inner eyelids to protect their eyes from the harsh and unforgiving sun on the planet, Vulcan. This allows our first mate, Mister Spock to regain his eyesight after the exposure to 1,000,000 candles per square inch. Yet then an eyebrow may raise, as earlier in the episode when he first loses his sight, Bones blames himself. Bones is sure the damage is permanent and nothing could have saved Mister Spocks’ eyes. Bones not knowing that Mister Spock has two sets of eyelids initially really bugged me. Isn't he the ship's Chief Medical Officer? But maybe it's not his fault that Spock's internals are unknown to him. Maybe Vulcans keep their racial anatomy secret. That would explain why McCoy is so irritated all the time–his patient keeps holding vital information from him!


"I blame myself."  "I blame you, too!"

Now I’m not saying this episode was good. For the most part, I actually felt very unhappy that this is the episode season one had to end on (hopefully season two will continue on with good episodes like “The Devil in the Dark” or “Shore Leave”). I do in fact feel that the anatomy Daugherty comes up with within this episode is a cop-out to ensure a somewhat happy ending. [Note: Daugherty is the Director. Carabatsos is the writer–those darn credits flash by so fast! (ed)].

Yet something I would also like to point out is Leonard Nimoy’s acting of the stoic and computerized Mister Spock fighting the human emotion, pain. Throughout the episode, after Mister Spock is infected, he tries everything in his Vulcan power to deny the pain he is in. Leonard Nimoy really shows this struggle that Spock faces; his creeps rather than strides, his voice is harsh, and every once in a while, he seems to twitch in pain. It sent shivers down my spine. I was very enthralled by Leonard Nimoy (well at least more than usual) by his acting in this episode. It was probably one of, if not the only saving grace in this episode for me (well also Scotty about to shoot Spock; remind me next time when I wanna pick a fight with him).


"Freeze, Mr. Spock!"

This episode left me empty inside, and for that, I have to rate it pretty low.

Two and a half stars.

Operation: Copycat!


by Erica Frank

The aliens in "Operation: Annihilate!" are obviously inspired by Heinlein's classic, The Puppet Masters, but the differences are definitely for the worse. These aliens don't attach themselves to humans—they sting them once, injecting them with "tentacles" that spread throughout the nervous system. This allows them to control people through pain—pain so bad it can kill. It's unclear how the aliens coordinate their efforts and communicate with each other. (Looks like more evil telepathy. Sigh.) It's also unclear what the aliens themselves do after their planetary takeover, other than flutter around in shady spaces.

These aliens have been moving through planets, causing "mass insanity" and destruction for several hundred years. If the pain immediately killed people, they wouldn't last long enough to reach new worlds. So it seems only the ones who resist control are in danger, or they'd be like a virus that burns out its host before it has a chance to transfer.

Because of this, I doubt Peter—Kirk's nephew—was at risk of death. Rather, he'd likely succumb to the alien control. He'd wake up surrounded by strangers, only to be told his parents are dead. He might well give up fighting entirely; he'd have no reason to push through the pain. So it's unclear why Kirk needs to find an immediate solution.

This episode brings too many questions. While it's common for science fiction to leave possibilities for the reader or viewer to ponder, in this case, the potential answers often make no sense.


We're supposed to believe large tentacles like these are spread throughout the nervous system… without being visible through the skin? And that removing them wouldn't stop the pain? In that case, what's causing the pain?

Kirk should be able to just declare the planet off-limits, infected, and sabotage its space travel while bringing in a full scientific team. Or will the pain quickly kill people? …In which case, how did the aliens last long enough to get to new worlds, and how have they taken over only a handful of planets in several hundred years? Or are there dozens of others we don't know about?

If they haven't been going through dozens of planets, what have they been doing for those hundreds of years? Do infected humans eventually "hatch" into a swarm of flappy blob aliens that can infect new people? Or do the flappy-blob versions reproduce on their own, with the injected hosts eventually dying along with their tentacles? Do the injected people reproduce normally, and have alien-controlled babies? (Eew.) Or will each child need to be infected?

Regarding their destruction: If they stick to shaded areas, how will bombarding the planet with ultraviolet light reach them? Any of them that are inside buildings will be safe. (And in the meantime, the entire human populace will have very bad sunburns.)

Two stars. While the aliens were interesting and the underlying ideas were good (which makes sense; they were based on a terrific book), the plot itself was disjointed and incoherent. I was more intrigued by McCoy's frequent wardrobe changes than the story itself.

Summer reruns have begun!  Join us tonight at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific) for the pilot that sold the series: "Where No Man Has Gone Before!

Here's the invitation!



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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[April 12, 1967] We'll take Manhattan (Star Trek: "The City on the Edge of Forever")

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Time, the subtle thief of youth


by Janice L. Newman

We’ve been watching Star Trek for almost a full season, now. We’ve seen some sublime episodes and at least one really terrible episode, but the overall quality has been high. “City on the Edge of Forever” is one of the best episodes we’ve seen yet.

The early part of the episode sets things up, with Sulu getting hurt and McCoy being called to the bridge to treat him. There’s a nice bit of banter between the doctor and Captain Kirk here, followed by a moment of horror when unexpected turbulence causes Dr. McCoy to accidentally inject himself with a drug that drives him mad. Kirk, Spock, and even Sulu have all had opportunities to do dramatic scenes where they’re half out of their minds due to drugs or other influences. It’s nice to now see DeForest Kelley given the opportunity to really let loose.


Sulu gets to smile, but McCoy gasps like nobody's business!

McCoy makes it down to the planet below and throws himself through an alien artifact that leads to the past. This is where the episode really begins, with Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock quickly following him through the artifact’s archway to try to fix the timeline McCoy has broken.

Finding themselves in New York circa 1930, Kirk and Spock face many challenges: they stand out in their modern clothing, they have no money nor place to go nor anything to eat, and Spock is noticeably strange to the natives of this time – though probably not as strange as Kirk assumes. As hilarious as Kirk’s struggle to explain Spock’s ears may be, the theater existed long before the 1930s. I suspect most sane people would simply assume Mr. Spock was some sort of traveling player, possibly cast in the role of Mephistopheles.


"My friend, officer, is obviously the Prince of Darkness."

Be that as it may, the important thing is that Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock are convinced that they stand out and must quickly blend in. Proving that he is indeed ‘a rat’ (as Ruth Berman noted in the latest issue of her 'zine, Dinky Bird), Kirk doesn’t hesitate to steal some convenient clothing, necessitating that they flee from a most inconvenient policeman.

They take refuge in the basement of a mission and meet a woman who will prove to be the crux of the time paradox: Edith Keeler. Edith, despite Kirk admitting that they stole their clothes and are on the run, is charmed enough by them to offer them help. She gets them a job, a place to stay, and food at the mission.

These basic problems solved, the difficulties facing the men out of time become more complex. Spock needs components that don’t exist or are incredibly expensive in order to determine what caused the time anomaly and broke their own timeline. There are plenty of great, teasing conversations between Kirk and Spock, where Kirk needles Spock and Spock ultimately rises to the challenge, despite the many hours of work it takes and the fact that he must work with equipment that he claims is hardly ahead of “stone knives and bearskins”.

Meanwhile, Kirk is growing closer to Edith Keeler. She’s a visionary who imagines a future where the power of the atom is harnessed and men will go to the stars. He’s a man from that very future. They make a lovely match…and a poignant one, when Spock determines that in order for their timeline to be saved, “Edith Keeler must die.”


Edith Keeler: Focal point of history

McCoy finally shows up, managing to just miss the captain and Mr. Spock when he’s taken in by Edith Keeler. Thankfully the drug wears off, leaving him sane again, though deeply confused. He has some nice exchanges with Edith, short conversations that nevertheless make them both even more likable. Their chemistry is almost as good as Edith’s and Kirk’s.

All the threads draw together when Kirk is planning on taking Edith out for a movie and she mentions McCoy. Kirk and Spock rush across the street back to the mission to meet their errant doctor in the doorway, McCoy joyful and relieved, Kirk and Spock fearful that the man might still be out of his mind. Turning, Kirk sees in horror that Edith is crossing the street after them, heedless of an approaching car. Kirk instinctively moves to save her but is stopped in place by Spock’s shout of warning. Horribly, Kirk must grab McCoy and hold him back to keep him from intervening.

“You deliberately stopped me, Jim. I could have saved her. Do you know what you just did?” McCoy demands.

And, in one of Trek's most memorable lines yet, Spock replies, “He knows, Doctor. He knows.”


Kirk knows.

The episode wraps up quickly after that, with the three men returning to the present day to find that their timeline has been repaired. In another memorable and surprisingly blue line, Kirk ends the episode with the words, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

The best part of this episode was the emotional narrative, with the push-pull of the various characters’ motivations and needs causing real tension and tragedy. Kirk has kissed a lot of women throughout the various episodes so far, but I believed that his relationship with Edith Keeler, whirlwind though it was, was real and heartfelt. The ending was beautifully bittersweet.

Four stars.

One for the Birds


by a special guest

You know, when I heard there was going to be an episode of Star Trek by Harlan Ellison, I figured I was in for a treat.  After all, this is the fellow who gave us the brilliant "Demon with a Glass Hand" and "Soldier" on The Outer Limits (shoulda won the Hugo, by the way).  And this is Star Trek, fer chrissakes, the show that's supposed to finally bring good STF to the unwashed masses.

The teaser and the first act are complete messes.  We open up on the Enterprise being tossed about by "time ripples", whatever they are.  Mostly, it looks like a sub par episode of Voyage to the Bottom of the Pot, what with endless camera jiggles and tottering extras.  Sparks fly from the helm since, in the future, no one's invented fuses.  The ship's doctor (who else could do it?) rushes to the bridge to administer Sulu some happy juice; at least Takei gets to show off that dreamy grin of his.  And then (for Pete's Sake), our Chief Medical Officer manages to jab himself with the whole vial of goof juice, sending him straight to paranoia-ville.  I guess they just don't make country doctors like they used to.

All the nonessential personnel, like Kirk, Spock, Scotty, and Uhura, beam down to Planet Glitterball to find their hopped-up Doc.  But he's too sneaky–he hides behind things!  Apparently rock walls block ship's sensors and tricorders and things.  We watch security teams walk right past the guy several times.  If I could roll my eyes any harder, I'd see the back of my skull.


"Och!  If only I could see over this rock!"

Kirk and Spock meet up with the giant, talking doughnut that plays Cinemascope films (which, to be fair, wasn't too bad an effect).  The wheels in Kirk's brains almost come off at the concept of time travel–apparently, he's forgotten he's already traveled back in time twice just in this season.  Then he proposes the most harebrained plan: go back in time a day to "stop the accident".  What does he plan to do when he meets himself?  This is Starfleet's finest?

McCoy breaks free of his security guards, though at least that's consistent–the Enterprise has the worst MPs in the universe as has been shown in, well, every goddam episode of this show.  Once in the past, Bones alters history, and suddenly the Enterprise ain't in orbit anymore.  We know it's serious because the one line they gave Nichelle Nichols this episode is "I'm frightened."  Pauline Leet is rolling over in her grave, and she ain't even dead yet.


"I still get paid for the day, right?"

Once we get to the past, as they say now on L.A.'s KHJ, the hits just keep on coming.  Spock needs to build some cockamaimie projector out of vacuum tubes, relays and bubble gum, to make his Buck Rogers tricorder work.  Kirk, his life, his universe, but most importantly, his ship on the line, falls head over heels for a local dame.  That might be tolerable, but good grief–Edith Keeler?  The moon-eyed do-gooder who vomits dopey dialogue to winos about how we're gonna go to the stars, harness the atom, and wear lamé uniforms, and those are the years worth living for.  Even that might have been alright had, when Kirk asked where she came up with her visionary ideas, she answered, "Oh, you know–Amazing, Astounding, and like that."  Instead, she just "feels it."

This is the loon that'll inspire a peace movement to keep us out of the war so the Nazis can take over the world?  Color me unconvinced.


"…and don't forget to invest in IBM."

I'm actually surprised to see Harlan's name associated with this hackwork. From what I understand, he was so incensed with what Roddenberry did to his baby that he gave up screenwriting altogether.  What I don't get is why his name is still on the byline.  When an episode of his is torn to shreds, he lets the audience know it in his own particular fashion.

Anyway, the regulars do try their best with what they've got.  Shatner emotes admirably opposite the vapid Collins, particularly when he loses her to the slowest car accident in history.  Nimoy is brilliant, as always, and Kelley is an old pro who couldn't turn in a bad performance if he tried.  The editors and set dressers earn their money, too, doing a more convincing job recreating the past than, well, most any other show on primetime.

But fer the love of Mike, don't let this be the episode Star Trek is forever remembered for.

Three stars.

War = Progress?


by Erica Frank

On the one hand: The obviously doomed romance was achingly sweet. Kirk fell in love with someone he knew has been dead for centuries. He was caught up in Keeler's idealism and hope for a starbound future, which he knows will happen. She was intrigued by a man who, while technically a criminal, is clever, charming, and speaks of Earth as one planet among many. He does not mock her for her belief in space travel, nor for faith that mankind will someday shift its resources from war to philanthropy. They resonate beautifully… and the audience knows that it cannot end well.

On the other hand: Keeler's peace movement resulting in the U.S. losing World War II is awful. It says clearly, "We should have peace someday, but that day is not today." I have questions: If her movement delayed the U.S. entry into the war, did we not react to the attack on Pearl Harbor? Or did that not happen because we were so peaceful?


"I'm sorry, Captain.  My tricorder only picks up VHF."

This story could've found another way to convey the need for history to return to its original path. It did not need to imply that the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki were necessary to develop starflight. The aftermath of WWII was horrible and I reject the notion that we can only reach the stars through the painful deaths of millions of people.
Other options include:

  • Keeler's peace movement caught on, spread widely—and had harsh opposition. A group of violent, militant fanatics went rogue and entered WWII earlier, with disastrous results.
  • A ship answers Kirk's call, but its captain and crew are speaking German. Because of the strong peace movement, the atomic bomb was never developed. Hitler never rose to military power—and German and Japanese technology, not American, dominated the late 20th century and eventually pushed into space. Kirk and Spock need to fix history to return to their home, but starflight itself is not in danger.
  • The ship that answers Kirk's call is entirely crewed by Vulcans. The peace movement spread across the Earth quickly; technology developed faster. Humans made contact with the Vulcans earlier, and the two species have a blended culture. Kirk wants to return to his normal universe but does not want Edith Keeler to die—and Spock is conflicted about whether he should stay in this "better" universe.

There are several ways WWII could have had a different outcome if the U.S. had a stronger peace-and-prosperity movement. The aftermath that Kirk discovered did not need to be, "Peace destroyed the Federation."

Aside from that: The episode had several charming moments. Kirk's attempt to explain Spock was hilarious. Spock and McCoy both complained about the "primitive" technology—I wonder if they're going to compare notes later? I give it four stars; my dislike of some of the implications doesn't make it a bad story.

Right on Time


by Lorelei Marcus

I once heard our wide array of television programming described as "a vast wasteland".  While I would argue there are a few hidden gems among the muck, it is true that the majority of shows we pick up on our antennas are…not very good.  A similar proportion obtains in one of the most popular genres of television: the period piece.

Westerns are so prevalent in the wasteland that they have become virtually synonymous with "television".  Watch any film or show in the last ten years, and if there's a TV set on screen, I guarantee it will show a shootout involving a man wearing spurs, or a gaggle of howling Indians, or both.  What amazes me about these Westerns, and historical shows in general, is not their popularity, but their wild disregard for historical accuracy.  Beyond the melodramatic plots and improbably long running times of series compared to the events they are supposed to portray (how long until Saunders and Hanley get out of France, anyway?), there is an obvious lack of effort in production that makes it impossible to believe that the characters are in any other era than the modern day.  Jim West's blow-dried hair in current style, the lavish cat-eyed make-up on what's supposed to be a poor woman in the 1820s, the skinny ties and modern suits on Hogan's Heroes, the outfits the costume department lifted straight from the Sears Catalog for any given episode of Time Tunnel; these are just a few examples of the egregious lack of care that breaks the illusion for historical television.


I absolutely believe this is Rudyard Kipling in 1886.  Good job, Time Tunnel!

What does any of this have to do with Star Trek? The most recent episode, "City on the Edge of Forever", has more elements of a period piece than a science fiction one.  And yet, in its period piece within an SF shell, it does a far better job than virtually every other historical.  I could genuinely believe that Kirk and Spock had traveled to 1930's era Earth because of the extra care taken with the set and costume design.  The scenes had little touches: period signs, old cars, wood-fired furnaces in the basements.  Edith Keeler's hair lacked the obvious '60s stylings we see constantly in Combat! and Twelve O' Clock High.  This extra attention to detail was crucial to the episode, allowing the audience to be carried through the intense emotional currents without being distracted by anachronisms.  It also made Kirk and Spock seem all the more "fish out of water", with their brightly colored uniforms and pointed sideburns, which marked them as aliens even more, perhaps, than Spock's ears.  They contrasted nicely with Edith Keeler's old-fashioned outfits, emphasizing the clash of eras, making the romance between Kirk and Edith all the more poignant…and tragic.


"Nothing to see here, folks!  Just a couple of fellas hanging around."

While I don't think this episode is perfect, I do believe that out of all the historicals in this wasteland called TV, it is a diamond in the rough…as opposed to a cowpat in the road. I hope it inspires other show creators to pay a little more attention to the historical accuracy they bring to their works.

Four stars.

A Mixed Manipulation


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

All of us, when we dive into fiction, are looking to be manipulated. We're looking for emotions to experience, fears to heal through catharsis, fantasies to live out. Good fiction is a massage for the brain. But most of us don't enjoy crude manipulation, any more than we'd enjoy laying down on a leather massage table only to be punched in the back of the head.

Some threads of "The City of the Edge of Forever" felt like crude manipulation; as Erica points out, the bizarrely binary nature of time travel was a particular disappointment. Why must a good woman die for the world to go on? Couldn't she have come to the future with Kirk? Perhaps to live with her fellow pacifists on Vulcan? And while I agree with Lorelei that the costuming and stage setting were convincingly period, the virtual lack of Black, Jewish, Latino, or Asian characters in 1930s Brooklyn was startling; WASP-y crowd after WASP-y crowd filled the street. California accents abounded. The extras in this episode didn't sound or look like the New York City I know.


The demographic melting pot that is The Big Apple

Some threads in this episode were beautifully subtle. The delicate domestic dance between Spock and Kirk as they set-up their Depression-era household was tender and sweet. The mutual courtship between Edith and Kirk, with each laying claim to the other in soft and clever ways, was heartfelt and poignant. The doomed nature of their love only made each spare moment they had together that much more precious. The careful, realistic challenges that Kirk and Spock faced upon their arrival drew me in completely: scrounging for money, making trade-offs between tools for the future and bread for tonight, picking up odd jobs as they came – we haven't seen our crew dive into these kinds of workaday lives before and it provided a deeply satisfying sense of their characters. These moments felt like the best manipulation a viewer could ask for.


Kirk and Spock reliving their dorm days at Starfleet Academy

On the balance, I very much enjoyed this episode. I feel as if I know Kirk and Spock far better than I did a week ago and am excited to see more of their partnership develop. If only it could not be at the expense of the women around them, I would be an entirely happy gal.

Four stars.

Next episode takes us to Space Park in Redondo Beach!  Come join us tomorrow at 8:00 PM (Eastern and Pacific) for a show and fanzine readings…

Here's the invitation!



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Fashion, music, politics, sports

[April 10, 1967] A Queer Dream (the CBS "documentary" The Homosexuals)

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There is something profoundly queer in enjoying science fiction and fantasy. The genre asks us, again and again, to imagine worlds fundamentally different to the one we live in every day. Worlds with equality of the sexes in a workplace, fair and accountable courts, ends to unjust wars – and of course, pointy-eared aliens, impossible spaceships, and lithesome green women.

Still of an green-bodies Orion dancer from Star Trek: The Original Series episode The Cage
As queer a dancer as I ever saw outside of the Tenderloin.

For many of us, these science fictional spaces are a refuge, a place that is not only safe for imagining, but safe from discrimination, casual cruelty, and doubt as to our welcome. Fan communities, at their best, can be places where fairness, open mindedness, and creativity reign over entrenched biases, reflexive bigotry, and the dishwater-dull thinking of corporate life.

Last month, I felt myself yearning for Ursula K. Le Guin's shapeshifting wizards, the science fictional poetry of Adrienne Rich, the spinning worlds of Star Trek–the direct result of having watched CBS News's deeply cruel, intellectually lazy, and poorly reported documentary piece "The Homosexuals."

Over the course of an hour, reporter Mike Wallace managed to repeat nearly every stereotype, false scandal, and ignorant opinion of this group from the past decade, along with tossing tinder onto the fire of at least two witch-hunts whose scarring cinders had barely cooled. From San Francisco to Washington DC, with law enforcement layovers in Idaho and Los Angeles, this documentary gave platform and voice to faux expert after faux expert who pathologized, medicalized, and generally generalized about a population they are not from and whose membership they only come into contact with during extreme criminal or psychiatric crises.

1955 editorial headline from the Idaho Statesman "Crush the Monster"
Editorial headline "Crush the Monster," referring to homosexuality in Boise, ID. November 3, 1955, Idaho Statesman.

It was a bit like watching a reporter interview a panel of ax murderers about about the lives of modern lumberjacks and taking their words on lumberjacks' needs, lives, and values based on their shared experiences wielding an ax.

Love is generally treated much more gently in science fiction and fantasy. There are any number of cruel, debasing, woman-hating or family-hating or love-hating works of fiction available on the average public library shelf, but it is far easier to find acceptance and warmth and a curiosity about all the ways there are to be alive in our shared universe between the covers of a book than on the nightly news. Perhaps that is because those of us who love science fiction and fantasy are used to being seen as queer by the wider world, we can find it within ourselves to accept queerness in others. Perhaps the experience of imagining different languages and cultures and lifeways makes us more open to allowing others to live as makes them happiest.

I think this shared hobby certainly makes us more comfortable trying on new language for size. For example, in the program mentioned above, Mr. Wallace doggedly uses the word "homosexuals," even while one of the several men he spoke to used the term "gay." Once, Mr. Wallace used the term "bisexual," but swiftly dropped it.

A still of Mike Wallace speaking from the 1967 CBS News Report "The Homosexuals."
"Some are bisexual: they marry, have children, and keep their homosexual contacts to the side."

Now, there is no word for this community that is not soaked in blood. I have friends who call themselves saphists or faggots or queers or lesbians or fairies or dykes or homophiles or queens or gays or homosexuals, and that is their right; I'll call anyone what they ask to be called. I use "queer" for myself because I had four years of high school Latin and can't really square calling myself "man-sexual" when what I am is a woman who is plumbing agnostic. Bisexual is a fair enough descriptor too and one I sometimes use in the wilds, but there is something juicy in taking back a word so often used in violent insult, so "queer" is what I use.

It is also how I think of my collection of friends here in California, queer as to their sexual orientation or their genders or just their worldview. It is a wide and colorful umbrella we all crouch under, holding each other close out of the storms of social opprobrium like those given a megaphone in this documentary.

It did not have to be like this. Mike Wallace could have spoken to members of the Janus Society or ONE Magazine, rather than merely filming their doors for shock value; he could have followed in the footsteps of his fellows reporters at my own local station, KQED, who produced a much better documentary on this same subject six years ago titled "The Rejected." If he wished to speak to bisexuals, to women or anyone who isn't a man, to people of color, to people outside of the middle class, all he had to do was pick-up a copy of Tangents or The Phoenix or Vanguard Magazine or ring up the editors.

Song from Vanguard Magazine, 1966
"The Fairytale Ballad of Katy the Queen" from the August 1966 edition of Vanguard Magazine.
Cover of Tangents Magazine, Dec 1966, covered in anti-war and pro sexual liberation buttons
Cover from the December 1966 edition of Tangents Magazine. Pins include: "Equality for homosexuals," "It's a gay world," and "Be peculiar."

Mr. Wallace could have done what an anonymous congressional aide did nearly 20 years ago in one of the most sympathetic federal reports on queer people; he could have represented our experiences with compassion and care. In 1949, while the United States Congress was debating a change to the U.S. military's approach to discharges, an aide serving the House of Representatives' Committee on Veterans Affairs compiled report entitled: “History of the Phrase 'Discharged Under Conditions Other Than Dishonorable’ and Present Discharge Criteria for Three Services.”

Now, this report title has none of the thrill of Mr. Wallace's headlines from Boise ("Crush the Monster") or the brutal audio he included of a 19-year-old soldier begging police not to tell his mother they'd caught him with another man and near weeping when they taunted him with the threat of telling his commanding officer. But I find the best stories are sometimes tucked away, not behind flashy titles but in tomes deep enough to hide the truth. No one would accuse Professor J.R.R. Tolkien of being flashy, but I find more truth in his writing of the world than many a jazzier author.

Imagine cracking open the Congressional Record of 1949 like we're opening up your well-loved edition of The Lord of the Rings. Find your way to the report, where a staffer explains how extraordinary it is that the committee has received any formal complaints about the blue discharge ticket process – the process by which the U.S. military removed tens of thousands of soldiers, sailors, marines, and airmen from the armed services during World War II. Flip your way past the harsh realities of finding a job with blue ticket discharge and references to reports with names like The Pervert Records (1947), and you will find this impossibly poignant and beautiful paragraph:

“It should be borne in mind that even a moderate amount of complaint in a matter of this sort is significant. For a person to make such a complaint in his own case implies that, he feels, a sense of injustice so great that he is willing to risk publicizing the stigma of having been discharged from the Army under circumstances which savor of disgrace. For each complainant there are many more persons who feel the same sense of injustice but prefer to bury their hurt in as much oblivion as possible.”

Today, most people who I would call queer "bury their hurt in as much oblivion as possible," making the brave few who raise their voices worthy of our shared pride. Most people who I would call queer seek to protect themselves and the ones they love from the stigma and disgrace and frequent injustices that Mr. Wallace's program did nothing to address or to heal. Most of us fantasize about a day when we will be free to be who we are. Of living fully in communities where fairness, open mindedness, and creativity reign.

I think we can get there. I dream about it. I hope you do too.




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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[March 30, 1967] The Peacekeepers (Star Trek: "Errand of Mercy")

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by Gideon Marcus

Star Trek offered a mirror to our present day world of Cold War tensions with its latest episode, "Errand of Mercy".

The episode begins with two mighty star nations, the United Federation of Planets ("a democracy") and the Klingon Empire ("brutal, savage") about to go to war.  And not a border skirmish, but a full on, fleet vs. fleet conflict that may see one of the parties laid to heel.

In between them, strategically located, is the planet of Organia.  Its inhabitants are humanoid, seemingly primitive.  As chance would have it, the Enterprise gets there before the Klingons, and Kirk (accompanied by Spock) attempts to persuade the Organians to accept a Federation protectorate, in exchange for defense, technology, education, and other benefits of enlightened society.

The Organians rebuff a bemused Kirk, assuring him that there is no danger.  Whereupon the Klingons arrive, quickly establishing a military governorship.  Unable to convince the Organians to fight for their freedom, Kirk and Spock attempt a two-man resistance effort.  They are quickly sold out by the Organians, but then rescued from prison by the self-same natives. The Klingon Commander, Kor, orders the slaughter of 200 Organians every hour until they are returned. Again, the Organians assure our heroes that nothing amiss is occurring.

Ultimately, two mighty battle fleets square off in the vicinity of Organia.  This proves to be the last straw.  The people of Organia demonstrate heretofore unseen power, their spokesman, Ayelborne, appearing in person on the Klingon and Federation homeworlds, announcing the immobilization of all combatants.


The Organians reveal their true power

In a nice moment, Kirk and Kor express their outrage at not being allowed to settle their differences through war.  They quickly come around when it is clear they have no choice.  In the final act, Kirk broods over his belligerence, feeling much chagrined.  Spock explains that they have many millennia to go before they, too, can become Gods.

We've seen many episodes where the Enterprise meets much more advanced races: "Charlie X", The Squire of Gothos", "The Corbomite Maneuver", "Arena", "Shore Leave".  Some might even be tired of the theme (I am not–we should expect half of the beings we encounter to be far beyond us; cosmic timescales favor this).  But "Errand of Mercy" is the best of this type of show we've seen so far, illuminating our frailties as a species beautifully.

"Errand" is aided by some of the best casting we've seen in the show.  John Abbott imbues Ayelborne with dignity and strength, suffused with a penetrating mildness.  And John Colicos, who I've seen before on Mission: Impossible, is affably delightful as Commander Kor.  By turns irritated and almost entreating, Kor comes across as, if anything, a lonely man.  He is isolated by his rank, by his position as an obvious intellectual and aesthete in an Empire of thugs.  Kor seems to want nothing more than to have a friend, and the only person who might qualify is his mortal enemy, Captain Kirk.  To echo Mr. Spock, "fascinating."

I appreciated the justifications for war laid out by both sides, as they appealed to Ayleborne to allow them to continue their fight.  The Klingons, Kirk says, raided planets.  The Federation, Kor insists, was hemming the Klingons in, cutting them off from territory that had always been theirs.  Yes, the American/Soviet parallels are strong (to the point that Kor boasts that the Klingons will win due to their unswerving dedication to their state, and their positions as cogs in its system).  Juanita Coulson, in the latest Yandro, praised the show for its economy of writing, how much they back into almost throwaway lines.  This episode does a lot with a little.  In this, they are aided by director John Newland, who did most of this year's excellent (but abortive) spy show, The Man Who Never Was.


And Sulu took the center seat again!

There were some complaints voiced about the show during our viewing.  Two observed that Kirk was too quick to take the Organians at face value, asking the wrong questions (when he asked any) as to why they felt so secure.  To that, I note that 1) Kirk is, as he says in the episode, "a soldier, not a diplomat"; his behavior is entirely consistent with what we've seen in prior episodes (viz. "The Squire of Gothos" and "Arena").  2) A war had just been declared, with shots already fired.  Kirk's focus was, shall we say, narrow.  This also may explain why Spock was unusually accommodating in his impromptu guerrilla role.

Indeed, that's what I love about this episode.  The Organians put themselves into a form humans can understand, and yet it's still not enough.  Both Kirk and Kor (an intentional similarity of names?) are irritated with these beings who do not behave as they "should".  The only beings with whom they share any common ground are each other!


"In another life, I could have called you 'friend'.  Wait.  Wrong episode.

Another viewer noted that the Federation, as American analogs, would have simply taken Organia, as the Klingons ultimately did (or tried).  And perhaps they would have.  I like to think the humans (and Vulcans) are better than that.  At the very least, Kirk tried to persuade them peacefully.  But given the deliberate portrayal of the Klingons as the Federation through a glass darkly, I think the viewer may have had a point.  And probably one intended to be gotten by the writer.

Speaking of which, Gene L. Coon is a name that has popped up several times recently.  Between writers Coon and D.C. (Dorothy) Fontana, it does seem that Star Trek is reaching a consistent maturity.  Gone are references to "Earth" (though the "Federation" has a single homeworld, per Ayelborne the Organian).  The show seems to have settled on "Vulcan" over "Vulcanian".  The characters are firmly established.

With the arrival of the Organians, one wonders if the character of the show will change drastically.  Are the Organians a galactic phenomenon, or do they only care about their sector of space?  That they didn't intervene in the war with the Romulans suggests the latter.  If the Organians are strictly local, will the Federation and Klingons find other frontiers to fight about?

I can't wait to find out!  Five stars.

A Peaceful Fantasy


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

I've written before about alien cultures reacting to Federation colonialism – from the Horta last week to the Gorn a few weeks before. In this episode, we got to see what Captain Kirk hoped was the beginning of if not colonization, then as Gideon puts it, "protectorate status."

And we saw the Organians gently reject this and all such overtures. Over and over again, we hear varions of of, "Captain, I can see that you do not understand us. Perhaps…" and "We are in no danger."


"Mellow out, man.  Everything's cool!"

At first, like Captain Kirk, I thought the Organians unbearably naive. But it turns out that Captain Kirk, and I, were arrogant. They were in no danger; capable of unilaterally ending a war that promised galaxy-wide devastation with a thought. They were ably prepared to defend themselves and the two societies who so wished to do violence around them.

Of all of the god-like aliens we have seen, I liked these the best. No capricious squires or whiny, cruel children; the Organians had a philosophy, the discipline to live by it, and the power to ensure they remained unbothered by outside forces while on their paths. I can imagine the Horta or the Gorn would have envied those powers, though as Commander Spock pointed out, "it took millions of years for the Organians to evolve into what they are. Even the gods did not spring into being overnight."


Spock comforts Jim for being a primitive.

I find these forms of power fantasies deeply satisfying. Every day, we see the power of violence, of guns, of bombs, of war. To see, if only for a few, technicolor minutes, a power to stop war? To prevent violence? To ensure cultural continuity and security in the face of attempts to colonize? That is a fantasy I enjoy a great deal. Lest I sound too star-struck, I will note that I would have preferred to see any Organian women, any evidence of many cultures mixing together, of creativity, of growth, rather than the mild stasis that seemed to characterize their society. But for what it was, it was good to see.

Just don't ask me to live there.

Four stars.

An Actually Superior Superiority


by Elijah Sauder

In this episode of Star Trek, we saw not just the most powerful god-like-beings we have seen, but also the most compelling. In our previous encounters, the god-like-beings' powers were potent, but only in a localized region of space. In this episode the Organians immobilized the entire Space Force and Klingon Empire’s armies. To quote (approximately) Kirk, “We never had a chance; the Organians raided the game.”


"Mooom!  He started it!"

As humans we want to feel in control and to exert such control through whatever means necessary; we meddle, we fight. But the Organians did not exhibit the same behavior. They expressed disgust at the thought of meddling, and when they meddled, it was in the most pacifist of ways. This gave them a suggestion of superiority far greater than that of the previous powerful beings, who flaunted their power in a way that was nothing more than human.

I very much enjoyed this episode through and through–not just as a show, but as a writer’s vision of what we should strive to be. Looking around at the violence and overreach of global superpowers we see today, what would it look like if we could transcend our primal nature to something better?

I give this episode 5/5.

The Dittoverse


by Lorelei Marcus

A crucial part of the science fiction genre is aliens, and Star Trek gives them to us in great variety.  We have the completely unfamiliar aliens like the salt-monster from "The Man Trap" or the silicon-based carpet monster from "The Devil in the Dark".  Then there's the God-like beings, which display evolution well beyond the people of the Enterprise.  My favorite aliens, though, are the humanoid ones, because their existence suggests a great deal about the Star Trek universe.

The Klingons are the third race of aliens we've seen that seem to be technologically and evolutionarily similar to the humans of the Federation.  First were the Vulcan(ians), and then the Romulans, though there is strong evidence that the Romulans are distant relatives of the Vulcans, and thus constitute one species.  The Klingons seem to have a similar relationship to humans based on their appearance, customs, and technology.  Perhaps the Klingon Empire is the result of a colony ship like Khan's, launched during Earth's warring period.  Yet I suggest there is a larger mystery afoot.

Minor differences aside, there is also a distinct resemblance between humans and Vulcans [and apparently an ability to interbreed (ed.)].  Initially, one could attribute this to the limitations of Star Trek's make-up department, but I propose there is an explanation for not just the connection between humans and Vulcans, but every humanoid alien seen and to be seen on the show.


Amazing fashion sense aside, the Klingons are remarkably humanoid.

This answer lies in "Miri" (the episode, not the character).  "Miri" introduces that 'mirror Earths' exist, worlds that appear exactly like the Federation's homeworld, yet with distinct populations and even timelines.  While we've yet to see another identical Earth like the one in "Miri", we have seen many habitable worlds and humanoid aliens.  What if a common ancestor of the humans, the Klingons, the Vulcans, all started from the same place, on the same world, at a certain early point in its evolution?  Then, this proto-Earth was progressed countless times in separate timelines, each evolving into the cultures and creatures we know.  Each of these separate Earths were somehow folded into one space, perhaps with some space-time affecting technology like a Starship's warp drive.  We already know time travel is possible using the Enterprise.  Why not an accidental collapse of the fourth dimension as well?

There is a simpler solution, of course.  All of these identical worlds could be deliberate constructs for some higher being's experiment.  Personally, I think this explanation is less interesting, but with the number of God-like aliens we've seen, probably the more likely.

Either way, I love science fiction that makes me speculate on the very fabric of the universe.  This episode is definitely a great additional piece to the puzzle that is Star Trek.

Four stars.

I have no idea what to make of this next episode of Star Trek.  Come join us tonight at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific) and help us figure it out.

Here's the invitation!



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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[March 22, 1967] The Lurking Fear (Star Trek: "The Devil in the Dark")

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The Devil’s Advocate


by Andrea Castaneda

There appears to be a recurring theme in Star Trek that showcases how a planet's native species respond to human interaction. In “Arena”, “Galileo Seven”, and “Man Trap”, we’re presented with an outright hostile response that thwarts the possibility of a sustainable settlement. “Devil in the Dark " appeared, at first glance, to go in this direction. However, it is the way this week’s “monster” is framed in an empathetic light that sets this episode apart.

The episode proceeds predictably…at first. On planet Janus VI, a mysterious thing is killing man after man deep in the Pergium mines. Enter the Starship Enterprise, who are called to investigate the matter. After getting briefed by colony chief mining engineer Vanderberg, Kirk and his crew set out to track down and kill whatever this creature is. But not before Spock examines a perfectly spherical rock, describing it as a “geological oddity”. Vanderberg refers to it as a silicon nodule, saying his team found thousands of them after they opened a new level.

It didn’t take a lot of brain power for me to deduce that the nodules were probably the creature’s eggs. The mining operation threatened its nest, so the creature began to defend it. The Gorn in “Arena” and primitive species in “Galileo Seven” responded with a similar hostility to the perceived “invaders”. Why would this creature be any different?


"This egg-like thing? No idea what it is."

Suddenly, alarms blare, the crew rushes outside, and to their horror they see there’s been another attack. Not only is another man left dead, but the creature has taken a vital piece of equipment, one necessary to sustain human life. And while Scotty’s ingenuity buys them time, they now have a race against the clock. Perhaps that’s why Kirk takes on a more militant approach, ordering his men to shoot the creature on sight.

Eventually, Kirk and Spock come face to face with the creature at last. Looking like a blob made out of a shag rug and Chef Boy-ar-dee, it approaches them, and the men fire their phasers. Wounded, a piece breaks off, and it retreats back into the rock. Examining the piece, the men conclude that it is a silicon based lifeform–explaining why it didn’t appear on their carbon-based lifeform scans. As the men speculate about what the creature is, a fear dawns in Spock that it may be the last of its kind.

We are given a similar situation in "Man Trap", in which a lone shapeshifting salt-sucking creature kills many members of the Starship Enterprise to survive. But as the conflict hinges more on McCoy's personal affection for the creature–who looks like his old flame–its death is more symbolic of McCoy choosing duty over love. We get one mournful moment when Kirk reflects on the now extinct species, but it is framed as something that had to be done.

But this is where “Devil in the Dark” makes the most significant deviation from the format. When confronted with the creature again, Kirk has a change of heart when he sees it recoil from the sight of the phaser. Realizing it may be more than just a mere animal, he asks Spock–who now wants the creature dead to save Kirk–to touch minds with it.


Heart to…heart?

This was the moment that made this episode stand out for me. Speaking through the Vulcan, the creature identifies itself as a Horta and explains how she only started the attacks after the miners destroyed her eggs. Because the rest of her species died out, something that happened every 50,000 years, she was left as the lone protector of the eggs.

We are given a similar exchange in "Arena", when the Gorn tells Kirk his kind "destroyed invaders" of his planet, but it isn't nearly as emotionally charged as the Horta’s. Through Spock, the creature sobs, lamenting the impending doom of her kind and calling the humans “murderers” and “devils”. Kirk now realizes the misunderstanding and calls McCoy to heal and save the creature.

Unbeknownst to them, the angry mob of miners overwhelm the Enterprise’s security team, and rush to claim… whatever the Horta has for a head. But Spock, having learned her species’s history, convinces them that she is benevolent by nature. As proof, he explains that she had known about the human colony for the last 50 years, only attacking in recent months as a last resort to protect her species. And by some miracle, the men’s anger is suddenly quelled, having seen the error of their ways. It is, perhaps, an over-generous portrayal of human forgiveness. But maybe the agreement of letting Horta hatchlings help in their mining operations–thus giving them more profit–is what helped let bygones be bygones.

“Devil in the Dark” isn’t a flawless episode. But the moving portrayal of the Horta lamenting her lost future is what made this episode one of my favorites. It offers a new perspective for what the native species of a planet may feel when confronted with the “alien” humans. Still, I can't help but spare a thought for the salt-creature of "Man Trap", and even the Gorn in "Arena", who also may have felt the same sense of existential anguish.

Five stars.

FUTURE IMPERFECT


by Joe Reid

I love and enjoy a good sci-fi story. I am a lover of the works of Mr. Robert Heinlein and other masters like him. In the pages of a good sci-fi book you have fantastical worlds and brave people that are navigating those worlds for the adventure, to save those they care for, and to just plain do what is right and honest. Good sci-fi is so unlike our present world, where the strong, by hook or by crook, take what doesn't belong to them for the benefit of some high and mighty master who already got more scratch than a dog with fleas. Scratch stands for money, for those of you unfamiliar with street lingo.

So this episode comes along and reminds me a little too much of the world we live in. It starts off underground on a planet with the cleanest looking miners I ever laid my eyes on. They have a problem. Something is stopping the means of production of whatever it is that these miners in their all too clean jumpsuits need to mine. That problem is these workers are dying for some reason. Notice that it takes 50 of these men dying before the corporate bosses do something about it.


"You'll be just fine… Bob, was it? Ah, who cares?"

What do their bosses do about it? They do what all big money types do. They send in a fixer to make the problem go away. In comes the crew of the spaceship Enterprise. Their leader Captain “Jim” Kirk shows up and it is pretty obvious early on that all he cares about is making sure that the miners get back to producing. It doesn't matter that there’s 50 men fewer to do the work they were doing before. Money is money!

For almost all of the episode, Kirk is single-mindedly focused. Getting those space rocks moving is more important than anything else. So much so that when we learn that the creature that is killing the miners is a new form of life never seen before, Kirk would rather eliminate it than try to communicate with it. Dr., or Mr. Spock (I get confused about which is right) tries to stop him from killing the creature, but it is to no avail, as the call of space dollars drowns out any call to “seek out new life and new civilizations”. Kirk cruelly dismisses the concerns of his friend and pulls rank on him to force compliance out of the creature. So much for friendship huh, Jim?


"I'm right behind you, Spock."

In the end, it appeared to the viewer that Kirk had a change of heart and started to care about something other than money. He then uses Mr. Spock to talk to the creature, putting Spock at personal risk. For what? So that Kirk can save the creature? Bring back the dead miners? Nope! Having discovered that the creature was smart and didn’t want its species to be killed off, Kirk understood that he could use that fear to make even more money for the corporate interests that he works for. Thinking just like the greedy men of our world, and crushing any hope that the future will be a better place for any of us.

[I'll also note a striking thing Joe said after the episode: "Everyone's happy. The natives work for free, and in return, they get to keep their lives." One wonders if the Horta would have been preserved had they not been such good miners… (ed.)]

Before ya’ll get too upset with me, I know, this is just a TV show. It isn’t real. I'll tell you what though. Things we see on TV and read in paperbacks might very well be real. Only, not just yet. It is the kind of real that we hope to see someday. The kind that we will make happen in time.

And that's why I didn’t care much for this episode of Star Trek. Instead of providing a hopeful vision of the future, I just got to see the same kind of motivations that leap up at me from the pages of newspapers. I hope that the creators of this show can offer me something more hopeful in other episodes. If Star Trek keeps looking like downtown Detroit, where big corporate bosses only care about profits and send their stooges to enforce their desires, I fear that there may not be much future for this picture of the future.


Friendly interaction in Kercheval, Detroit, last summer.

3 stars

A Vulcanian’s Best Friend


by Abigail Beaman

If you were to ask my opinion about Gene Roddenberry's Star Trek, I would of course start gushing over how much I love the cast and concept of the show. It has to be one of my favorite programs that I sit down and watch regularly. Each character has a unique personality that sets him and her apart from each other, so much so that I can remember their names.

While Captain James T Kirk is charismatic and headstrong, Doctor Leonard “Bones” McCoy is cantankerous and hot-headed; but no one stands out as much as Mister Lieutenant Commander Spock. The reason is simple: he is half-Vulcan(ian?), an alien race whose members either lack emotions or repress said emotions. Due to his half-Vulcan side, Mister Spock is best described as a logical, calm, and stoic computerized man. And while it seems he gets along with most of the crew, despite his emotionless stature, there seems to be just one person that Spock truly cares about on the Enterprise. That man of course is Captain Kirk.

How do I reach this conclusion? Well, simply the only time Spock seems to break his stoic behavior and disregard any morals he has (without the aid of a certain flower’s spores) is when Kirk is in trouble. This episode shows just how deep the relationship runs between the half-Vulcan scientist and the charismatic human captain.

At the start of the episode, Spock makes it clear that he doesn’t want to kill the Horta, as he believes it to be the last of the species, a reservation he expressed in "The Man Trap", too. Spock in other episodes also has demonstrated that he values life above all else. It seems that preserving life is a moral of his and to break it would be like him breaking his stoic, Vulcan behavior. Even when Kirk tells the security team that they are to kill the Horta on sight, Spock disregards this direct order and tells the team to try to keep it alive if possible.


"Spock, what did I just say? Kill, not capture."

That is, until Kirk is at the Horta’s mercy. Spock’s opinion of the situation changes entirely: he tells Kirk to shoot it, to kill it before it kills him. The fear that Spock displays not only in his voice but also his movements clearly paints a picture, that Kirk is someone Spock cherishes greatly. Spock runs down the cave to save his friend only to find out Kirk has had a change in heart. Spock was not only ready to kill the Horta, but to sacrifice his own morals for Kirk. I don’t know about you, but the only time I would consider betraying my morals is for someone I consider a true friend, not someone who I work with.


"I'm quickening my pace, Jim!"

Clearly, the relationship between Spock and Kirk goes beyond that of just co-workers. It's a revelation that has been a long time coming, and a welcome one. Which is why I felt compelled to discuss it over any other aspect of the episode. That Spock sees Kirk as someone he cares about, enough to break his “Vulcanian cool” and morals to save, leaves me reassured. Maybe Spock can't be "happy", as he stated last episode. Nevertheless, even if Spock is an emotionless alien, he still can find a kind of companionship in his best friend, Jim Kirk.

Four stars.

Fighting Fire with Empathy


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

I loved the twistiness of this episode. First Kirk wants to kill the Horta, then he defends it with not only his own life, but his crew's bodies. First it's a monster, then a mother. First Spock is his usual cool, emotionless self, and then he is screaming in pain as he connects himself mentally to the Horta. First the silicon nodules have "no commercial value" and then they become the hope of a new golden age of mining on Janus 6.


"Oooo, that smarts!"

Just like in "Arena," in "The Devil in the Dark" we are confronted with the colonial shortsightedness of Starfleet. Janus 6 is a "long-established colony" whose longtime colonists have somehow managed to miss an entire species of rock-dwelling creatures. Now, their 50,000 year breeding cycle might explain this, but stepping away from the specifics, it does remind me of modern failures of imagination, particularly in cases of colonial governments failing to understand the places they seek to control.

For example, the refusal of the U.S. Forest Service to use the wildfire management strategies that the Tongva Nation, Chumash Bands, and other peoples have used since time immemorial in what is now called California. Last November, this led to the tragic death of 10 hotshot firefighters in the Loop Fire near Los Angeles. Like the Horta, that wildfire burned hot and seemingly without reason; but wildfires, like Hortas, often have a logic of their own. The canyons that burned in the Angeles National Forest had been left uncleared for decades of misguided fire-suppression policies. When all of that mass had built up, of course it burned too hot and too fast to stop. The failure of the Janus 6 geologic survey team to find local life built up another kind of conflagration, one that killed 50. One hopes they won't make that mistake again.


The Loop Fire

Though we can't use Spock's Vulcanian skills to read the minds of wildfires, one of the beauties of science fiction is the hope that we might one day communicate with someone as different from us as blood and stone, or fire and water. The tension between what is and what could be, the twistiness as we get from here to there, is the fun of the genre, and this episode did a great job of letting us enjoy the ride.

4 stars.

In the next episode, Kirk and Spock go to the California Renaissance Faire. Come join us tomorrow at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific)!.

Here's the invitation!

 



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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[March 2, 1967] (Star Trek: "A Taste of Armageddon")

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A Cold, Cruel Counting


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

Most of my friends only experience the war through numbers. Unless they have family on the streets where the bombs are falling, in uniform or not, kill counts reported on the screens in our homes are the only way many people track the war in real-time.

It helps me to remember that TV show writers don't live in a pocket universe, one more far-seeing, wiser than the one in which we all shower and shave and find holes in our socks every day. Unless they are unlucky enough to have participated in the current war, their knowledge of the war comes from those same sources.

The pictures we see on television or in our papers – bombs, bodies, landscapes we've never driven through, leaders speaking languages we do not, propaganda both crudely and delicately crafted – have limited currency. But numbers, kill counts especially, are strangely memorable. We repeat them, over and over, as if these numbers tell us something of what it is like to fight and die on the other side of the world.

Gideon's copy of The World in 1966: History as We Lived It by the Writers, Photographers, and Editors of The Associated Press (Published February 1967) has this to say about the ongoing conflict in Vietnam:

"The allied side lost nearly 14,500 dead during the year, including some 4,800 Americans.  Enemy dead were placed at 50,000, but some officials privately said the figure was inflated."

The war in "A Taste of Armageddon" feels like the product of this numbers-based approach to understanding war. In this writerly extension of bloodlessly reported casualty counts, Captain Kirk and his crew face two entire societies (Eminiar Seven and Vendikar) which conduct their war via computers and then tally up the expected deaths. Living people then march into disintegration chambers to keep their 500 year war's gory score. Those societies have chosen to ensure that:

Anan: […] Our civilization lives. The people die, but our culture goes on.
Kirk: You mean to tell me your people just walk into a disintegration machine when they're told to?
Anan: We have a high consciousness of duty, Captain.

Backing up, Captain Kirk and his crew had been ferrying Ambassador Fox to open up diplomatic relations with Eminiar Seven, who they have little knowledge of. They are warned away, but acting under the Ambassador's orders, they disregard the warnings. It soon comes to light that, by entering orbit around Eminiar Seven, the Eminians and Vendikans now consider the Enterprise as a fair target in their murderously bloodless war games. When Captain Kirk declines to order the crew to transport themselves to the surface to be disintegrated, the leaders of the planet hold him and the rest of the landing party hostage.

There is some clever interplay, personal bravery, voice-faking trickery, stubborn commitment to principals on both sides, a self-sacrificing lady in distress, a self-important diplomat, some cruel things said about diplomats as a category by Mr. Scott ("Diplomats. The best diplomat I know is a fully activated phaser bank"), and finally, a threat of overwhelming force, via the apparently genocidal standing "Order Twenty Four." (I spent much of the episode hoping "Order 24" was an old joke between the Captain and Scotty, but that shoe never dropped, leaving me disturbed as to Starfleet's comfort with destroying sentient life en mass). Eventually, Captain Kirk gains the upper hand and forces the Eminians and Vendikans to the negotiating table, with the following mandate:

Kirk: "I've given you back the horrors of war. The Vendikans now assume that you've broken your agreement and that you're preparing to wage real war with real weapons. They'll want to do the same. Only the next attack they launch will do a lot more than count up numbers in a computer. They'll destroy cities, devastate your planet. You of course will want to retaliate. If I were you, I'd start making bombs. Yes, Councilman, you have a real war on your hands. You can either wage it with real weapons, or you might consider an alternative. Put an end to it. Make peace."


Make Love, not War

Because, despite the callow specimen of a diplomat that Ambassador Fox turns out to be, all wars – computer-run or otherwise – end at the negotiating table. Smart leaders try to get there as soon as possible, because they know the reality that the Eminians and Vendikans did not seem to grasp: every life lost in war is a blow to that culture. Every dead body, bomb explosion, pitted landscape, dead leader, and bit of corrosive propoganda is part of cultural death.

To be clear, I am not against self-defense in war. A proper pacifist, I am not. If I had the option of being drafted, I could not honestly mark myself a conscientious objector because I do believe there are some wars that need fighting; the jacket I wear in my photo was a relative's Plebe jacket from West Point, class of '49 and he is not the only one to serve in my family. But wars of choice are an entirely different matter to me. Those leaders who wake up one morning and decide to send other people's children to die over borders they should not have crossed in the first place are a curse upon our shared world. We have no idea how the war between the Eminians and Venikans began – by choice, by misunderstanding, by cement-shoe treaties, or with one attacking and the other defending. They do not seem to recall the inciting incident either. In the end, like all wars, peace will only come from talking.

And I find myself agreeing with Captain Kirk, wishing more people would know the consequences of war, and not just the counts of it. Perhaps we too would seek peace and hold her more dearly if we did.

Four stars.

A Polite and Gentle War?


by Erica Frank

I'm sure Dr. Leary would have something to say about the psychology of a whole society—two whole planets, in fact—that has indoctrinated its people so well that they politely march off to death when a computer tells them to.

This is exactly the opposite of the Human Be-In that took place in San Francisco last month, with its focus on "Turn on, tune in, drop out." Instead, the Eminians (and, presumably, Vendikans, although we don't meet them) have a whole culture of "Show up, tune out, drop dead."


The Eminians could take a page from our book…

While their society appears peaceful to Kirk and his team, there must be a great deal of turmoil under the surface. It's not easy to get people to just politely walk to their deaths, so their indoctrination must start very young—perhaps in infancy. Otherwise, how could you explain to a six-year-old that Mommy is leaving forever because a computer said she's dead now? Do parents calmly hand over their children to be disintegrated? …Or are children exempt from "war death," and that's one of the "messy" parts of war that their game avoids? Either way, Eminiar must have a booming business in last-minute video recordings left at the disintegration center for loved ones to pick up later.

However, I suspect the people are not so controlled as all that. While some people—like the High Council—might walk quietly to their own deaths for the sake of society, the general populace may not be so compliant.


"All those in favor of marching to your death, please remain seated."

What terrors must their death guardians commit on the populace, to convince millions of people to leave their families to die?

What do anti-war protests on Eminiar look like? Perhaps they hang around the death centers, handing out flyers that say "You Still Live! Reject the Computer and Reclaim Your Life!" Of course, the High Council would have the Enterprise crew believe that nobody protests, that everyone follows orders. But if that's true… why do their guards carry guns?

Eminiar seems to be a technologically advanced society. Surely a society that is at peace except for the cold calculations of the war itself, has little experience with interpersonal violence. But their guards are armed and well-trained. If people go to their deaths without complaint, why would their guards be so combat-ready that they are able to take down Kirk and his team? Who are they trained to fight when Federation agents aren't visiting?

I think we only got to see a tiny slice of Eminian life, filtered through the biases of the council that calmly declares millions of deaths and then makes sure that number comes true. We saw "Ministry of Peace" propaganda, not what life is actually like for most people.

Four stars. The more I think about this episode, the more chilling implications I find.

Mutually Assured Accounting


by Lorelei Marcus

How often can someone confidently say they are living through an historic event?  The kind of world-altering occurrence or period that will go down in the textbooks, that kids will memorize for years to come. 

I think everyone lives through three or four.  I narrowly missed World War II, but the bulk of my life has been spent in the conflict that has succeeded it.  Indeed, this one may be even more global in character than the last, because we all are living in its shadow: The Cold War.

I know the Cold War is a big deal, beyond the news items, the Duck and Cover drills, the Ban the Bomb protests, because it is everywhere in my entertainment.  In songs like Barry MacGuire's Eve of Destruction.  In movies like Dr. Strangelove, Failsafe, On the Beach, Panic in Year Zero.  On the small screen in shows like Twilight Zone and Britain's The War Game.  Books like Alas, Babylon and Farnham's Freehold.

These cautionary tales are so omnipresent that they've almost become cliché.  Sure, we're all afraid of the Bomb.  Using it is clearly senseless.  What else can/need be said?

So you can imagine my surprise (and not a little delight) at Star Trek's complete inversion of this theme with its latest episode, "A Taste of Armageddon".

Rather than the typical structure of two equally matched parties tensely avoiding conflict because of mutually assured destruction, instead the episode plunges us right into a Hot War.  A hot but clean war with no real weapons, but innumerable calculated casualties.


"G-4" "It's a hit!"

To stave off the possibility of total annihilation from an ever-escalating conflict, the two superpowers (planets in this case) chose to guarantee destruction, but only of people.  What a clever, callous twist!  Not only is it a comment on how nations might paradoxically value their existence over their constituents (what is a country if not the people living in it?) but it also highlights that no matter how efficiently one conducts a war, the result is still death and ruin.

The only answer is peace.  Five stars.

Getting to Know You


by Gideon Marcus

My colleagues have done an excellent job discussing the content of the episode, so I just want to note a few nifty things about its production.

One of the things that endears Star Trek to me is its ensemble nature.  This was a particularly balanced episode that saw many of its principals shining (though Uhura still remains underused, and Sulu was absent this week).  I was particularly impressed with Chief Engineer Scott's first televised turn at the helm, at which I thought he did just fine.  It seems a little strange to have the engineers in line for the bridge's center seat, but the "Starfleet" of the "United Federation of Planets" (terms of art we're starting to hear more and more) seems a lot looser on branch distinctions than the U.S. Navy.  Viz. Kevin Riley (is he still around?) moving from Engineering, to Navigation, to Communications–a path Lt. Uhura also seems to have traveled.


"I'll nae lower th' screens!"

This is the second time we've had a special Federation commissioner on board.  While I did not appreciate Mr. Fox most of the time, I do appreciate that the Enterprise is often a courier as well as a scientific vessel and sometimes warship.  The jack-of-all-trades cruiser-like nature of the ship allows for a wide variety of interesting stories.

Joe Pevney has returned to take up the director's megaphone.  He and Marc Daniels appear to have most put their imprimatur on this fledgling show, and they have yet to really disappoint (sometimes scripts let them down, of course).  A name I am seeing more is Gene L. Coon, usually in co-writing credits.  I've seen him all over television, particularly on Laredo, COMBAT!, and Wagon Train.  I'm sure there are others I've missed/forgotten.  Along with his arrival, I'm noticing a minor change in tone.  Trek feels less like an anthology show that happens to have consistent characters, and more like its own entity–a lived-in universe.

I suppose it was inevitable that, as the world of Trek became established, folks not attached to the show would want to become part of the phenomenon, particularly in light of the big "Save Star Trek" campaign we saw at the end of last year.  So it is no surprise that we are seeing our first Trek-specific clubs and even club 'zines.

Trek has been guaranteed at least one more season.  I look forward not only to more great episodes like this one (I give it a solid four stars), but also to learning more about the inhabitants and worlds that populate it!

Something WEIRD is going on. Join us tonight at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific) for what looks like it will be a very strange episode of Star Trek:

Here's the invitation!



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TV

[February 22, 1967] Where some (super)men had gone before (Star Trek's: "Space Seed")

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The Best of Tyrants, The Worst of Tyrants


by Janice L. Newman

Eugenics—the idea that people can be ‘bred’ to emphasize certain desirable traits the way breeders do with animals or botanists do with plants—is an interesting concept in a science fiction setting. So it’s not surprising to encounter an episode of Star Trek built around the concept. What is a little surprising is that the narrative doesn’t do more to condemn either the concept or the practice.

Space Seed begins with the Enterprise finding an ancient Earth vessel with no crew except a group of men and women in cold sleep, their bodies held in stasis. The arrival of the away team triggers the ship, which is suggestively named the “S.S. Botany Bay”, to awaken one of the sleepers.


Sleeping Beauty

After nearly dying during the revival process, the man is brought aboard the Enterprise. He proceeds to threaten Dr. McCoy (who responds with such chutzpah that I think it’s my new favorite scene with him). McCoy neglects to mention the threat to Captain Kirk, who gives “Khan” access to the ship’s libraries and implicit access to his crew. Khan takes full advantage of both, reading up on the ship’s structure and defenses as well as aggressively seducing and manipulating the ship’s historian, Lieutenant Marla McGivers.

Eventually research reveals that “Khan” is “Khan Noonien Singh”, who was, as Mr. Spock says, “From 1992 through 1996, absolute ruler of more than a quarter of your world. From Asia through the Middle East.” Khan and the rest of his crew were the product of eugenics experiments that succeeded in making men and women who were stronger, faster, and smarter than the average human. A group who were, or at least who were raised to think they were, the next Caesars, Alexanders, or Napoleons.

The conversation between Mr. Scott, Doctor McCoy, Captain Kirk, and Mr. Spock that follows this revelation is…odd, to say the least. Scotty admits to a secret admiration for Kahn. Kirk calls him “the best of the tyrants” (WHAT?) Even McCoy notes that there were no wars under him unless others attacked first. Only Mr. Spock expresses shock and repugnance at “this romanticism about a ruthless dictator”. There is some suggestion that the others are teasing Spock, trying to get an emotional reaction out of him, but there’s also a note of sincerity in their words that made me intensely uncomfortable.


"C'mon, Spock.  We're just pulling your ears!  You do have to admit, though, that the Nazis had some spiffy uniforms."

Captain Kirk puts a guard on Khan’s quarters, but Khan easily breaks out and, making use of McGivers, he revives the rest of his own crew and easily takes control of the Enterprise. When he enacts a brutal rule, first suffocating the bridge crew when they refuse to give up the vessel to him, then threatening to kill them one by one unless they work for him, McGivers turns on him and saves Captain Kirk’s life. Together, Kirk and Spock take back the Enterprise.


"Who's the superman now, huh?"

Kirk chooses to leave the “supermen” alone on a harsh planet, to try to carve out a colony of their own. McGivers chooses to go with them. I suspect her life with a group of people who believe that she is too inferior even to be good breeding stock will not be a happy one.

As with several other episodes where an arrogant or violent man has gone after a woman, Khan’s relationship with McGivers isn’t particularly romanticized, which I appreciated. He’s shown to be brutal, controlling, and extremely manipulative, which had the majority of the audience in our group revulsed, shouting to McGivers that he wasn’t worth it.


To be fair, Khan is an excellent hairdresser.

On the other hand, the narrative does romanticize eugenics to a distressing degree. Even the concept that the eugenics experiments were actually successful in breeding a group of superhumans is one that is both scientifically implausible and morally disgusting. The very existence of Kahn and his group within the context of the story says that such experiments are not only possible, but that they could work. But even those with only the most basic understanding of dog breeding, for example, know that emphasizing one trait can often lead to other, undesirable ones. [It might be possible to control "breeding" at the cellular level, as is done in Herbert's The Eyes of Heisenberg; that seems a more plausible explanation (ed.)]

Add to this the fact that most of the leadership of the Enterprise seem enamored of the idea of these faster, stronger, better men and women, with only Mr. Spock being the (derided) voice of reason. Even at the end, Kirk says, “What a waste to put them in a reorientation center.” And so they are explicitly sent to the planet not because they are too dangerous to house on a penal colony, but because it would be a “waste” of their strength and potential to do so. This group repeatedly said they were superior to humans. They were arrogant, cruel, condescending, and incredibly dangerous. Yet it would be a “waste” to try to retrain them and to teach them empathy? Wouldn’t attempting to make them productive members of society who don’t believe that they’re superior to everyone else be a better use of their potential?

Space Seed was a well-made episode, and Ricardo Montalbán was excellent as Khan. But the inclusion of genetically-created “supermen”, and the framing of them as anything other than the tyrants and dictators they were, knocked my rating down a little. I give the episode three and a half stars.

Not My Superman


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

When Mr. Spock (or any Vulcanian) sees a Romulan, he can safely think, there but for the grace of logic go I. In "Balance of Terror", he describes the relationship between his homeworld and the people of Romulus:

Spock: And if Romulans are an offshoot of my Vulcan blood, and I think this likely, then attack becomes even more imperative.
McCoy: War is never imperative, Mister Spock.
Spock: It is for them, Doctor. Vulcan, like Earth, had its aggressive colonizing period. Savage, even by Earth standards. And if Romulans retain this martial philosophy, then weakness is something we dare not show.


Spock's distant cousins, the ones we don't talk about

Warfaring, brutal, brilliant, manipulative, brave, self-superior, male-dominated – that describes both Khan Noonien Singh's comrades and the Romulans we have met. In both episodes, we had the pleasure of viewing the crew of the Enterprise meeting their match; struggling, failing, and ultimately overcoming the putatively superior foe. Even the temporary betrayal of Dr. McGivers – under deeply disturbing coercion by Singh – resolves when she frees Captain Kirk.


The historian's equivalent of "the Spock pinch"

Perhaps this comparison is why Spock reacts so quickly and so strongly to the maybe-teasing of the crew about Singh and his comrades. As Janice notes, that scene was uncomfortable, particularly when it immediately followed the brutal conversion of Dr. McGivers to Singh's way of thinking. Just as there was no romance in that scene, like Spock and like Janice, I would have preferred less romanticization about the Eugenics Wars.

But where Spock seems secure in his people's relationship to Romulans as well as confident that unmodified humanity is superior to overbred and overweening demi-tyrants, there is an insecurity humming under the interactions between the humans on the ship and Singh's cadre. Perhaps that is why Kirk does not even try to hold them accountable for their violence against the crew of the Enterprise or integrate them into their society.

I prefer Spock's dismissiveness to Kirk's initial admiration; aside from pretty looks, I didn't find much to recommend Singh as a leader or a "superman."


Not my Clark Kent

Since long before Nietzshe set quaking pen down to yellowing paper, a certain style of man has yearned for the emergence of what have been called übermensch, or supermen. One of my favorite innovations of our century has been the re-working of that concept in comic books like Captain America and of course, Superman. In those, sure, the title characters are as Kirk describes "[s]tronger, braver, certainly more ambitious, more daring." But they are made heroic not by those differences of species and medical intervention, but by Steve Roger's commitment to fighting for the little guy, for defending democracy and freedom, and Clark Kent's dedication to doing anonymous good. Values I cannot see Singh being guided by. Likewise, I cannot imagine Clark Kent – who would easily best any of Singh's cohort in a fist fight with his laser eyes blindfolded and one bullet-proof hand tied behind his back – taking over entire continents of people as Singh did in the far-off 1990s.


A real Superman

A humble reporter; an artist and friend. These are the übermensch I grew-up with. Like Spock, I do not see the value in men like Singh.

But I did value the chance to see this corner of future history so thoroughly explored. I hope, if we ever see Singh again, he will be singing a different tune – maybe something about "truth, justice, and the American way."

Four stars.


by Andrea Castaneda

We all love a good villain. They neither ask permission nor forgiveness as they break the rules, challenging the hero in an effortlessly charming way. Khan is such a villain. And in his short time aboard the ship, he was able to seduce, manipulate, and deceive his way into controlling the Enterprise. This feat, combined with Ricardo Montalbán's phenomenal performance, is what made him such a compelling character. In fact, it would appear that his magnetism not only affected the crew, but also the writers themselves. 

There’s a scene midway through the episode that illustrates this point. When we learn this 20th century guest was actually a former tyrant from his original time, Scotty admits– in an almost giddy way– that he admires him on some level. Kirk echoes this, saying he was in fact the best, though he adds it's what makes him dangerous. It’s a very human sentiment. And I think many of us have fantasized about what it is like to relinquish the restraints of civilized society, taking what’s “ours” as we please.

With that said, I was relieved to see Spock’s shock and horror at how his colleagues romanticized the autocrat. A part of me wonders if Leonard Nimoy’s Jewish heritage played a role in how his character reacted. After all, the very real tyrants from our time, who terrorized the world and sought to wipe out the Jewish community, are not ghosts from very long ago.

It seems that with the buffer of time, we as a society tend to sanitize the actions of bad men from yesteryear. We still acknowledge that a man like Attila the Hun was ruthless. Yet we saw Anthony Quinn play him in 1954, alongside the beautiful Sophia Loren, portraying him as an alluring leader and formidable foe against the Romans. Then we have men like Blackbeard, once considered a dreaded and despicable outlaw of the high seas. Yet today, the pirate has been rehabilitated for family consumption, via Disneyland’s upcoming attraction “Pirates of the Caribbean” (opening next month).


The nicer pirate

I’m not trying to be a party pooper and say people aren't allowed to enjoy those things. Nor am I saying villains should be bland and one dimensional. But it does make me wonder if we will treat the villains from our time, such as Adolf Hitler or Joseph Stalin, with the same sanitized view. It’s a paradoxical standard we seem to return to, where we condemn them for their merciless ways, yet admire them all the same for it. As Kirk put it, “We can be against him and admire him all at the same time.” But it’s important to ask ourselves if we’d feel the same way if those very tyrants placed a boot upon our neck, not once letting up.

Despite my philosophical quandaries, I give this episode four stars. It had its imperfections, but it captivated me all the way through. The audience loves a good villain, and Khan is a great one. I only ask, both to the writers and ourselves, do we condemn these men for the harm they’ve caused or condemn them because they– in the end– lost?


by Gideon Marcus

On the Third Hand

Kirk ended "Space Seed" looking awfully generous.  After all, Khan had just tried to turn him inside out in the vacuum chamber, threatened his true love (the Enterprise), and didn't even thank the captain for sharing his limited stock of Windex.  Yet, instead of sending Khan and his troupe of Hollywood Palace acrobats to Tantalus for rehabilitation, or kicking the problem upstairs to Commodores "Mendez or Stone, Kirk exercises his broad authority to maroon the "supermen" on a rude, backwoods planet.


"We've got this bell; we gotta get some use out of it!"

I don't think this was done as a courtesy or an amelioration of sentence, however prettily Kirk puts this to his prisoners.  The fact is, Khan and his people are dangerous.  They can't be killed–there's only one death penalty on the books.  They probably can't be rehabilitated–Khan's nature is clearly deeply ingrained–and given his magnetic effect (on women and men), chances are they'd just launch a revolution from wherever they were stashed.

So Kirk, instead, used his discretion (and McCoy notes that it's a rather extreme interpretation of his powers), to sweep Khan (and McGivers) under the rug where they can't do any harm.  No muss, no fuss!  It's actually rather brilliant.

However much I admire this creative thinking on Kirk's part, I can't say "Space Seed" was my favorite of episodes.  I quickly grew fatigued of Khan and his imperious nature (not helped by seeing Mr. Montalbán just two days later as a heavy on Mission: Impossible).  I enjoyed Mr. Spock and the 1990s history lesson, but beyond that, the episode left me curiously cold.

Three stars.

It looks like Kirk is traveling to modern Babylonia this week. Join us tomorrow at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific),

Here's the invitation!



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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[February 16, 1967] The People's Choice (Star Trek: "Return of the Archons")

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by Gideon Marcus

Last minute reprieve

If you're just an average, everyday stf-loving citizen, you've probably been feeling pretty secure about the new show, Star Trek.  After all, it's leaps and bounds better than any other SFnal show on TV (e.g. Voyage to the Bottom of the Aquarium, It's About Time (this show got canceled), Time Sink, Lost in Spoof, The Invasive, etc.) Surely if Irwin Allen can get his shows renewed, Gene Roddenberry can, right?

Well, maybe not.  Late last year, the fanzines and club meetings were abuzz.  Seems Harlan Ellison had sent out a written plea, letterheaded by more than half a dozen Big Names in the SF screenwriting biz (self-importantly dubbed 'The Committee') begging trufans to write their local stations, NBC, Desilu, the Pope, etc. voicing their support of the show.  Otherwise, it might not finish out the season and certainly won't get renewed.

This call was met mostly with enthusiasm, though there were cynics.  Thousands of letters were sent (one over-enthusiastic fan conjectured the number was "around a million").  It now appears that Trek will run another season after this one is done. 

There is something of a preemptive quality about all of this.  Talking to astute newspaper-clippers and folks in the know, I learned that Trek was greenlit for a full season back in October, before the alarm was sounded.  Now, I don't think it's a bad idea to tell the powers-that-be how much you like a show to make sure it stays on longer than the usual crud, but I worry that this may have been a bit of crying wolf.  If the network really does plan to axe this lovely new SF show in the future, will they take us seriously then?  Tune in next winter, I guess.

An Orgy of Destruction

Speaking of last-minute reprieves, this week's Trek episode, "Return of the Archons", was full of 'em. 

Investigating the loss of the starship Archon decades before, the Enterprise visits Beta 3, an uncharted world.  The episode begins quite effectively with a cold open: Lieutenants Sulu and O'Neill, in Western garb, are being chased through a nameless 19th Century-style city, completely unadorned with signs or other decoration.  Before Sulu can be beamed aboard to safety, he is zapped by goons in monk robes.  Once aboard the ship, the vivacious helmsman is reduced to a grinning imbecile, now one with "the body".

In perhaps the greatest disregard for sense I've yet seen on the show, three of the most senior crew transport down to investigate.  There, they find a world of zombie people, placid, without will.  Except that night is "Festival", an uncommon but periodic occurrence when the muzzle is removed and people give in to their urge to lust and rapine.  All of this, the mindlessness and the maelstrom, is the will of "Landru", some sort of omnipotent, telepathic God.


Landru.

Some of the Betans are resistant to being "absorbed" into the body, however.  They do their best to help Kirk and co., though they fail to prevent Dr. McCoy (who the captain jarringly keeps calling "Doc" rather than "Bones" in this episode) from losing his mind to Landru.  It is determined that this status quo has existed for 6,000 years, a reaction to a period of world-threatening savagery.  Landru was a real fellow who set up this completely (except for Festival) peaceful and static society to save the people of Beta 3.

It worked, but only at the cost of the human soul.  And, as Kirk and Spock correctly guess, only a soulless entity could create such an order: in this case, a computer of Landru's construction.  When directly confronted, the computer quickly gives up the ghost, and Beta 3 is left rudderless.  A team of sociologists (the Enterprise conveniently has them on hand) stays behind to provide better guidance than LANDRUVAC.

My colleagues will discuss the various elements of this episode in subsequent sections so I'll keep my comments narrow.  "Return" is quite a good episode, utilizing existing costumes and sets (for other Desilu shows, presumably) to get more bang for the budget (though if the Enterprise had a panoply of outfits they got from Bonanza, you'd think they'd have them for other eras, too – would have been useful when they visited modern day in Tomorrow is Yesterday! There are inconsistencies and some areas underdeveloped due to lack of time, but the show flows pretty well.


If only they'd had access to this wardrobe in earlier episodes…

There are lots of messages one can divine from "Return", notably the "computer-driven society is bad" message we've gotten a few times before.  Going deeper, particularly tying in with Spock's noting that the peace and tranquility of Beta 3 is that of the factory, the machine, I discern an indictment of Communism.  "From each according to their ability, to each according to their need" sounds like a good idea in theory, but it robs humans of their individual dignity, placing power solely at the venal top.  Landru's projected image, with his robes and cult of personality, calls to mind Mao and Confucius, with inflexible dogma and inescapable "justice".

Such a society clearly cannot stand.  I wonder, however, if simply toppling the big boss and (mostly) leaving the wrecked culture to fend for itself, is the best way to ensure a future of democratic enlightenment.

Four stars.  It's solid entertainment for all its stumbles.

Silicon life?


by Abigail Beaman

If something does not feel, only does what it is told, and shows no creativity, is it alive? That’s what this week's episode titled, "Return of the Archons", was about. A computer-run colony of people with a very stagnant culture that seemed to be more destructive than helpful. This episode, despite having some flaws, is probably one of my favorite episodes, not only because Mr. Spock looks very dashing in his cloak, but because it digs into what makes a human being alive.


Dashing Mr. Spock.

Society, by definition, is the aggregate of people living together in a more or less ordered community, and from what we know, Landru has not allowed the Betans’ society to thrive. Instead, he has allowed it to stay in this linear pattern, which is nothing more than the same routine every day. Well, that is except for one day, of course, during the Festival, where it seems you are allowed to do whatever (and whomever) you want, without Landru's instruction. But why is the culture so stagnant? That’s simply because Landru is a machine.


Our first glimpse of "Landru".

Throughout the episode, it is suggested multiple times that Landru is not human by Mr. Spock, and as someone who isn’t fully human, he should know. And by the end of the episode, Mr. Spock is right but also somewhat wrong. Landru was a human many years ago, but now he no longer exists as a living creature but is instead a computer, who may have his knowledge but not Landru’s wisdom. While Landru tried to save his people from the ruins of war, by having a machine input and output peace and tranquility above all, he created a machine that prohibited all human creativity and advancements. To put it simply, these Betans are not thinking for themselves as they have a machine telling them what to do and probably how to feel non-stop. It’s even stated by Mr. Spock, after Kirk causes the Landru machine to self-destruct:


“They have no guidance. Possibly for the first time in their lives.”

Free will is the basis of all of humanity. Without free will, we are nothing more than just robots. We are nothing more than what Landru was, awaiting the next input from a human. If you cannot think for yourself and rely on someone to tell you what to do, are you truly alive? That point was underscored by the confrontation between Landru and Kirk talked: Landru could ordered its men to kill Kirk or simply stop talking, but instead, Landru allowed Kirk to tell it what to do. Landru does not have free will, therefore relies on someone to tell it what to do.

Yes, a programmed society IS a dead society, for it contains no individuals. It can not grow from human mistakes. It will stay the same, because that is what it is programmed to do. It is programmed to give you the same result each time. A human can never give you the same result all the time, no matter what you tell them.

That’s why, to me this episode kept me thinking, even in the slower parts of the episode. And just for that, I give it my good old rating of 4.5 out of 5 stars.

But also for Mr. Spock in a smock.

Everything Old is New Again


by Janice L. Newman

“Return of the Archons” was a fun episode, but one that doesn’t hold together well if you look at it too closely. I had to wonder if the story was written to make use of sets and costumes Desilu had on-hand. If so, they did a decent job, making the transitions from Western Town to what looked like Castle Dungeon fairly convincing. Plus, it was fun to see the crew dressed in period costume even if, as The Traveler noted, this was inconsistent with prior episodes.

Garb and scenery weren’t the only things we’d encountered before. From music, to actors, to the very theme of the story, all of these were recycled from other episodes.

Setting aside the Enterprise crewmember regulars, at least one of the townspeople appeared in a prior episode: the old man Tamar, who dies at the hands of Landru’s enforcers, appeared as the illusory leader of the colonists in The Cage (or as most people will remember it, The Menagerie). Re-using actors is common practice, of course, but it’s always fun when one can identify someone that’s been seen before.


“Aren't you Vina's father?” “Of course not! Vina's parents are dead…I mean…Vina who?”

As for music, Star Trek commonly reuses themes written for the first few episodes of the show. I thought it particularly cleverly done this time, with the driving ‘encounter with the Fesarius’ music from the The Corbomite Maneuver used to back the violent ‘Festival’ scenes juxtaposed effectively against the eerie, wailing piece that begins with a descending half step that was first introduced in The Cage/The Menagerie (though viewers not privileged to see The Cage may have first encountered it in other episodes). Themes from several other episodes were interwoven throughout, but those two in particular stood out to me as interesting choices. I especially liked that the piece from The Cage, which has usually been used to introduce beautiful women who are viewed through a soft-focus lens, was instead used to underline how oddly the people of the planet were behaving.

And then there’s the thematic recycling. While it’s not a one-to-one match, there are definite resonances between Return of the Archons and What Are Little Girls Made Of?, the episode where Kirk encountered (and ultimately destroyed) multiple androids. Doctor Korby, or at least his android version, had envisioned a society where all people were turned into androids like himself. When confronted, he cried, “I'm the same! A direct transfer. All of me, human, rational, and without a flaw.” Contrast this with computer-Landru’s words: “I am Landru. I am he. All that he was, I am. His experience, his knowledge.” Consider, too, that computer-Landru built a ‘rational’ society of people who were little more than robots, fulfilling a similar vision to Korby’s dream.

Reusing and recycling can be good if it’s done with cleverness. Just as a skilled tailor can take an old dress and disguise it as a new one with a few alterations, changing the context can make costumes, sets, actors, music, and even themes feel like new and different choices. It’s a good cost-saving measure and an efficient use of what one already has on hand.

But like a dress that’s been altered too many times, sometimes the seams start to show. There were too many questions left unanswered in Return of the Archons for me to enjoy it as much as I’ve enjoyed other episodes. What exactly was the purpose of “The Festival” and how often did it occur? How wide was Landru’s influence – for example, were the people of “the valley” also under his control? (And if not, why did they not seek to free their neighbors from it?) Why were some people immune to Landru’s influence? Why was it so easy for Kirk to break Landru at the end (another parallel with What Are Little Girls Made Of?), despite the fact that his logic didn’t make much sense?


Dialectic at thirty paces

I can come up with answers to all of these questions, and I’m sure you can as well. Sometimes that’s the fun of shows like these: filling in the holes. But leave too many holes and a garment falls apart. I’m afraid that under closer scrutiny, Return of the Archons does just that, which is why I can only give it three stars.

Computer Dating


by Lorelei Marcus

There are many issues that come from a society run by a computer. Of course, there's the lack of will of its inhabitants, as Abby points out. But beyond that, there are serious logistical concerns. Landru's utmost priority is to "preserve the good of the body" or protect the community he is in charge of. He does this by assimilating every one of his citizens into a state of compliance, and then has them walk around all day greeting each other. "A simpler time" indeed.

Assuming there is no labor in this society, and all the infrastructure is produced and controlled by machines (perhaps using energy to matter food converters like we've seen on the Enterprise), then the biggest logistical issue in Landru's society is the production of more people.

(Note: the beings we see are not actually humans but aliens on their own planet with a coincidentally similar biology to us. Despite this, those from the Enterprise frequently refer to them as humans and rejoice in the destruction of Landru because it makes the society more human. Now who's doing the assimilating?)

I believe Landru's solution to the (need for) population issue is Festival Day, one of the great mysteries of the episode. A time when the young adults of the town (the elderly are excused) riot in the streets, breaking windows, setting fires, and generally committing acts of lust and violence alike. It's a horrific display, and one that contrasts jarringly with the normal tranquility.


Kirk's hotel overlooks the Sunset Strip.

There are two explanations for Festival, one being that, while Landru has an immense capability to pressure human minds into subservience, inevitably there will be some, over time, whose suppressed emotions boil over and cause outbursts (or perhaps even turn them into resisters). The Festival allows them to get these out of their system in a directed fashion.

The second explanation: as far as I can tell, there are no interpersonal relationships in this culture, which would lead to a distinct lack of intimate sexual encounters.This would lead to extinction. So Landru kills two birds with one stone, allowing its people to indulge their baser desires on Festival, and nine months later, producing the next generation for Landru to influence. An elegant solution to an inelegant problem. Something that could only be conceived by a machine.

I personally have no opinion on the rightness of Landru's programmed culture, but I do feel the concept had and has a lot of potential for a science fiction setting. I wish Captain Kirk had taken a little more time to explore and understand his surroundings before deciding that destroying them was the only option. Perhaps this episode will inspire more stories with a similar premise, but more fleshed-out worlds. We can but hope.

Three stars.

When you assume…


by Erica Frank

Sigh. Once again: An entity with godlike abilities controls a society where a veneer of peacefulness hides an underbelly of fear and violence. This time it's a soulless computer, not an "evolved" being—but it still treats humans as playthings. Two clichés for the price of one!

I suppose it's difficult to write about benign beings with godlike powers; if they exist, wouldn't they be out helping people and making the galaxy a better place? How would the Enterprise even encounter them, except in a setting like Shore Leave – "here's our vacation resort; enjoy?" But I am so very tired of the variations on "actually, ESP stands for Evil Supremacy Powers."

Setting aside the hackneyed science fiction elements and focusing on the story itself, I thought Kirk missed his mark, and more than once.

When he spoke to Reger and Marplon, trying to convince them to help him fight Landru, he tells them to set aside their fears and "start acting like men!"…as if they were actually humans who grew up in a human culture. Instead, they are aliens who just look like humans, raised in a culture where, for thousands of years, people who show any resistance have their memories and personalities wiped, and become "of the body"—forever lost to their loved ones.

They don't have a context for bravery. They have no stories of heroes to inspire them. They have a whispered legend: Someday, the "Archons" will return to save us. But they have no plan for assisting. Defiance, for them, is secrets and stealth, not confrontation. Yet Kirk expects them to act like human men from a culture that values heroism.


“Did we say 'resistors'? We meant 'rejoicers!' We love Landru!”

Later, Kirk told Landru that the society he'd built wasn't peaceful, but stagnant, that people need creativity and free will. That's true—but he failed to mention the "Festival" of violence and destruction. Why didn't he mention Tula's injuries, the rubble in the streets, the terror and carnage of the twelve hours of Festival? Those seem like much stronger counterpoints to Landru's claim of a "perfect and tranquil" society.

However, even though I sighed at the mind control, and may have yelled at the screen during Kirk's talk with Landru, I enjoyed most of the episode. The blend of an apparent 19th-century culture with "lawgivers" who look like medieval monks was delightful, and I'm fond of "religious kook" language, even when it's obviously forced. Maybe especially then—I did like Kirk's pretense of being "of the body" near the end of the episode.

Three and a half stars. Fun to watch; even more fun to critique.

A Perfect Society—for Whom?


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

The "Festival" scenes from "Return of the Archons" reminded me of a piece by Miriam Allen deFord in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction back in 1956. She was responding to a Saturday Review column by Dr. Robert S. Richardson, where he argued women should absolutely be included on future missions to Mars – as sex toys for the male astronauts. Ms. Allen DeFord deftly picks apart Mr. Richardson's argument, redolent with "subconscious male arrogance," piece by piece, in an article I have laid out in my feminist scrapbook; but it was her successful shredding of his argument that women are emotionally unsuitable for space travel that I thought of most during this week's Star Trek episode.


Women. So emotional.

Ms. Allen deFord writes:

"The notion that women are inherently more emotional and excitable than men is a hoary myth that belongs back in the days of the 18th century 'vapors' and Victorian swoonings. Actually, the convention that induces men to repress every indication of emotion makes neurosis more prevalent among them than among women."


Men. The picture of mental stability.

That see-sawing between repression and violent emotional excitement formed the core of Landru's unbalanced world. But the near-total invisibility of women on Beta Three – with the exception of Tula, the daughter of a saloon-keeper who seems to only have existed to be brutalized during the Festival – was exactly the kind of society that Dr. Richardson had envisioned humanity creating on Mars. One where women's only roles are to be carried off by men, screaming.


Landru takes Beta 3 back to a simpler time: the Neolithic.

I like Ms. Allen deFord's vision better, because it reminds me of the world we are usually treated to on the Enterprise. One which is composed of, as she says: "a bisexual instead of monosexual staff of prioneer observers, investigators, and technicians." It is a future where women are not toys or victims, but living people who sing, study, lead, organize, and live. Where: "Women are not walking sex organs. They are human beings. People, just like men."

Landru's major failure in this episode wasn't just assuming that the best world for his descendents would be one characterized by dull emotional repression, punctuated by scarlet periods of neurotic violence; it was designing a world where women held no meaningful power and were confined to roles which profoundly limited their human potential far below the men in their society.

Here's hoping in the next episode, Lieutenant Uhura gets more than one line and we go back to having fully human women alongside us on our journeys to the stars.


If you squint, you can almost see Uhura in this episode.

Three stars.

PS: I wish some brave soul would collect and republish Ms. Allen deFord's essay and other pieces from her era so more people could enjoy her incisive wit and colorful prose; maybe pair it with some women-centered fiction by Mari Wolf, Alice Eleanor Jones, or Evelyn E. Smith.

Tonight at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific), Hollywood Palace presents Ricardo Montalban and his Amazing Supermen!

Come join us – here's the invitation!



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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[February 8, 1967] Hung Jury (Star Trek: "Court Martial")

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Better Than Perry Mason


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

In Court Martial, we see Star Trek trying on a new genre: courtroom drama. Like a good Perry Mason episode, we have twists, turns, dramatic monologues on the subject of rights, stodgy courtroom pedantry, and a wicked villain who gets his comeuppance before the hour is up.

But it being Star Trek, it added some important layers to the genre. Our Perry Mason – a stolid Luddite named Samuel T. Cogley (Elisha Cook Jr.) – is less dapper and more dogged in his defense of Captain Kirk. Unlike any Perry Mason I can remember, the prosecutor is a woman (Joan Marshall as Areel Shaw), and the four judge panel is played by actors who can trace their family trees to nearly every continent on Earth, including Commodore Stone (played by the excellent Percy Rodriguez), Starship Captain Chandra (Reginald Lal Singh), Starship Captain Krasnovsky (Bart Conrad), and Space Command Representative Lindstrom (William Meader).


A nice cross-section of ethnicity, if not gender

Percy Rodriguez was born in Montreal and is of Afro-Portuguese descent (that gets us three continents right there). Reginald Lal Singh was born to Indian parents in what was then the mainland of the British West Indies and is, as of May 26, 1966 the independent state of Guyana (which gets us two more continents, plus a second count in Europe’s column for the British passport). Then add in the unnamed Ensign who appeared to be of East Asian descent, and we don’t even need to count real-life U.S. Army Colonel Bart Conrad, who as it happens, also worked in several episodes of Perry Mason.

I don’t list these actor’s family histories to distract from their professional credits, but to note that Star Trek manages to reflect our world in ways that many theoretically more realistic shows do not. Afterall, we are a country which first elected Dalip Singh Saund to the U.S. Congress in 1955, and seven years later, appointed Thurgood Marshall to the Second Circuit Federal Court of Appeals, the brave lawyer who argued Brown v. Board of Education before the still all white, all male U.S. Supreme Court. (Perhaps 1967 will be the year at least one of those descriptors changes).


The Supreme Court, in 1962

Today, there are dozens of Black judges serving on the federal, state, and municipal bench – including Vince Townsend, a municipal judge in Los Angeles County who played a judge in the 1963 Perry Mason episode “The Case of the Skeleton's Closet” (and, because the world is tiny, I have heard that Judge Vince Townsend used to be roommates with Judge Thurgood Marshall). So why do we need to look hundreds of years into the future to see judges and captains and prosecutors who reflect our real world?


Perry Mason, in the courtroom

As interesting as the casting was for this episode, the plot itself also held my attention. First, we think we’re about to follow a routine investigation into the tragic death of a crewman. Then his daughter appears, wild with grief and accusatory in speech. Things begin to shift for Captain Kirk, his colleagues turning their shoulders at him, an old flame warning him of impending disgrace, and a trial which forces his nearest and dearest officers to testify fairly damningly against him.

But then in hops our very own Perry Mason, with clever words about rights and the flaws of technology. Cogley convinces the judges to return to the Enterprise where my very favorite moment of the episode happens: a luscious soundscape of heartbeats that is slowly narrowed down to a single, unknown body, stowed away belowdecks.

Well, second favorite; as I am sure Erica will concur, watching Captain Kirk roll around on the floor and tear his shirt on the carpet isn’t a bad use of screen time either (another common Star Trek cliché that Perry Mason never included).


Two absolutely convincing stunt doubles fighting in Engineering

The episode lost most of its tension at this point, as we waited for an increasingly barechested Captain Kirk to corral the previously-thought-dead Lieutenant Commander Finney and stop him from crashing the Enterprise into the planet’s surface.

The little twist at the end, where we discover Cogley has now agreed to represent Lieutenant Commander Finney, was a nice touch.

This episode gave meaty, well-developed roles to Areel Shaw and Percy Rodriguez, giving them space to explore courtroom theatrics and protocols in roles many drama’s casting directors would have given only to white men. Though parts of this episode flagged, that delightful choice carried it through for me.

Rating: 4 Stars.

Wrong Way Street


by Abigail Beaman

While I know a majority of my peers rated this episode highly, I was let down by the ending of the episode. I feel that Trek has worked best when it left me with some warning or moral, and to have it just devolve to fisticuffs and Kirk half naked at the end just seemed to disappoint. And believe me, I like when the cast gets half naked.

Perhaps I was just expecting a different story. "Court Martial" opens up with what we believe will be a man versus machine parable, with Kirk versus the computer of the Enterprise. Instead we end up with man versus man: Kirk versus Finney. I feel like if Marc Daniels had followed through with the theme "don’t trust machines on everything", I would have happily rated this episode above a four.


Computers–who needs 'em?

My biggest issue is with Finney being alive. It raises many unanswered questions. What was Finney’s plan after Kirk got indicted? How did Finney manage to change the computer without being spotted? How did Finney even get out of the pod before it was sent off? How did messing with the data stored in the computer also mess up Spock’s chess programming?

In the end, I was just disappointed and annoyed. While the story started off strong, it ended up crashing in the climax, leaving a sour taste in my mouth. That’s why I rate it 2.5 stars.

Our Perception: what can and can’t we trust?


by Andrea Castaneda

I agree with my colleague, Abby, though perhaps the premise saves this episode a little more for me. “Court Martial” was, to me, one of the more intriguing episodes in the show of the series. We’re presented with high emotional stakes, see a more vulnerable side to Captain Kirk, and take a deeper look into how StarFleet operates. But what I liked most about this episode was how it analyzes man’s perception in contrast to the cold hard evidence of the machine.

The courtroom scene reminded me a lot of Sidney Lumet’s “Twelve Angry Men”. In that film, eleven men of a jury believe a man guilty of murder, but one juror still wants to discuss how there can be doubt. The film goes on to dissect how one’s perception can be warped by emotion, physical limitations, personal beliefs, etc. In the end, they conclude the provided evidence is insufficient, and the defendant is spared from the electric chair.


Twelve Angry Men, perhaps the seminal courtroom drama of the last decade.

This episode shared similar themes. Kirk starts out unwavering in his confidence. But when presented with seemingly damning evidence, he’s shaken. With a defeated tone, he says to himself “but that’s not the way it happened.”

But unlike “Twelve Angry Men”, Spock subverts the idea that man’s memory is inherently flawed. When the prosecution asks him how he could know Kirk did the right thing if he didn’t see him, he states that one doesn’t need to observe him at all times to know he did. Just as one doesn’t need to see a dropped hammer fall to know it has in fact fallen. And while he does concede that this is– at the end of the day– his opinion, his confidence in Kirk is what prompts him to prove the computer is wrong. And of course, he tests the system via chess.

Where the episode missed an opportunity, however, was how they chose to end it. I was hoping that once Spock proved the computer was faulty, it would lead the court to reevaluate the evidence and/or rule that the man’s death was due to a programming glitch. But instead, it’s revealed that the dead man was alive the whole time, and that this was all part of a half-baked revenge plot. He and Kirk wrestle while the Enterprise is set to crash, but Kirk once again saves the day. And with that, what started out as a sober courtroom drama winds up as a James Bond movie.

Ridiculous as that ending was, I still thoroughly enjoyed the mental analysis of the strengths and weaknesses of one’s perception. It gives me as a viewer something to think about once the episode ends. Unfortunately, the conclusion of events– including Kirk’s unprofessional kiss with the prosecution lawyer– compels me to declare “Court Martial” a mistrial.

Three stars.

Lies, Damned Lies, and Statistics


by Lorelei Marcus

"Court Martial" is the second trial-centered episode we've seen on Star Trek, though unlike "The Menagerie" (and many other episodes) there are no God-like aliens or other fantastical features. Which is why "Court Martial" is one of my favorite episodes: because of its focus on technology and its ability to straddle the line between implausibility and familiarity.

The source of conflict in this episode is the malfunction of the ship's "computer". The show portrays this computer as a piece of machinery so complex it can recognize verbal commands, act as an archive of all human knowledge, and even play chess! Yet it's so small that it can fit into a panel console [I think those are just the teletype terminals. Cogley's law computer seems self-contained, though. (Ed.)] This is far more advanced than anything we have today, or anything that could conceivably be developed in the next 50 years.


"Computers. I know all about them."

However, the audience is not totally disconnected from this incomprehensible device because the computer represents more than itself. When Kirk first meets his defense lawyer, he is startled by the lawyer's reliance on paper books over computer banks. In the Star Trek future, physical books are an antiquated and nearly extinct form of information storage. While this is a rather extreme (and grim) prediction, the situation does reflect a trend toward a reliance on technology over physical media happening in our society today.

Rather than read the paper or a novel, we increasingly watch the news or a Western on television. We've long since switched computation work at NASA from "computers" (actual human beings doing calculations) to IBM's metal monsters. It isn't a stretch to see a future where the development of computers alters the very way society operates and exists, eschewing personal bonds of trust and the evidence of the human eye. Someday, we may even leave justice to the computers themselves – after all, they cannot lie, can they?

Except, of course, they can. Because people can, and computers are still, even in the far future, servants of people. That, I think, was the point of the episode, and a good one.

Four stars.

The measure of a man


by Tam Phan (Secret Asian Man)

It doesn’t always feel good to do the right thing, but there’s something to be said about having complete confidence in your integrity when it’s under scrutiny. Kirk walks confidently into most situations as if he always has the right answers. Ben Finney is not Jim Kirk. Without even getting to know him that well, it’s still abundantly clear that the infraction that he received wasn’t the real reason he wasn’t a senior officer.

As the records officer, Finney seemed to be doing just fine. After all, he was an officer aboard the Starship Enterprise. It’s not clear if there are many other starships, but as far as we know, the Enterprise is a very important one. [Last episode, it was revealed "there are only twelve like it in the fleet" (ed.)] If Spock’s and McCoy’s commendations aren't enough to tell us how much prestige is represented in the ship's crew, Kirk’s commendations practically flaunt it. I assume that Finney’s service record must be relatively strong to serve on such a ship, but his actions in “Court Martial” tell us everything we need to know about why he’s not captain of his own starship.


Captain material?

Finney’s ability to sabotage the ship shows us that he’s clearly competent, but his plan lacked any forethought; a trait that is expected in leadership. What did he think was going to happen once Kirk was court martialed? Life couldn’t go back to normal for Benjamin Finney. He was on record as being jettisoned and presumed to be dead. It’s not as if he could return to being Enterprise’s records officer. At the very least, he’d have to escape the Enterprise and go into Richard Kimble-style exile. He didn't even manage to do that!

In short, he didn’t have the fortitude to move on from a decade-old perceived personal slight, instead developing a grudge. He didn’t have the integrity to own his mistakes, and so he blamed Kirk. He failed to weigh the possible consequences of his actions, either in the past or of his current half-baked scheme. But I don't condemn Finney for this. For all of his flaws, Finney is a perfectly understandable character, a human character. I get him, even if I don't grok him, and his relationship with Kirk was poignant and interesting.

In the end, no one is perfect: not the records officer nor the computer he works on.

4 Stars

The Little Black Box


by Janice L. Newman

As a fan of mysteries, I really enjoyed Court Martial. The episode did a good job of building tension throughout, even making the audience second-guess ourselves. One thing that I thought was an interesting touch was the recordings made of the events on the bridge and played back later for the purposes of the trial. We saw something similar in "The Menagerie", but in that case the playback was facilitated by the aliens. In Court Martial the implication is that the recordings are done automatically, presumably for circumstances like those in the episode.

This year (1967) regulations are going into effect that state that all planes must have a ‘black box’ installed—that is, a flight recorder that can help explain the cause of a crash after the fact. Having cameras on the bridge that record everything is a natural extrapolation of this new technology and makes perfect sense. And when the audience ‘sees’ Captain Kirk push the wrong button at the wrong time, even many of us are fooled for a moment, wondering, ‘Maybe he just made a mistake?’


A Soviet flight recorder – a "red box"?

It’s not a perfect episode. The denouement, where Captain Kirk is permitted to face the man who has a personal vendetta against him and engage in fisticuffs, didn’t make much sense. Nor did Finney’s plan: did he plan to hide out for the rest of his life? Was he going to get Harry Mudd to make him a false identity? What about his daughter?

Despite these caveats, I liked the mystery and the story overall, and particularly found the dramatic scene where each person’s heartbeat was screened out to be nail-bitingly effective. It was also refreshing not to be dealing with godlike aliens. I give this episode four stars.

The Return of Shirtless Kirk


by Erica Frank

Other viewers have covered the plot, the characters, and the nuances of the legal system. I'm going to focus on something more fun: The clothing, and occasional lack thereof.

We never meet the people who design Starfleet's uniforms, but they must be very influential. There's so much variety! You'd think people living on a spaceship would have limited resources, but no: everyone has uniforms in several colors and styles.

A trial is a formal event, which calls for formal apparel. Naturally, Starfleet's fashion designers rise to the occasion. First, we get Kirk in his side-wrap shirt, while he meets with Commodore Stone to discuss the accusations against him. This seems to be more formal than the normal pullover uniform.


Kirk's wraparound green uniform


The Commodore's outfit is similar to the Enterprise crew's standard ones, but his insignia is a sparkling flower brooch. Very nice.

Kirk changes back to his gold pullover to meet with an old friend; she's in a wild pink-and-green paisley gown. Later, in the courtroom, she wears a red minidress, very similar to Uhura's outfit, only with another flower brooch. I might have mistaken it for mere jewelry if I hadn't seen the same on the Commodore earlier.


This is what lawyers in Starfleet wear when they're not in court.

Dress uniforms—which is what I assume the officers are wearing in court—are satin, with gold trim, and the insignia is an array of triangular gemstones. They seem to open down the front; I approve of Starfleet's apparent policy that the more formal the outfit, the easier it should be to remove. (I'm glad someone in Starfleet is focused on practical issues.) As one would expect, the Commodore has more sparkles than a mere captain, even considering Kirk's impressive record.


Which of Kirk's triangles is the Grankite Order of Tactics? Is the thing on the side the Prantares Ribbon of Commendation? (Do enlisted personnel just have one or two little triangles?)


He can fight a Gorn on a planet full of gemstone rocks and not lose a thread, but when he's up against anyone he knew at the Academy, he loses clothing. He must have been terrible at strip poker.

This episode raised some questions, like: Why must Spock win at chess to prove that computer records can be altered? But I am willing to look past quite a few loopholes to see Kirk half-undressed and on his knees.

I'm not quite as shallow as that sounds. I'm just aware that we viewers often put more thought into the worlds and societies than TV writers have time to develop. I watch this show to have fun; I enjoy the science fiction elements as best I can, but when they're a bit weak, I am happy to be distracted by petty pleasures.

Three and a half stars. I know too much about the law to give it four.

Week before last, it was I Dream of Jeannie.  Now, it looks like the Enterprise crew will be on Wild, Wild West!  Come join us tomorrow at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific).

Here's the invitation!



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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[January 18, 1967] Temper tantrum (Star Trek: "The Squire of Gothos")

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by Lorelei Marcus

The incomprehensible versus the inconceivable

Alright, I admit it.  My love affair with Star Trek is on the rocks.  I think what hurts the most is that I wanted to love this show.  Everything was stacked in favor of a whirlwind romance: A science fiction premise, a multi-racial cast, serious plot lines, and a high budget.  But ultimately, there's one fatal flaw standing between me and complete commitment.

I can't stand fluffy science fiction.

In other words, I like stories about complex futuristic societies, spaceships, aliens, and wild scientific discoveries, as long as there's some explanation to how it all works!  Books like The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, World of Ptavvs, and Earthblood, to name a few, have given me that satisfying extra layer of realistic depth that I love.  And Star Trek…hasn't.

Sure, there are hints about the operation of a larger universe, and crumbs of detail about how certain technologies work, but for the most part, strange happenings are explained away as "psionic powers" or "extremely advanced technology"

"Shore Leave" was particularly egregious.  The crew stumbled about the whole episode while a third party is teased in the background as being the orchestrators of the situation with the use of some interesting technology.  In the end, we do not meet this third party, but of course, their machines are "beyond human comprehension" and we get no further explanations or analysis of this entirely new alien race.

With all this being said, you may be surprised to find that I did love the most recent episode of Star Trek, "The Squire of Gothos", a story that features psionic powers, hyper-advanced technologies, and not much explanation about how any of it works.

This is entirely due to the subtle difference between the inconceivable and the incomprehensible.  I will explain in a moment.  But first, a summary for those who missed it:

Cruising across a star desert, the Enterprise happens upon an unexpected planet.  Before they can investigate, Captain Kirk and Mr. Sulu disappear from the bridge.  After a quick scan from the ship's sensors, it is determined that the planet's atmosphere is toxic, composed largely of methane, and unbearably hot–normally uninhabitable by human life.  Mr. Spock decides to beam down a party anyway.  I really appreciated this first scene, because it sets up the mystery of Gothos well, and also throws in actual scientific detail.  It also addresses that commanding officers shouldn't be assigned to landing parties (a problem this show has had numerous times).  Spock refuses Scotty's request to be sent down with the party, and he, of course, stays on the ship as well.  Little things, but important ones.


Scotty makes an admirable but inadvisable request to search for the Captain

The landing party quickly groups up with Kirk and Sulu in an 1800's-style house (finally a set other than foam rocks!), which resides in a small portion of the planet with an Earthlike climate.  The entity behind this anomaly presents himself as retired General Trelane (William Campbell), a man in ancient garb who speaks in archaic idiom.  Trelane has been studying Earth from afar, but as one crewmember points out, his information is 900 years out of date–the time it would take light to reach Gothos.  Yet another scientific detail that crucially adds to the story and also, happily, allows us to extrapolate that Star Trek takes place sometime in the 28th Century. [The events of "Miri" suggest Star Trek occurs in the 23rd Century.  Someday they'll get it straight… (ed.)]

Kirk, disgruntled at being taken from his ship by force, demands to be sent back with his crew, but Trelane ignores this request entirely, continuing to play with them.  Thus ensues a long game of cat-and-mouse with Kirk leaving and returning to Gothos three times in the course of the episode.  The Enterprise seems to escape twice only for Trelane's power to prove overwhelming.  Even when they destroy what seems to be the source of Trelane's ability to convert energy to matter and back again, the Squire ensnares them. 

Hoping to at least save his ship, Kirk agrees to a one-on-one game of Hunt with Trelane, so long as he promises to free the Enterprise in return.  Trelane agrees, though at the point of victory, he announces his plans to renege.  With his sword pointed at Kirk, two heavenly beings shimmer into existence to reprieve the captain and reprove their…son?


"Oh hi, mom, dad."

Trelane's posh demeanor falls away, and it is revealed that he is actually much younger than we initially thought (in maturity, at least).  It's a twist, I'll admit, I did not see coming, and which reframed the entire episode.  This is one of the few I'd like to catch in summer reruns knowing what I know now.

So what makes this episode so great?  As hinted at before, it's the little things.  Here's one: when Trelane first meets the landing party, he extrapolates their extractions by their last names and greets them with stereotypes of their nationalities.  When he bows to Sulu, the helmsman scoffs, "You gotta be kidding."  (We all know Sulu is French.  Just watch "Naked Time").  I also appreciated that, when Trelane bows condescendingly to Sulu again later on, it's his fellow (white) crewman that angrily attacks the Squire.  I appreciated that, in the future, racism is both ridiculous and not tolerated–by its targets nor their allies.  The only other show where I've seen this kind of progressiveness is I, Spy, another Desilu production.


DeSalle won't stand for Trelane's bigotry.

Beyond this, this episode never failed to surprise me.  First Spock uses rational thinking to extract the landing party.  Then, when he and his team are captured again, Kirk uses deductive reasoning to determine that Trelane is not infallible, and that his power must be coming from a machine, not the Squire himself.  He maneuvers the situation such that he can destroy it and thus makes an escape.  In any other story, this would have been the end of it.  The hero outsmarts the villain and saves the day.  But Kirk's guess is wrong, or at least incomplete.  In the end, he is saved seemingly by chance alone (though it does seem Trelane's "parents" may have been monitoring their little brat.)

I think it is this twist of orthodox storytelling that gets to the heart of my point.  In most other episodes, the enemy is "inconceivable".  We are told that their powers or their technology is beyond our understanding and there is nothing to be done about it.  In "The Squire of Gothos", we are shown that while some of Trelane's powers can be reasoned at, they are "incomprehensible"; we still cannot understand them enough to defeat him by human means alone.  Paul Schneider, the screenwriter for this episode [and also "Balance of Terror" (ed.)], gives us just enough details to make Trelane believable, even if he is unbeatable.  That's good writing and good science fiction.

I give this episode 4.5 stars.  There are a few flaws, mainly in the drawn-out ending, which also misses an opportunity to expand on the alien race.  There are logical inconsistencies: Trelane doesn't know what food tastes like, but he knows what music sounds like.  Still, I enjoyed it, from the acting to the costumes.  It has restored my faith in Roddenbery's show just a little longer.

Perhaps there is still a chance for my romance with Star Trek after all.


by Gideon Marcus

All the old, familiar faces

I'm still trying to parse my thoughts about this latest outing of the good ship Enterprise.  In many ways, it feels like a patchwork of things I've seen before.  Kirk and crew finding an uninhabitable world, with a terrestrial habitat set up by an enticing but ultimately deadly alien menace, calls to mind Uranus in The Seventh Planet.  The improbable, out-of-time nature of the villain (and good on Trek for landing a guest appearance by Liberace!) seemed straight out of a Lost in Space episode.  The moody cinematography, somehow lending an objectively goofy episode more gravitas than any outing of Nelson's Seaview, as well as the revelation of Trelane's true nature, felt very Serling-esque to me.  And, of course, the Squire of Gothos ("Bothos" according to my paper) appears to be a close cousin of Charlie Evans, who the Enterprise team met in "Charlie X"."


Liberace's latest tour: The Sahara, the Hollywood Palace, and Gothos!

I did feel Kirk could have been more diplomatic at the beginning (his job is to seek out new life and new civilizations), and Trelane's ranting at the end was about twice as long as it needed to be.  It's an episode that shouldn't work, but the professionalism of the Starfleet officers, as well as the actors playing them, sees it through.  And the planet, as seen from orbit, was stunning.  As one 'zine lettercol writer noted, it's like something Chesley Bonestell might have painted.

Three stars.


by Elijah Sauder

Through the eyes of a child

"The Squire of Gothos" explores an interesting concept: how the human species looks to an outside observer. In "Gothos", we see humans (and a human/Vulcan hybrid) through the eyes of a super advanced immature child. I feel this idea could be explored in greater depth.

If there were something, living or otherwise, that could observe us, what would their thoughts of our civilization be? Would it focus on the outward facing, publicly praised bravado and gregarious exploits of our luminaries and stars, or would it take notice of the simple home life? Would it, as the episode suggests, focus on the military exploits and gallant behaviors of the famous members of our species, or would it become fascinated with the social, educational, and working life of the general populace? We may never, nay probably will never know; however, I feel inclined to side with the writers of this episode in that they (this hypothetical super advanced thing) would focus on the glamor and intrigue of the people who have made names for themselves. Maybe that is my humanity talking, but it is what makes the most sense to me.

To me, the introduction of this idea alone is one of this episode's saving graces–I was not partial to the conclusion of the episode, which focused on the immaturity of the antagonist of the episode. As a whole, I feel this episode scores 2.5 out of 5.

Again? That Trick Never Works


by Erica Frank

While Trelane's appearance and setting were unique, I had the distinct feeling we'd met him before… several times. Star Trek keeps revisiting the plot, "someone with godlike powers decides that the crew of the Enterprise is a set of living toys for them to play with; no amount of force or reason can change his mind; instead, a combination of luck and deus ex machina interventions saves the day."

I will set aside, for the moment, the nonsensical background of this episode–an alien who studied humans enough to create a historical house complete with ancient weaponry, but failed to notice that peaceful exploration missions exist. Perhaps Trelane truly is that oblivious, or perhaps he understands that war isn't what humanity is about–but it's what interests him, so he's going to pretend all humans he meets are warriors.

However, I'm growing very tired of near-omnipotent aliens (or humans with alien powers) who somehow have the manners of a bratty five-year-old who's been told he's not getting ice cream after dinner. The recurring message of "with great power comes great vice and great pettiness" is really starting to annoy me. I'd like to believe the future, alien worlds, and exotic technology can bring out the best in people, not just their worst. But aside from that–it makes for a boring story.

We've seen "powerful person decides to ignore both law and local customs, and lacks any shred of empathy" several times: in "Charlie X," in "Where No Man Has Gone Before," in "Dagger of the Mind," and in "What Are Little Girls Made Of?" None of those are bad stories in themselves… but that's almost a third of the show taken up with minor twists on the same theme: "Absolute power corrupts absolutely."

I do hope Star Trek starts showing more variety in its super-powered beings. The alien in "Shore Leave" was a nice start; I'd like to see more like him. I'd like to see less like Trelane, who reminded me of Eros from Plan 9 from Outer Space–I almost expected him to start yelling "Stupid!" at Kirk for not sharing his love for war history.

One and a half stars. Kirk got into a sword fight and didn't even get his shirt ripped.

Diplomacy, Even When It’s Hard


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

I wanted to dive into one small, but I think important part of this episode: Captain Kirk’s complex commitment to peace. We’ve seen an odd mish-mash of military and scientific hierarchies on the Enterprise that don’t clearly mesh with any modern civilian or martial system I’m familiar with. My current best guess is that whatever broader organization built the Enterprise and manages the vast resources necessary to maintain her and her crew is similar in structure to something like the U.S. State Department, with Foreign Service Officers who hold titles directly equivalent to military ranks, or the U.S. Public Health Service, whose commissioned medical officers serve in uniform but are not under another branch of the military.

It is clear to me that while the Enterprise may be armed like a warship, its crew does not think of her as one. As Captain Kirk says in this episode: “Our missions are peaceful, not for conquest. When we do battle, it is only because we have no choice.”

Later in the episode, we see Captain Kirk do battle twice precisely because he has no choice. Up until that point, he avoids direct confrontation as consistently as he can, engaging in diplomacy with a being that seems to have no concept of the idea. (Perhaps if Trelane idolized Napoleon a little less and Benjamin Franklin a little more, he would have understood more of Captain Kirk’s strategies).

But while Trelane is ignorant of diplomacy as a method of connection and conflict resolution, Captain Kirk is not naive to the allure of violence. First in the Hamiltonian-duel and then in the sword fight, he eggs Trenlane on, encouraging him to become more violent, particularly towards Kirk’s own person. As he says: “Then vent your anger on me alone.”

One does worry about Captain Kirk’s habit of inviting violence towards himself. It seems that Kirk’s commitment to peace is institutional and systemic, but not necessarily personal. To put it more simply, the Enterprise’s missions may be peaceful, but Kirk won’t always be.

There are significant limits to standing in front of bullets to hope the other person stops shooting. As Erica mentions, the resolution of this episode was a somewhat formulaic deia and deus ex machina, and one wonders what Kirk’s plan was if Trelane’s parents hadn’t removed him. Keep fighting forever? Keep surviving by what Malcom X (citing Frantz Fanon) would call “any means necessary”? One struggles to imagine Captain Kirk just laying down and dying, particularly not if his crew was still in danger. But we don’t really know what his system of ethics is. As Lorelei notes, we just don’t get much more than hints about the broader universe, the broader way of life that Kirk is reacting to or operating under.

A U.S. Consul serving in an embassy abroad has the same rank as Captain in the U.S. Navy and the U.S. Surgeon General is a three-star Admiral, but I would no more expect a Consul to take up arms than a three-star Admiral to write a peace treaty. But I could see Captain Kirk doing both. Trelane was wrong to assume all humans were war-loving, but there does seem to be some room for violence in Captain Kirk’s “peaceful missions,” if only when it is directed at himself.

I’ll be interested to see more of this world as it develops.

Three stars.

We may get a nice glimpse of a larger world in the next episode tomorrow at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific)!

Come join us!



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