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[December 22, 1967] In all the old familiar places (Star Trek: "Obsession")


by Lorelei Marcus

Out of mind, out of sight

Centuries divide Captain Kirk's escapades to the edges of the galaxy from Captain Hornblower's dashing adventures on the high seas. Still, there remains a structure that echoes across this gap of time, something inextricably human in its tendency towards order and organization. Both the naval ships of old and the starships of the future operate with efficiency and grace due to the rigid military structure their crew hierarchies are built on. Every person has a job to accomplish, and ideally, all will attempt to do so to the best of their ability for the sake of their own lives, and the ship's.


Hornblower is a clear inspiration for Kirk.  In James Blish's novelization of Trek episodes, both Hornblower and Kirk are tone deaf!

What has changed in the days since wooden ships is the enemies that threaten such lives. The British Navy fought against Napoleon's rebel forces, man against man. The Enterprise has similar foes in the Klingons and Romulans. However, there are times when Kirk and his crew must face creatures that are totally alien and beyond human understanding. The results of such encounters rely both on the brilliance and competence of the captain, and mental fortitude of his people.

We see that fortitude tested in Captain Kirk in The Obsession. It begins with a routine planetary survey, as a landing party of Kirk, Spock, and a few security officers explore and analyze the planet's resources. Suddenly, Kirk smells the sickly sweet odor of honey, and goes on guard, calling for red alert and ordering the security men to patrol with armed phasers. His fear is quickly justified as the security team is attacked by an amorphous sparkling cloud. It drains the blood from two of the officers' bodies, killing them, and attacks the third, all before any of them have the chance to fire their phasers. Distraught, Kirk returns to the ship with Spock, before the cloud has a chance to attack them, too.


Occupational hazard.

Clearly shaken by the encounter, Kirk orders the Enterprise to remain in orbit, a direct contradiction of their original mission to rendezvous with the USS Yorktown and collect perishable vaccines for a deadly plague. He chooses to delay, knowing full well it may cause deaths planetside in a Federation colony. Everyone in the crew is startled by this order, but no one dares question him.


A crew aghast.

Kirk attempts another landing party, this time ready to face his unknown foe head on. He brings Ensign Garrovick, a security officer fresh from the Academy with a notable last name. Despite their preparations, two more security personnel end up dead, and Garrovick is relieved from duty for hesitating to fire a split second too long.


Garrovick doing his job.

Concerned by Kirk's harshness, and anxious about the time pressure of their other mission, McCoy and Spock corner Kirk, threatening to label him unfit for duty due to medical reasons. Throughout the episode, Kirk has been hinting to McCoy and Spock both to analyze records from eleven years ago, believing it will justify his actions. Finally, left with no choice, he reveals why: eleven years ago, on Kirk's first deep space assignment as an ensign, his ship the USS Farragut was attacked by an entity just like the one they are fighting now. Two hundred of the crew were killed in the encounter, along with his first skipper–a Captain Garrovick (the ensign's father). Kirk blames himself for these deaths because of his failure to fire at the entity when he had the chance. He insists the creature is sentient and has malicious intent, and claims he communicated with the creature when it attacked him.


Kirk explains himself.

McCoy and Spock are doubtful that what they are facing is intelligent, but they decided to trust Kirk's intuition. The hunt continues. The entity takes to space, and after a thrilling chase, the Enterprise fires every weapon available to try and destroy it. Nothing is effective.

The creature – Spock is convinced it's intelligent now by its behavior – attempts to enter the ship through the impulse vents. It almost kills Garrovick, but they manage to flush the cloud back into space, and the odor it leaves behind tells Kirk it intends to return home to spawn.


Kirk smells something funny.

Kirk sacrifices two more days to return to the planet and risks his and Garrovick's life planting an antimatter bomb, the only way he can think to kill the creature. He is successful, and so sure of it, he need not even check the scanners before returning to his former mission.


Escaping in the nic-o-tine.

There is a strong implication that Kirk formed some sort of psychic bond with the creature after it attacked him eleven years ago. With that in mind, his erratic and illogical behavior begins to make sense. This was not a traumatized Captain lurching blindly for revenge, but rather the one person in the galaxy who could truly comprehend the depths of this creature and the danger it posed. It is a testament to the loyalty of the crew and the validity of a captain's intuition that the Enterprise was able to succeed.

Ralph Senensky's sharp direction and Art Wallace's tight script made for a very strong and thought-provoking episode. The military structure of the enterprise shone through the characters' competence, and emotions were high and tense thanks to excellent delivery from all the leads and Stephen Brooks' (Garrovick) body language. The episode's most spectacular feat was its intertwining of personal, interpersonal, and galactic-scale struggle into one seamless experience that evoked human history and human nature itself.

Five stars.


Respect for the Mission


by Joe Reid

At first, I sincerely hoped that we were not seeing a pattern for upcoming entries in the series.  This was the second episode in a row, last week's episode being “The Deadly Years”, where Kirk’s command was challenged by his own crew, because they saw him as incapable to lead.  Until now the crew of the Enterprise had been incredibly loyal to their captain.  The only time that I remember the crew turning on Kirk of their own volition was early in this season in “Mirror, Mirror”.  Granted that it wasn’t really our Kirk, but a twisted alternate universe version of him.

If I were to use what happened in the last couple of episodes as foreshadowing of what is to come, the future doesn’t look good for the captain of the Enterprise.  In “The Deadly Years”, Kirk’s body and mind started to fail due to rapid aging.  The crew noticed it and were troubled by it, yet they were incredibly hesitant to turn on their captain and Spock had to be forced to hold a hearing to test the competence of the captain.  Even after he proved that he was not capable to lead the crew still refused to vote against him.

In “Obsession”, there seemed to be a lot less resistance for the senior staff to turn on the captain.  This time instead of being forced into a hearing, the crew threatened Kirk with action to remove him from command, because they disagreed with his decision to pursue a smoke monster instead of delivering time sensitive medicine to sick people on another world.


Senior officers confront the captain.

It was nearly unthinkable that the crew would doubt the orders of the captain.  Kirk once stated that when he gave an order he expects that it be followed.  Kirk’s orders have now been receiving a degree of scrutiny that didn’t exist before.  This leads me to wonder where this will all lead.  If the crew started as loyal followers, then became reluctant betrayers, and after that becoming thoughtful opposers, what will they become next as they grow more accustomed to bucking Kirk’s leadership?

If the crew continues to participate in this erosion of respect for their captain I fear that mutiny might be in store for our hero.  Should mutiny darken the bridge of the Enterprise there would only be one person to blame: Captain James T. Kirk.  If Kirk is swept from his position, it will be because he put himself ahead of the mission, when in truth the mission is more important than the man.

If the crew acts against their captain in the future, they will be completely justified in their actions.  They arrested the mirror universe Kirk, held a hearing which ousted the geriatric Kirk, and warned an out-of-control Kirk this week.  The crew of the Enterprise has repeatedly shown that they value the mission first and will support that captain if he guides them to completing that mission.  It is good to see that the crew of the Enterprise will fight to complete their missions, even if they must fight their own captain to do it.

Although not a terrific episode, due to the an arguably slow and repetitive plot, along with strange actions being taken by some characters, Spock included, this was a thought provoking episode showing a counter to previously unchecked power.

Three stars


Tragedy and Truth


by Janice L. Newman

Star Trek is a show that rewards dedicated watching from week to week. Not only do we learn more about the universe our favorite characters inhabit, but every once in a while we learn more about the characters themselves.

We’ve learned a great deal about Captain Kirk over the course of a season and a half. We’ve learned that he was ‘a stack of books with legs’ back in school, and that he was terrible with women; both traits that he seems to have left behind at some point, since we rarely see him reading, and he’s seduced his share of human women, androids, female-shaped aliens, and the like (in fairness, he was usually captured or kidnapped first).

We also learned that he endured a great tragedy as a teenager, having been one of the few survivors of a terrible masacre on Tarsus Four. And in this week’s episode, we learn that, on his very first assignment out of the academy, he survived another tragedy. One can only wonder the guilt that Captain Kirk must have suffered when 200 of the crew and the captain of the ship were all killed, but he survived. Perhaps this survival of two horrific events drove him to take more responsibility. Perhaps it was a crucible that changed him, eventually transforming him from a bookish, awkward young man to the charismatic captain that we all know today. Would he break, I wonder, if he endured what Decker did? Or would his past experience of tragedy make him better able to move forward afterward, as a broken bone strengthens when it heals?

I can’t help but wonder what else we’ll learn about other characters in the future. I would love to know more about McCoy’s, Uhura’s, Sulu’s, or Scotty’s pasts. Hopefully we’ll see some stories that focus on them, not just on Spock and Kirk.

As to the rest of the episode, I was less impressed. It felt too staged, too unreal somehow, with the characters posing more like actors in a play than people living their lives. There are a few standout scenes, the best of which is when Garrovick throws himself on his bed, covers his eyes, and jerks in a convulsive sob before the camera cuts away. But overall there was much I found unconvincing.

Three stars.



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[November 24, 1967] Guess who's coming to dinner? (Star Trek: "Journey to Babel")


by Gideon Marcus

At the World Science Fiction Convention in New York this year, Spock was the man of the hour.  There were no fewer than seven Vulcan costumers at the Ball, and the premiere of the episode "Amok Time" was a much-attended event.  Rumors abounded that there were more Vulcanian surprises in store this season.  It was whispered that one of the upcoming episodes would feature Spock's parents!  Thus, we have been greatly anticipating a second return to Vulcan for the last ten weeks.

Well, Spock's Mom and Pop have shown up, but not quite the way we expected.

D.C. (Dorothy) Fontana has been attached to Star Trek for some time, and her pen has been felt on a number of scripts.  "Journey to Babel", however, is the first one solely credited to her…and it does her credit!

In brief: The Enterprise is transporting one hundred delegates from dozens of Federation worlds to the planetoid Babel, where they will discuss and vote on the admission of Corridan.  Corridan is a low-population, defenseless world that possesses tremendous reserves of dilithium crystals, making it an appealing target for raiders and wildcat mining operations.  Membership in the Federation would offer a stepped up level of protection.


The Enterprise's rec room has become something of a babel, itself

The Vulcan delegation is led by Sarek, a 102-year old pulled out of retirement for this mission.  Accompanying him are two anonymous aides and a handsome middle aged Earth woman, who is introduced as Sarek's wife, Amanda.  Kirk had three guesses as to who the mixed couple might be, and he blew them all.  Of course, they're actually Spock's parents (though the dashing Vulcan ambassador does not look anything like Balok, Spock's comment in "The Corbomite Maneuver" notwithstanding.)


Maybe the resemblance is in personalities…

Sarek and Spock are estranged, for Spock chose a career in Starfleet over one in the Vulcan Science Academy.  And, Vulcans being the super-logical creatures they are, they have mastered the art of snubbery and pouting.

However, events quickly overcome petty family squabbles.  One of the delegates, the abrasive Tellarite named Gav, is murdered, and Sarek is the prime suspect.  This slaying may have something to do with the mysterious super ship that is tailing the Enterprise, capable of an astonishing Warp 10.  Finally, Sarek himself succumbs to a heart attack, and only surgery facilitated by a transfusion from his son's blood can save him.  But Spock cannot leave his post, for Kirk has been stabbed by one of the Andorian delegation, and he can't take the center seat.  Cue dramatic music.


"Dear diary.  I finally get to run the ship.  I hope Jim takes a long time to recover so I don't have to save my mean ol' dad!"

There is a lot to like about this episode.  Mark Lenard, whom we last saw as a Romulan commander in "Balance of Terror" (as well as two Mission: Impossible roles as a "Latin"), gives a fine turn as a reserved but not emotionless Vulcan.  We get a little more breadth to Nimoy's performance with his more relaxed interactions with his mother.  DeForest Kelley is a real stand-out this episode, even getting the last line of the show.


"I finally get the last word.  Take that, Bill and Leonard, you primadonnas!"

The tense battle scenes on the bridge are excellent, and it was a delight seeing all the alien races.  I was particularly impressed with the Andorian ambassador; the blue-skinned aliens appear to be a tonic to the Vulcans, prioritizing violence, passion, and pecunious aims.  Chekov, Uhura, Chapel all get relatively meaty roles (though Sulu and Scotty are completely absent).  And Shatner manages to turn in a more first-seasoned performance…minus the flying posterior attack he uses to dispatch his Andorian assailant.


The captain suffers a grievous wound after using his "flying posterior attack" on his assailant

On the other hand, the episode has rough bits.  The editing is particularly choppy, with the aforementioned Andorian/Kirk attack coming out of nowhere and some dialogue scenes being cut abruptly.  The musical score is almost entirely from the library.  This could be fine, except the musical pieces are all highly evocative of their origin.  I kept expecting the attacking vessel to be a giant cornucopia, and when Sarek arrived, I expected they were about to enter a parallel dimension.

I've come to get a feel for my Star Trek directors.  This season, Joseph Pevney and Marc Daniels have essentially alternated the past dozen episodes.  I much prefer the avante garde latter to the staid former.  Whenever Pevney is at the helm, I know I'm going to see a more stagey, less dynamic episode.  It may be him to blame for Miss Jane Wyatt's particularly flat performance as Spock's mother.


"I'm just here for the free drinks and blue fruit…"

Nevertheless, I have a largely favorable impression.  Two concurrent plots were resolved nicely, many characters got to shine, and the scope of the Trek universe was expanded tremendously.

Four stars.



by Joe Reid

How Do You Say Love in Vulcan?

We have come to regard Vulcans as stoic and emotionless.  Star Trek so far has provided two examples of what feelings of love, and emotions in general, exist in the complex Vulcan heart.  The first was from season one’s “This Side of Paradise”, where we saw Spock expressing love and, dare I say, happiness as his emotional walls were toppled by a mind-altering spore.  The second example being this season’s “Amok Time”, when Spock was driven mad by his Pon Farr.  Showing intense emotional outburst, deceit, anger, and violence from Spock in his efforts to get to Vulcan to marry and mate driven by the intense hormonal assault.  This week’s episode gave us our first untainted look at Vulcan emotions.

If we have learned anything from Star Trek it’s that Vulcan are quick to point out that emotional responses are a human failing.  That Vulcans do not experience such things, because they are guided by logic.  “Journey to Babel” painted a different picture, showing that Vulcans can hold long grudges, feel pride, display tenderness, love deeply, express frustration, and even engage in humor.  They do indeed experience emotions, though usually filter responses to their feelings through a rubric of logic.

During introductions, Sarek completely ignored Spock.  Kirk asked Spock to give them a tour, and Sarek’s response towards Spock bordered on contempt, asking Kirk for a different guide.  It was later revealed by Amanda that Sarek disapproved of Spock’s choice to join Starfleet over the Vulcan Science Academy.  Sarek not only scornfully held a long grudge when Spock didn’t meet his expectations, but rudely expressed that disappointment at the introductions.  His behavior was clearly an emotional response.


"Son?  I have no son."

Spock’s mother was a standout character this episode.  She was unapologetically human, while showing full acceptance of her Vulcan husband and his role as a planet’s ambassador.  Amanda was full of mirth, caring, prudence, tenderness, and above all loyalty, demonstrating an almost perfect example of the best of human qualities.  Through his interactions with Amanda, we saw Sarek’s love.  Humans show togetherness by holding hands.  The Vulcan version is a gentle touch using only the index and middle fingers.  A connection held up at the level of their hearts, not buried at the level of their loins, as is the case with humans.  In almost every scene we were graced with this passionate and public, yet tender, expression of love and commitment from Sarek and Amanda.

Although guided by logic, Vulcans are easily as emotionally complex as humans.  Though Sarek disagreed with Spock’s Starfleet decision, he said to his wife that Spock deserved to be shown the respect of a Starfleet officer and that she shouldn’t embarrass him, showing both Sarek’s pride in Spock and acknowledgement that Spock can feel embarrassment.  Regardless of Sarek's brusqueness, Spock devotedly argued with Amanda and McCoy for the operation to save Sarek’s life.  Even though Spock and Sarek shared few words during the episode, the final scene had them joking about why Sarek would marry such an emotional woman.  An exchange followed by two fingers touching between Spock’s loving parents.

What stood out in this cloak and dagger episode filled with alien faces were the loving emotions of a Vulcan-Human family.  A tender flower rooted amid a warzone, and I found it most acceptable.

Five stars


And introducing Mr. J. North, our new resident menace…

The Religious Subtext


by J.M. North

My scope of the Star Trek universe has been so far limited, having started watching in the middle of season 2. This episode, regardless, seems like it would be exceptionally revealing even for those who are caught up in the series. What I have verified is that this is the first appearance of the Corridians, Andorians and the Orions, as well as of Spock’s mother and father and a number of other alien races. There is dialogue throughout indicative of The Federation and Star Fleet’s domain throughout the galaxy, and revealing of its ultimate alignment with the Vulcan ideals of scientific discovery, peace and fair interplanetary-cooperation. In the episode prior, Captain Kirk reveals in a discussion with Zefram Cochrane that mankind has settled up to 1,000 extraterrestrial bodies besides Earth, my own first indication to the extent of humanity's advancement as a species. This episode provides my first indication of the influence of the Federation and its true purpose as a diplomatic conference, as well as its relative advancement compared to other species–notably the Orions with whom Kirk is impressed for using the same phasers as Star Fleet.


The Orion strikes!

In the episode prior there is a possible, easily dismissed reference to the bible when Zefram Cochrane considers planting a fig tree after his conflict with the Companion is resolved, symbolic perhaps of forgiveness, love or peace, or something abstract as the fig is mentioned in all sorts of contexts in the bible, which I would indeed dismiss if not for the much more evident reference to Christian canon in this episode. Journey to Babel, the title of which is unmistakably an allusion to the Tower of Babel story from Genesis, and the plot no doubt a representation of God’s subsequent punishment for man: the confounding of language and onset of war before the great flood. I find the thematic parallels to be quite compelling.

It is poetic how the sci-fi context is used to discuss biblical themes; well-written inter-stellar geopolitics provide the basis for a potential war between the adolescent Corridian race, the advanced planet-mining race of Tellarites and the provocative, warlike Orions, conveying the ultimate theme of division and conflict among races from the namesake parable. Rather than the confounding of language (thanks to universal translation), conflict arises by the confounding of ideas for how to treat the Corridians. The Tellarites are forward about their lack of support for Coridan’s admission to the Federation, and their desire to poach the planet clean, while the Orions seek to promote this conflict between them into an all out war that they could profit off of by selling to both sides.

Further compelling to me regarding this biblical theme is the discussion of the genesis of a new primitive race; the Corridians, and their comparison to other civilizations, and further their advancement by joining the Federation. Consider biblical canon; genesis of the human race in Eden, enslavement of the Israelites by the Egyptians (poaching of Corridan by the Tellarites?), following the advancement of society into the time of Rome. What I’d like to watch for now is if this religious subtext prevails throughout the show, or if it is just these two episodes that happen to have been inspired by biblical themes.

Five stars for good writing, a rich galaxy, and savvy biblical adaptation.






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[November 16, 1967] Star Trek: "Metamorphosis"


by Lorelei Marcus

What Ever Happened to Commissioner Nancy?

The tomfoolery of "I, Mudd" was a delight, but I'm personally more of a fan of the serious episodes that delve deeply into the drama and science. The preview for this week's episode presented a new planet, mystery, and even new characters–how exciting!

"Metamorphosis" begins with Kirk, Spock, and McCoy on a Galileo shuttle craft, escorting a civilian woman back to the Enterprise. The woman is Nancy Hedford, Commissioner for the Federation, who was acting as a diplomat to prevent war between two colonies before she was pulled from her task after contracting a rare but deadly disease. She must be treated within the next twenty-four hours or she'll die.


Commissioner Hedford, after her promotion from the city council of Mayberry

I'm always pleased to see new competent female characters on Star Trek, and here's one that isn't set up to be a love interest for Kirk. Unfortunately it doesn't seem like her character is going to last long. Almost immediately, the shuttle craft is hit by a strange energy beam and is pulled towards an asteroid with its own atmosphere, almost exactly like that of Earth's. Spock theorizes that the planetoid is a fragment from a larger planet that's been split apart. That still doesn't explain how such a small celestial body could retain its own atmosphere, but perhaps there's some supernatural reason for it that they will explain later.

Hedford understandably begins panicking and orders Kirk to put the craft back on course. It's a fascinating contrast to see her civilian reaction compared to the coolheaded and seasoned Enterprise crew. Unfortunately, despite Kirk's best efforts, the craft is still forced to land on the asteroid, and thanks to a powerful dampening field, cannot take off again.


The Galileo Four

Soon after they land, something – or someone – calls to the party and begins to approach them. It turns out to be a young man in a jumpsuit, reminiscent of the Federation uniform, but clearly older in style. The man is amiable, and he seems relieved to see other people again. He recognizes Spock as a Vulcan, but he takes particular interest in Hedford because she is a "beautiful woman". Hedford, twenty-three hours away from death and stuck on an asteroid in the middle of nowhere, brushes off the advance irritably.


Disdain at first sight

The man takes the party to his home, a building he apparently built with the scraps of his ship which was pulled to this planetoid like the Galileo craft. Except, it's revealed, that his ship crashed 150 years ago and he's actually Zefram Cochrane, the original inventor of warp drive! Cochrane explains that at age 87 he took a ship into space to die, but he was discovered by an alien being which drew him to this asteroid and forced him to live there with it. The alien, which he calls the Companion, restored his youth and stopped him from aging, and he's since built a life here with his newfound immortality. (And he was able to grow crops to sustain himself, despite the asteroid's soil comprising almost entirely nickel and iron, but perhaps the Companion had something to do with that).

Kirk's craft was brought here because Cochrane told the Companion he would die of loneliness without other humans in the hopes of being freed. Instead the Companion brought the humans to him, and now refuses to let them leave. Hedford's fever worsens, and she breaks down hysterically, disgusted by the idea of being trapped and forced to be someone's consort.


I wouldn't be too happy, either.

Forced into action by Hedford's deteriorating condition, Kirk begins to think of a plan. The Companion is intelligent and can communicate with Cochrane fairly fluently. It also appears to be composed of raw electricity, and possesses great healing properties if Cochrane's de-aging is any example. Of course the only way to deal with a one-of-a-kind, sentient, all-powerful creature like that… is to kill it! (What is that speech that Kirk gives in the intro? Something about seeking out and exterminating new life and new civilizations? I can never remember.)

Spock conveniently pulls out his electric impulse scrambler (I can only guess where he keeps it), and their attack on the Companion goes about as well as you might expect. Kirk and Spock almost die and are saved only by Cochrane's intervention. McCoy gently suggests to Kirk that perhaps they could try negotiating with the alien instead of hurting it. Kirk agrees that the negotiation sounds like a good idea, and he orders Spock to adjust their universal translator to work on incorporeal beings.


Yes, maybe talking is the better option.

One cut later, and Spock's magically gotten the translator to work. Kirk explains that the alien's voice from the translator will be interpreted as however the creature perceives itself; what a surprise when the voice that comes out is female. Cochrane is dumbfounded, "how can that be possible?"

Kirk makes the point that male and female are universal concepts that apply to all living creatures, and obviously this creature is just female. (I guess he forgot about his basic biological studies and the numerous asexually reproducing living creatures: single celled organisms, plants, certain lizards, Talosians…)

Anyway, because of the Companion's newly discovered sex, Kirk makes the completely baseless assumption that the creature is romantically in love with Cochrane and that is why it sustains him. Cochrane, despite having the wisdom of two entire lifetimes, and living the better part of that time with this creature, finds the possibility of being loved by an alien absolutely disgusting, and he completely rejects the Companion.

Just then, Hedford cries out, and everyone remembers that she exists. On the verge of death, she makes a moving speech lamenting that though she lived an accomplished life with a successful career, she will never get the chance to love romantically or be loved. How selfish Cochrane is, for receiving such a pure form of love and then rejecting it because of his own biases.


I never had time for love because I stop wars for a living.  What's his excuse?

Kirk tries to negotiate with the Companion one last time, in the hopes that it might possibly free them to save Hedford's life. Except, instead of actually discussing a deal and offering the Companion literally anything, Kirk pulls his Kirk logic on the alien and convinces it that the only way for the Companion's love and Cochrane to coexist is for the Companion to be human. I think it would've been simpler to ask if the Companion could just let McCoy and Hedford go so they could save her life, and then he and Spock would stay behind to keep Cochrane company until the Enterprise could return and sort things out. Just me?


The Garden of Zephrem.

Of course the Companion disappears, and then shortly after a completely healed Hedford appears, restored by the Companion who has now occupied her body. Hedford walks towards Cochrane and explains with the Companion's voice that if not for the alien's intervention, Hedford would have ceased, but now they coexist inside her body and are both there, and are both in love with Cochrane. Cochrane instantly gets over his xenophobia now that his lover has a female body, and they decide to stay on the asteroid and live happily ever after together. Oh yeah, and by possessing Hedford's body, the Companion gave up her immortality and Cochrane's with it, and also she can't leave the asteroid because it's the source of her life force, so they are actually stuck there for the rest of their lives. But now they can spend the next 100 years planting fig trees and having sex, so it all works out.

And what about the intergalactic war that Hedford was supposed to stop? Well, in the words of Captain Kirk, "I'm sure the Federation will find some woman, somewhere to stop it."

This episode was so frustrating because it started with so much promise, and then failed in every regard at the ending. I was intrigued to see how they would handle the psyche of a 200-year-old man, and also the relationship between a human and a non-humanoid alien. The writer and Glenn Corbett's performance did neither of these subjects justice. Shatner's performance was particularly stilted, to the point where I had trouble following what he was saying at many points. The pacing started off sharp, but began to meander as the characters made stupider and stupider decisions, and the focus jumped to fun but unnecessary scenes on the Enterprise. But what bothers me most of all is the tragedy of Hedford's character framed as a happy ending.


Not necessarily a happy ending.

The companion speaks for Hedford at the end, and while it claims that both of them are there in consciousness, there is no evidence to justify it. All of Hedford's personality, her tenacity, her drive to complete her duty, and her anxiousness to return to her very pressing work, are gone after she is possessed. Presumably, she really did die on that asteroid, and all that remains are her body and her memories, which the companion takes advantage of to its own end. Or perhaps more horrifyingly, Hedford is still there, but so overpowered by the Companion that she is imprisoned in her own body, doomed to be the slave of this alien and its lover.

I can only hope that this type of story is a fluke, and will not become a standard for Star Trek.

Two stars.



by Joe Reid

Who’s Fooling Who?

It is often the case that at the end of an episode you are left with all of the answers to the questions that were posed in the show and a reasonable conclusion to the adventure of the week.  The intelligent heroes are drawn to a place.  In that place they discover a mystery.  They use the powers and abilities at their disposal to solve that mystery and are rewarded.  The rewards are treasure, or freedom, or their own safety, or that of the ship.  It’s been a reliable formula that I’ve never had reason to doubt, until this week’s episode.

We never doubt what we have seen, because Kirk and Spock directly tell us exactly what is or has happened.  In “Mirror, Mirror”, Kirk told us that the crew has traveled to a parallel universe.  In “The Changeling”, Spock told us the origins of the space robot named Nomad.  “The Doomsday Machine” had Kirk telling us that the giant space funnel was an ancient planet killing weapon that got out of control and destroyed its creators.  How in space did he know that?  More importantly, what if Kirk was wrong in some of his musings?

We ascribe superior intelligence to characters in sci-fi: they are smarter than us, and smarter than whatever baddy they face.  What if this time, instead of our heroes understanding, and outsmarting the baddy, it was the creature who outsmarted the members of the crew?


One smart lady.

“Metamorphosis” featured a powerful entity.  “The Companion” finds an 87-year-old man, Zefram Cochrane, who may or may not have been dead when she found him.  She rejuvenates him to the prime of youthful manhood, feeds him, and keeps him from going insane for 150 years.  She communicates with him in a physical way, enmeshing herself among his very cells.  She must have been pretty advanced to do that.

When the Companion discovered that “the man”, Cochrane, needed female companionship, she reached millions of miles into space and located a vessel containing a dying human woman which would provide the means for her to personally meet the needs of the man.  She grabbed the moving shuttle craft, and by power of force drew it several millions of miles to be stranded on her little asteroid.  If that wasn’t powerful enough, when the Enterprise started to search for the lost shuttle, they discovered a trail from the shuttle to follow.  The Companion, millions of miles away, made the trail vanish.  This creature possessed the ability to manipulate living and inanimate matter on a cellular level from a vast distance. 

As our heroes attempted to communicate with the companion, we thought we were shown a creature that demonstrated the intelligence of a child in her understanding of humans.  A creature that they had to guide to an understanding of humanity using their superior intellect.  What we really saw was a creature so smart that it guided the heroes down a path where they felt accomplished, but it met its own agenda.  All without threatening the Enterprise or killing anyone.

In the end the Companion was able to convince a 230 year old man to love her, everyone else that she was not a threat, and she convinced a dying, love-starved woman to allow her to possess her body.  This episode posed a challenge to the assumption that we understand the story as it is portrayed on the screen.  “Metamorphosis” gave me the satisfaction of doubt at the conclusion.  I liked it.

Four stars.


Boring Sex(es)


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

As I watched "Metamorphosis," I found myself thinking of fig wasps. In my evenings and weekends, I run a small community garden on a church campus; a volunteer fig tree grows long and tall between the fence and the tool shed. When Mr. Cochrane mentioned wanting to plant a fig tree, I figured he was referencing this line:

"But they shall sit every man under
his vine and under his fig-tree;
And none shall make them afraid;"
(Micah 4:4, Tanakh, New Jewish Publication Society of America; a similar quote can be found in 2 Kings 18:31-32 Christian Bible, Revised Standard Version)

The thing about fig trees is they require pollinators. Trees can't ask other trees on dates – or kidnap them for 150 years to flirt with them in incomprehensible energy being ways – so they rely on wind or other species for reproduction. Many trees are self-fertile, meaning the adventuring pollinator need only traipse from one blossom to the next on the same branch, finding different reproductive parts at every turn in a complex mosaic. A few dioecious trees segregate these roles tree-by-tree, but most are self-fertile and don't break into easy categories like "male" or "female."

In general I find, the more I know about plants and pollinators, the less concepts like "male" and "female" mean anything at all.


"Yes. The matter of gender could change the entire situation."

Take figs, as Mr. Cochrane so clearly wants to. Figs can only be pollinated by a tiny wasp who crawls through their fleshy outsides to get to tiny flowers inside, sometimes ripping its wings off in the exercise because the fit is so tight, and spreading pollen as it goes. You see, the fruity flesh we love to eat on toast or in jams is not actually a fruit, botanically speaking, but mushy flowers. The wasp repeats this journey from flower to flower until, exhausted, it lays its eggs and dies inside the fig, to be consumed by those flowers. One portion of the baby wasps – once they metamorphosize from eggs to adults and mate with their own siblings – will live and die without ever leaving that fruit, spending their entire lives carving tunnels for the other portion to escape and continue the cycle.

I don't know about you, but very little of the above sounds like human sex to me, whether the act or the category.


"The idea of male and female are universal constants."  Really?

Still, human scientists often slap labels like "female" on the wasps that climb into figs and "male" onto those who never leave them. They even do so for other pollinators for whose societies those categories fit even less well, like European honeybees, who have at least three clear reproductive roles, and for whom scientists have weirdly assigned "male" to two of (drones and workers) and "female" to the third (queen). The nature I work with every day is vastly more creative and varied than "male" and "female" – a fact which Jewish scholars know well, as the Talmud references up to eight sexes (zachar, nekevah, androgynos, tumtum, aylonit hamah, aylonit adam, saris hamah, and saris adam).

What about an alien society with three sexes, or eight, or none at all, or one who relies on star-blown space ships for their own reproduction? What if Hedford's death had been framed as part of the life-cycle needs of the energy being and not the pale nothing it was?

Now that is science fiction I would love to watch.

As Lorelei points out, this episode had so much promise. While I don't expect television writers to love the complex realities of Earth's natural world in the way that most gardeners do, I do expect them to do even the most basic of research about the world we all share every day, rather than slapping labels on alien life in ways that limit our imaginations rather than expanding them.

Two stars.



The next episode of Trek is tomorrow! Apparently, we're going to meet Spock's parents…

Come join us!



[November 2, 1967] Trouble and Toil (Star Trek: Catspaw)

Such stuff as dreams are made of


by Joe Reid

For the first several episodes, this second season of Star Trek was solidly impressive.  We got to attend a Vulcan wedding.  We saw a mythological deity from human antiquity in a sci-fi setting.  We saw a transistorized deity faced and defeated.  Then a dark alternate universe, followed by a giant cornucopia of doom!  I regret that I must mention the episode with the red colored rock lizard worshippers, since that was undoubtedly the low point of this season.  Sadly, this week’s episode, titled “Catspaw” comes very close to hitting the low that “The Apple” achieved.

Dear readers, in my opinion, futuristic sci-fi shows should avoid doing holiday themed episodes.  I have no desire to watch sci-fi episodes about Christmas or Thanksgiving.  Nor Easter, the 4th of July, Passover, Saint Patrick’s Day, or Columbus Day.  So, watching what clearly stood out as "made for Halloween" was disappointing.  Especially since I do not feel that the episode was served by the inclusion of said theme.

We started this seventh episode of the second season on the bridge of the Enterprise as our heroes awaited a report from the landing party composed of Scotty, Sulu, and a Crewman Jackson.  A message came in from Jackson, with no word about the others.  As Jackson beamed up to the ship, he arrived on the transport circle dead on arrival.  Then from the non-moving mouth of the dead man came a ghostly warning to leave the planets and that the Enterprise was cursed.


"There is a curse on you!  Also, you've left the oven on"!

Determined to find out the fates of Scotty and Sulu, Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock, and Dr. McCoy beam down to the planet to find their people.  Arriving on the surface they find that it was a dark and foggy night.  What comes next, I was not expecting: As the trio begin their search, they are confronted by three ugly witch apparitions, and wouldn’t you know it they have a poem to share.  “Winds shall rise, and fog descend, so leave here all, or meet your end.” Poetry so bad that it even garners a negative review from Spock.


"Hail Captain Kirk, Thane of Cawdor!"

If that isn’t a blatant enough holiday reference, Kirk and the others soon find themselves at a dark and eerie castle.  Upon entering they are startled by a black cat which leads Kirk to make the first explicit Halloween reference of the night about trick or treat.  They follow the cat hoping to see where it would lead them only to be knocked unconscious as the floor collapsed below their feet.


"There's my litter box!"

They awaken to find themselves chained to the walls of a dungeon next to a skeleton that looks exactly like what it is: a Halloween decoration, or maybe a model skeleton from my kid’s science classroom.  As the doors to their cell open, we get our first looks at Scotty and Sulu as they enter the dungeon.  Both are under some sort of magic spell and can’t speak but make it clear that they will take Kirk and the others to the people in charge.


I hope they weren't paid by the line for this one…

They meet two aliens that have taken the forms of a wand-sporting wizard named Korob, and the beautiful witch, Sylvia.  Kirk, Spock, and McCoy find themselves at the mercy of powers that could endanger the Enterprise in orbit, conjure items out of thin air, and mind control their crewmembers.


Korob and Sylvia–a tale of two coiffures

It is here that the spooky themes began to subside as the magicians reveal themselves as truly alien, with little understanding of humans or even having physical bodies.  They need humans and our minds to allow them more of the new experiences that they had created.  An interesting premise, but since this is Halloween, it is drowned in hocus pocus.

In the end, Kirk is able to learn about and destroy the magic wand…er…transmuter, the item that allowed their powers to work.  The defeated aliens returned to their original forms and promptly die.  The conclusion of the episode comes fast with virtually no transition, save for a brief explanation from Kirk to his newly liberated crew.


"The missing pages of the script are right there."

Outside of the unnecessary holiday theme, this episode managed to stay true to the elements of what makes Star Trek good.  The characters' behaviors were consistent with what we have come to expect.  Kirk was smart and brave.  Spock was insightful, and others, so long as they were not mind controlled, behaved as they should.  Also the aliens had actual, explained reasons for their actions. All this combined made this episode passable and not the absolute debacle that “The Apple” was.

3 stars.


A fool thinks himself to be wise


by Janice L. Newman

It wasn’t a surprise to learn that the same author who wrote "What Are Little Girls Made Of?", one of the worst episodes of the first season, also wrote "Catspaw". Robert Bloch is famous for his horror writing, particularly the movie Psycho. But his horror fantasy scripts simply do not translate well to the grounded science fiction of Star Trek.

"Catspaw" was a frustrating experience. Not just because it didn’t feel at all like a Star Trek episode (and naysayers in the fanzines will no doubt comment, as they did with "Miri" in the first season, that they happened to catch this episode and weren’t impressed), but also because it had the potential to be an interesting episode but simply couldn’t make it work.

Firstly, the idea that the ‘collective unconscious fears’ of our species would be reflected in a gothic castle, Shakespearian witches, and black cats, is simply ridiculous. If there is some kind of collective unconscious for humanity, the reflection of it must necessarily be both much more chaotic and universal to the human experience. This flaw could have been overcome either by saying that the aliens drew their ideas of us from our popular culture, or perhaps that they drew on one particular crewmember’s unconscious fears. Alternatively, rather than using the traditional gothic symbolism, the show could have tried something more innovative, imagining what might frighten any human anywhere throughout all of history.

Another flaw was the pacing. The scene of Sulu unlocking everyone’s chains took far too long, for example, while the final scene felt rushed. The scenes on the bridge were dull, especially with the wooden DeSalle in charge.


"I am acting!"

A particularly annoying problem with the episode was that it set up situations to be resolved and then didn’t follow through. The most egregious example of this occurs when the bridge crew finally manage to ‘dent’ the forcefield around them—only to have the forcefield lifted by one of the aliens before they can escape it on their own. While I would have been mildly irritated at the similarity to "Who Mourns for Adonais?" if the crew had cleverly managed to escape, I was far more irritated that the crew was set up to escape and then not given the opportunity to do. What was the point of those scenes on the bridge, then?

The ‘horrific’ aspects to the story often came across as comedic instead. Perhaps the ugly witches might scare a young child watching the show, but the room full of adults I was watching with chuckled at their appearance and their sung proclamations. One of the saddest pieces of wasted potential was the aliens’ true appearance. They looked like little birds made of pipe cleaners, and when they came on the screen they got the loudest laugh of the evening. A scene which could have and should have been poignant or grotesque was again turned comedic by poor writing, pacing, and framing.

I’m torn as to what rating to give this episode. On one hand, it didn’t even feel like an episode of Star Trek. On the other, there were some interesting elements, and it wasn’t confusing like "The Alternative Factor" or dully exasperating like "The Apple". Plus, there was a cat. Still, when all is said and done, the wince-inducing scenes between Kirk and the Sorceress canceled out what good there could have been. I can’t give it more than one star.


Signifying Nothing


by Amber Dubin

It's ironic that this episode is called "catspaw" because the plot is about as cohesive as a heavily pawed ball of yarn; a tangle of threads that don't hold together or go anywhere.

The acting quality of the episode peaks early with the deeply convincing collapse of ensign Jackson off the transporter pad. Yet the fact that he is the only non-essential crewman sent down to this clearly hostile planet makes less than no sense. Continuing the madness, after Jackson's corpse is used to deliver a message of warning that's immediately ignored, Kirk, Spock and McCoy are subjected to another gratuitous display from disembodied witch heads spouting Shakespearian-esque poetry. You would think this theme of theater-obsessed eccentric illusion-projectors would continue, but you would be wrong, as the only further theatrical implications come in the form of the heavily made up and costumed Korob, whose appearance is given no explanation.


Though you must admit: the camera loves him!

In further defiance of explanation, the crew wakes up chained to the walls of a dungeon after the floor of the castle they enter haphazardly collapses beneath them. Next ensues an absolutely mystifying scene where a zombified Sulu painstakingly unlocks their restraints cuff by cuff. This gesture is immediately made unnecessary when they are teleported into a throne room with Korob, one of their captors. As we've seen in "Squire of Gothos" or "Who Mourns for Adonais?" Korob reveals himself to be overpowered alien attempting to understand the nature of man. He doesn't get too far in his speech, however, before he is upstaged by the real star of the play, the necklace-wearing black cat that transforms into Sylvia, a beautiful woman.

I was hoping Sylvia's introduction would lead to a McCoy-centered episode, as Bones seems to be unable to take his eyes off her.. necklace.. from the moment she enters. That theory is immediately banished as they are all teleported back to the dungeon and McCoy re-enters as a zombie (a role to which he is well-suited). The task of seducing the femme-fatale then predictably falls on Kirk, who delivers his clunkiest and least believable performance in the series so far as he outright fails in his attempt to make her feel too pretty to harm them any longer.

Despite this entirely nonsensical plot, somehow the biggest disappointment of the episode is yet to come as the aliens descend into madness. Korob is killed by a giant door, which is as easily avoidable as it is imaginary, making it therefore harmless to a being capable of casting such illusions. Even more absurdly, these magical beings, who are said to be powerful conjurors with no abilities of sensory perception, are suddenly revealed to resemble tiny, delicate bundles of exposed nerves.


Jim Henson presents: rejected muppets!

The episode abruptly ends, nothing is resolved, no one understands anything better and I'm baffled by the fact that a simple framing device of a crewman explaining Halloween to Spock at the beginning of the episode could have cleared up where these aliens got material for all the imagery in the episode. Instead, we spent more time watching Sulu unlock imaginary restraints than we do deciphering the nature or motivations of crusty blue pipe-cleaner puppet-gods.

Ridiculous. Two stars.



by Gideon Marcus

The Play's the Thing

I must confess–I did not hate this episode.  Not because it was good; heavens no!  It wasn't even Star Trek.  Just our favorite characters having a Halloween lark.  In fact, in my mind, I've completely disregarded it as a Star Trek episode.  Just as Spock and Uhura sometimes jam together in the lounge (why haven't we seen that this season?), and just as Kirk insists that real turkey be served on Thanksgiving, I've concluded that it is an Enterprise tradition that Halloween is celebrated with a big todo.

I can see Sylvia actually being Lt. McGivers' replacement, and with a minor in theatrics.  Once aboard the Enterprise, she began penning her magnum opus: a play involving all of the senior officers of the ship.  Suddenly, all the nonsensical bits make sense.  The beaming down of Scotty and Sulu as a landing party, the spooky settings and effects, the endless kissing scenes ("Oh, but Captain, these are vital to the plot!  Really, it won't breach protocol at all…")


"Did I hear a door slam?  Darn.  We'll have to do the whole take over!"

Taken as such, suddenly the episode is palatable.  It does move pretty well. Theo Marcuse is always a delight (and a genuine war hero, and he has a great last name; he's probably my cousin).  The score was nifty, particularly in the fight scene.  Less so in the five minute bit when Sulu unlocked Kirk's fetters.

And there was abundant display of a cat.  That, alone, is worth a star.

So, again, "Catspaw" isn't a good episode.  But I would watch it in reruns three times before I suffered through "The Apple" again…

Two stars.


Something Wicked this way Comes


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

I rather enjoyed this episode. As Amber said, it wasn't good. But it was fun. Maybe it's because I enjoy camp. I liked Theo Marcuse's silks and jewels and perfectly shaved eyebrows. I liked the kitschy sets – perhaps borrowed from a recent vampire flick? – and as other writers have noted, the cat was a special treat.

I was less impressed by how many of the so-called ‘collective unconscious fears' involved woman-hating. Crones and seductresses, liars and cheats, the non-crewwomen in this episode were like something from Jesse Helms' fever dreams, no collective I'm a part of.

Janice's proposition that the episode would have been better if it had featured truly universal fears sparks my imagination far more than anything in the episode itself. What truly scares everyone? In a world with apocalypse-worshiping churchgoers, can we say everyone is afraid of death? I would say that many, many of us are afraid of a nuclear attack from our friends across the Bering Strait, but people living outside of the blast zones could be reasonably excused from the universality of that fear.

Stepping away from the philosophical mindtwister Janice gives us and back to this rather silly episode, I am looking forward to seeing this one in reruns. There's just something so fun about our heroes getting tied up – several times – like maidens in a gothic novel.


I think the Captain is starting to enjoy it…

Watching Captain Kirk once again try to kiss his way out of trouble was made all the more fun when his captor/target caught him at his game and refused to play anymore. Despite Sylvia's embodiment of a mushy handful of cruel gender stereotypes, I found myself enjoying her time on screen more than almost anyone aside from the core cast. Cheers to Antoinette Bower for taking a two-dimensional role and turning it into something fun and memorable.

There were many, many, many ways this episode could have been improved. I would be disappointed if next week's episode shared in the same nasty stereotypes of women. I fear it will, as it centers on one of my least favorite characters in this series, Mr. Mudd.

Perhaps Sylvia will make a guest appearance and turn him into a toad before he hurts more women.

Three stars.



I don't know how likely it is that Mudd will get his comeuppance, but we can certainly hope!

The episode airs tomorrow night.  Here's the invitation! Come join us.

Also, copies of The Tricorder are still available — drop us a line for details!




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[October 20, 1967] Spoils the Bunch (Star Trek: "The Apple")


by Gideon Marcus

The Aper

My brother likes to quip that "imitation is the sincerest form of mockery", and boy howdy did last night's episode make a mockery of this amazing show we've come to love.

There has now been a season of Star Trek plus five episodes in season two.  As often happens with brilliant new shows, we're starting to see repetition of plotlines, reliance on clichés rather than innovation.  "The Changeling" recalled "Return of the Archons."  "Who Mourns for Adonais" recalled "Space Seed" and "Charlie X".  However, these mild echoes are nothing compared to what is easily the worst episode of the second season thus far, and possibly of the entire show: "The Apple".

Investigating the planet Gamma Trianguli VI (a real star – one of the three that make up Triangulum, a somewhat obscure constellation most noteworthy for containing the lovely galaxy M33), Kirk beams down with a whopping eight other crew to enjoy what appears to be an absolute paradise planet a la "Shore Leave".  Why the captain, first officer, and the chief medical officer are required for this mission of preliminary exploration is never explained.  The garden aspects of the planet are mostly conveyed by dialogue; unlike "Shore Leave", Gamma Trianguli VI is composed of an obvious set with lots of potted plants.


"Captain, you might stop playing with every flower.  One did just kill a crewman."

For the next twenty minutes, we watch the hapless party mowed down in turn by: 1) spore-shooting plants (like "This Side of Paradise" but deadly), 2) exploding rocks, and 3) lightning bolts.  Eventually, Kirk concludes that it's too dangerous for the ship's senior personnel to stay any longer, but now the Enterprise has no power because something from the planet has drained it.


"Cap'n!  This is the fifth week in a row something's kept us in orbit!  Are ye sure it's not in the Writer's Guide?"

It is only then, almost to the third act, that the story begins.  Kirk captures and slaps "Akuta", a red-skinned caucasian tribal chief with Peter Graves' hair, who is "the eyes and ears of Vaal".  Vaal, it turns out, is a giant Gorn head made out of papier mâché with steps leading into his mouth.  Said head controls the weather, the flora, and the people, using immense machines located underground a la Forbidden Planet.  And yet, it requires that the natives periodically shovel explodey rocks into its mouth to top off its gas tank (with music lifted from "Amok Time").  In return, Vaal grants peace, tranquility, and virtual immortality.  Like Landru in "Return of the Archons."  The only difference is, unlike "Archons", where the citizens get a night of wild abandon every so often, the Triangulans must abstain from sex.


"But it's been 20,000 years!  Can't we go steady now?"

Which is why Vaal doesn't want Earthmen around.  They just can't keep their hands off each other.  But, instead of telling Kirk and co. to go home, it kills the landing party one by one, ultimately ordering the tribesmen (but not the women, despite their not being involved in child rearing or motherhood by order of Vaal, so there's really no basis for discrimination) to kill the rest of the starmen.  Despite their ineptitude at violence, they do manage to brain the last male security guard, though the lone female guard displays an unusual degree of competence in fending them off.  I think I know what changes I'd make to the Enterprise's duty roster…


Kato's got competition…

Finally, with the Enterprise spiraling into the atmosphere due to Vaal's grasp (no green hand as in "Adonais", but the effect is the same), and with Kirk's team depleted by half, the captain hits upon the idea of denying Vaal food.  This makes Vaal mad, so Kirk orders that the Enterprise shoot Vaal with phasers.  In a scene lifted directly from "Adonais", complete with special effects shots AND MUSIC, the Enterprise deactivates Vaal.


"Tyrannosaurus!  Diplodocus!  You were right.  Triceratops… you were right…The time has passed. There is no room for dinosaur gods."

This despite the fact that Scotty said he'd tied "everything but the kitchen sink" into the impulse engines to try to break away from Vaal.  I guess he meant "everything but the kitchen sink and the energy from the most powerful weapons ever invented." Which, by the way, we know can be transferred to engine power because we saw Scotty do it in "The Galileo Seven".

Anyway, now the people of GTVI are free to experience the joys of hard labor, disease, and death in childbirth.  Of course, there is some hand-wringing about violating the "non-interference directive", mostly by Spock, and countered by McCoy, who feels a world without sex isn't one worth living in.  Never mind that the point is moot–Kirk has no choice but to destroy Vaal lest he lose his ship.  Which makes the whole conundrum both repetitive and pointless.

Add to that a really tic-laden performance from Shatner, and "The Apple" sinks to the bottom of the barrel, recalling and, at the same time, displacing last season's "The Alternative Factor".

One star.


One rotten apple…


by Janice L. Newman

What is there to say about The Apple that hasn’t already been said above? It was bad, offensively so. Not just because the story was inconsistent and at times nonsensical. We’ve come to accept such stories with varying degrees of equanimity on other shows, like Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea. What made this episode particularly bad and offensive was that it didn’t have the quality we’ve come to specifically expect from Star Trek. Other shows rarely, if ever, give us the well-written science fiction we crave. "Star Trek" has set a standard for itself, especially with two of the early second season episodes, "Amok Time" and "Mirror, Mirror", both of which my fellow Journeyers rated highly. To know that it can be better and watch it fail spectacularly was far more painful than if we’d had low expectations going in. After waiting all week to watch the new episode and inviting friends to watch it with us on our new color television, we ended up wasting an hour of our lives.


I don't think RCA is going to sell many sets with this episode…

There were a couple of bright spots. Apparently the writer wanted to see Spock get hurt repeatedly. In the course of the 50 minute episode, Spock gets shot with poisonous spores, nearly blown up, struck by lightning, and zapped by a force field. While this series of events almost became comedic, Nimoy’s low-key performance is excellent as always.


"I said I like my steak well done, not my Spock!"

McCoy, too, delivers a snappy and acerbic comment that was one of the highlights of the episode ("So much for paradise"). And as annoying as I found her romance with Chekov, I was thrilled to see Martha-the-security-guard successfully flip and subdue a man much larger than she was. It’s about time we see a little equality in the security forces on the ship. We have an equal-opportunity bridge crew, yet the people wearing red are almost always men.

These pinpoints of light were few and far between, like stars at the edge of the galaxy. Unfortunately, they couldn’t save the vast stretch of nothing that was the rest of the episode.

One star.


Something Borrowed


by Joe Reid

The other day I saw a TV advertisement for a child’s toy.  It was a hat with propellers on it.  The children in the commercial ran around and laughed.  They behaved as if these hats were the most fun that they had ever had.  Conversely the child in me looked at that hat and said, “that has got to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen.” The creator of the propeller hat didn’t appear to have put much thought into making a toy that was either interesting or fun, or God-forbid, educational.  He likely saw a child in an old comic strip with a propeller beanie on and thought, “This must be what real children think is fun.  There’s a child in this comic strip with one.  Think of what we could do with two props!”


(not with "The Apple", he didn't)

This week’s episode of Star Trek felt very much to me like that hat.  It looked and felt uncomfortable.  It was utterly pointless and in the end, it just wasn’t very fun at all.  It was a collection of pieces of what one may have thought a good episode of Star Trek was made up of without actually being good, nor relevant, nor consistent.  It was just empty.

“The Apple" was penned by Max Ehrlich, known for his acclaimed non-SF novels, The Takers and Deep is the Blue.  He must obviously be up on Star Trek, because he couldn't have cribbed so many bits from other episodes so far, otherwise.


(not with "The Apple", he didn't)

Up until now, episodes of Star Trek showed our heroes going to strange and amazing settings.  To worlds that have histories and that have been shaped by powerful forces.  They traveled to a ruined world where only children exist, due to a disease that killed the adults.  To a paradise where a lonely god waited millennia for humans to re-join him.  To a ranch where an intelligent fungus gives you perfect health but mind controls you with euphoria.  These were stories set in fantastic places where strange things happen for reasons that serve those worlds.  “The Apple” blatantly lifts elements from these previous episodes.  Story elements that grounded and explained the worlds of the episodes exist in this episode devoid of what meaning they held before and bearing no meaning for the story we saw them in this week.

Ehrlich is like the marketing executive who came up with the idea for the propeller hat.  After all, hats are big; propellers are keen; surely, combining them would be a gas.  All that's needed to sell the idea is to show kids having a blast wearing it!

And so, Ehrlich takes elements from beloved episodes, gussies them up with exploding rocks, giant lizard heads, and innocent naïve natives turned killer, and hopes we'll buy "The Apple" because, hey, it's Star Trek, ain't it?

Sure. Like the 40th copy from a ditto machine is the original.  And efforts to include new elements fall flat, too.  I'm thinking of the uncharacteristically forced romance that we witnessed between Chekov and the female Ensign, and the awkward attempts at comedy at the expense of the same Ensign, which even flustered the ever-logical Spock.  The one exception to this being any comedic line delivered by Mr. DeForest Kelly, Dr. McCoy.  That man is so funny he makes even bad dialogue work when he performs it.


"Jim, I've got an idea.  Why don't you give me all the lines?

At the end of the day, “The Apple” was unfocused, derivative, and uninteresting television.  Borrowing good story points from others that do not serve a new story does not make for a good episode, any more than sticking fans on a beanie makes a good toy.  Instead of things happening for a reason they simply existed so that something happened.  Without the reasons why things were as they were, “The Apple” came across vapid and empty.  Here’s hoping that next week we return to tales that have more meaning than this. 

1 star



Well, maybe the next episode, airing TONIGHT, will be better.  Looks like the Enterprise is in for a bumpy ride..

Here's the invitation. Come join us!



[October 12, 1967] See you on the flip side (Star Trek: "Mirror, Mirror")


by Joe Reid

A Shadowy Reflection

As this most intriguing and excellent season of Star Trek continues on we find ourselves delighted week after week with more thoughtful and fantastical stories.  This week takes the cake!  I have stated repeatedly that Star Trek is a mirror to society here on Earth, today in 1967.  This episode took that mirror and held it up to its own world and its characters.  Appropriately, the writers called it “Mirror, Mirror”.  Let’s take a gander at it and see what’s on the other side.

The episode opens on an alien world as a storm rages.  Captain Kirk is in discussion with the very human looking Halkan Council to allow the Federation to mine dilithium on their planet. Uhura, Dr. McCoy, and Scotty are with him as part of the landing party.  With negotiations stalled, as the Halkans don’t wish to see their dilithium used by those who may cause harm to even a single person, Kirk decides to return to the ship due to the coming ion storm.


"Do not try to adjust your communicator. We control the horizontal and the vertical." (Vic Perrin, head Halkan, is the narrator for The Outer Limits)

As the four of them are transported to the ship, something goes wrong and instead of appearing on the USS Enterprise they find themselves wearing different clothing as they appear on a different Enterprise.  They are immediately confronted with Spock sporting a goatee who then calls for the eradication of the Halkans for not giving their dilithium to the "Empire" and who is quick to painfully punish Transporter Chief Kyle for an issue with the transporters.


Performance reviews are brutal on this Enterprise

Kirk soon figures out that the four of them are in a parallel universe.  Finding themselves isolated among violent familiar looking strangers, the quartet seek to find a way to save the Halkans from destruction and get themselves back home.  As they attempt to masquerade as "themselves" on the brutal ISS Enterprise while trying to carry out their secret mission, Urura is forced to resist the advances of a savage and craven Sulu, while Kirk barely survives an assassination attempt by an ambitious and bloodthirsty Chekov.


"You die, Captain, and I get to sing Mickey's songs."

Soon thanks to the male voiced, magically capable ship's computer, Kirk and McCoy confirm how they ended up on the opposite side of this dark looking-glass and learn of a way to return to their universe.  As amazing as that was, we soon meet the other Captain Kirk's mistress and confidant, Marlena, waiting for him in his quarters, who shows our Kirk the powerful assassination weapon that he has at his disposal to wipe out all of his enemies.  Marlena threatened to use it on Spock after he made clear to Kirk that he was under orders to kill him if he failed to purge the Halkans for refusing to allow the Empire rights to the dilithium.


The new Admiral TV not only has the brightest color, but it eliminates unwanted personnel!

The action and excitement then gets fast and intense as our crew carry out their plan to get home.  Uhura gets into another struggle with the wicked Sulu and has to strike and almost shank him to save herself.  Goatee Spock realizes things aren't right and captures our righteous four crewmembers for answers.  This leads to another fight against the powerful Vulcan.  Just as they found a way around Spock, the devious Sulu returns to kill everyone and murder his way to command of the ship.  After an amazing save by Marlena using the weapon she told our Kirk about, she approaches the captain, explaining that she had learned everything about them and wanted to return to their world with them.

In the end it is the unerringly logical Spock of the violent universe helps our people return to their world as Kirk made a passionate, Nomad-level logical plea for him to rescue the people of this dark universe.


"And we have better donuts."

Our crew finally made it home and things were back to normal.  The final scene has all four members of the landing party stricken with surprise as they meet the normal universe’s version of Marlena for the first time.

The range that we saw in some of the actors was chameleon-like. In particular, Sulu was a completely different person with a different deck of facial expressions than we are used to.  Truly unlikeable. 


"Peel your apple?"

From concept to story to acting, this was the best night of television that I have seen in a dog’s age.

Five stars.


The Enemy Without


by Janice L. Newman

This week’s episode of Star Trek was about a good Kirk and an evil Kirk. Sound familiar? If you watched The Enemy Within, this episode might sound like it’s just the same idea revisited. Don’t be fooled! It’s not.

The premise of the episode, that there is a “parallel” universe similar to our own but where history took a different course, leading to a totalitarian empire instead of Starfleet and the federation of planets, is an intriguing one. The people in that universe are shaped by their environment: they are vicious, self-serving, traitorous, and sadistic. And yet, there are exceptions. Spock is still Spock, even when he is enforcing the empire’s orders. He describes McCoy as ‘soft’ and ‘sentimental’ (if McCoy is as dedicated to being a healer in this harsher world, it’s no wonder that Spock would think so).


A kinder McCoy?

The Enemy Within was a story of ‘man versus himself’, exploring what makes us human from the inside. Mirror, Mirror asks the opposite question: “How much does our environment make us who we are?” It’s an intriguing thought: who we might be if born under different circumstances. What kind of an environment creates a Hitler? Are we but one universe over from a world where someone – maybe you – pressed the button to start World War 3?

If there is anything this well-paced, well-acted episode lacked, it was screentime for the landing party’s counterparts. Unfortunately, the story simply couldn’t fit a focus on them in the hour-long runtime. I did appreciate that ‘our’ crew immediately realized that there was something wrong and locked up the alternates.

If you missed this week’s episode, I highly recommend catching the re-run next summer if you can. As much as I liked The Enemy Within, this episode is even better.

Five stars.


The middle road


by Lorelei Marcus

Star Trek gives us a future that is aspirational, and perhaps brighter than our own. The Starfleet Federation borders on utopian, with scarcity of resources becoming almost nonexistent, and the main military body existing solely for goodwill and scientific exploration. It is refreshing to see a future where people of all colors and sexes (and even nonhumans) can work and be treated equally, particularly on the decks of the Enterprise.

In today's episode, we were presented with an alternative universe completely opposite to the Star Trek we are used to. Rather than a utopia, the world order resembled a totalitarian dictatorship with security police and brutal forms of punishment. It was a shock, to say the least, to see all of our favorite characters in this new environment and how they and their hierarchies changed. The lack of women on the mirror ship particularly stood out to me, and those that were left were no longer equal with the men – forced to prostitute themselves to gain any power and security.


How to win friends and influence captains.

The parallel universe possibility intrigued me. Star Trek's main universe and this mirror universe are two ends of the spectrum. Could there be more parallel universes? And what would one that falls right in the middle of that spectrum look like? How closely would it represent our modern world? I can imagine a ship where there is still some distinction based on race and sex, if only systemically. The Enterprise would probably be sent on missions to settle the protests of disquieted colonies, or to do tactical phaser strikes on rogue planets that have sided with the Romulans. I see a universe with more poverty and more discontent with the Federation. Maybe Kirk would have an episode where he falls in love with a poor colonist girl, but she is an anti-Federationalist, and ultimately he must reject his personal life to reaffirm loyalty to his cause.

This thought experiment only makes me appreciate the world of Star Trek even more. Roddenberry really has done a spectacular job of building an independent universe that is not just a gussied up copy of our own. When I am watching, it is never hard to believe that what is on my television screen is truly the future. (Except for sometimes when they show Chekhov's hair).

The episode as a whole was fantastically done with an interesting premise and phenomenal acting.

Five stars.


"A Well Oiled Trap"


by Amber Dubin

Although this episode was most likely meant to repel the viewer with horror at the savagery exhibited by the mirror universe, the entire episode was so charged with the kind of raw, animalistic energy that it had the exact opposite effect on me.

From the very beginning of the episode, it becomes clear that the unrelenting barbarism of the mirror universe necessitates the exposure of the Starfleet's most exceptional qualities; both literally, with the flashy and extremely flattering improvements to the crewmen's uniforms, and figuratively, in the way all of them rise to the challenges they are faced with. This is displayed most dramatically by Uhura, who, bolstered by Kirk's faith in her, manages to overcome her initial fears and slips on the camouflage of a violent seductress as easily as putting on a second skin. Similarly, on the other ship, Spock's notorious intuition proves itself almost comically effective when he immediately recognizes the landing party as dangerous imposters and goes straight to work trying to get his real Captain back.


A most entertained Spock.

An even more intriguing theme in this episode is that as savage and chaotic as the behavior of the crew in this alternate universe is, their selfishness and barbarity only served to make them more human. Mirror Chekov and Sulu's actions are self-serving and violent, but their motivations are neither unreasonable nor excessively malicious in the context of their environment. If anything it could be argued that, stripped of the need to adhere to formalities, the way they behave is more honest and truer to their desires than their more 'civilized' counterparts. As our Spock says, the mirror crew were "In every way, splendid examples of homo sapiens. The very flower of humanity." This is shown best by the introduction of Marlena, a woman whose intelligence and impressive powers of intuition and seduction have allowed her to not only survive but to wind her way around the heart of a violent and psychopathic Captain Kirk. She even proves that she has not lost her moral center by saving Kirk's life even after he has revealed himself to be an imposter and wounded her ego by not succumbing to her wiles after she "oils [her] traps" for him. The alternate version of Spock shows this same level of integrity when he chooses to help the landing party return to their universe, despite the fact that this version of Kirk would logically be much easier to usurp and control than his stubborn, unreasonable, greedy and angry counterpart. The actions of these two mirror crewman suggest that this universe is not in fact evil, but may just be stripped bare of inhibitions that cause the crew we know to control or polish their true selves.

With the smooth delivery from its cast, brilliant script and mind-teasing metaphors, this episode acted upon me as a siren song that by the end had me echoing Marlena's plea to "take me with you."


Sexy Spock with a beard didn't hurt either…

This episode deserves all the stars in the universe, but since the rating system limits me to five, I give it all of them.


Women's Liberation


by Erica Frank

Uhura found herself in a universe where women’s uniforms are made with a fraction of the fabric used in men’s, where they have to endure sexual advances at work, where some women get ahead by sleeping with the boss, and nobody dares object.

So…. not too different from our world, hmm?

After the initial shock of realizing her officer's uniform was smaller than some swimsuits back home and that Sulu’s spark of interest in her own world (“I’ll save you, fair maiden!”) was an obsession here, Uhura quickly adjusted her expectations and behaviors.

She didn’t cringe from the lustful gazes that followed her everywhere. She didn’t frantically check her wardrobe, trying to find something, anything that covered more skin and was still considered a Starfleet Empire uniform. She didn't demand one of the other men escort her and protect her.

She got herself a knife.


Chief Security Officer Sulu discovers that some women prefer to manage their own security.

She knew exactly how to cope with a workplace where men are allowed to demand sexual favors… and where women are allowed to set whatever terms they’d like, as long as they back them up with force.

As much as Uhura wanted to go home — back to a world where women have status based on their skills in the workplace and not between the sheets, where promotions are assigned by talent and not assassination, where Starfleet operates on principles of compassion instead of conquest — she knew how to operate in this one.

Drawing that knife on Sulu must have been tremendously vindicating. She wasn’t just facing him, but every faculty advisor who ever stood too close, every regional manager who said “come back to my place and we'll talk about your promotion,” every police officer who did a pat-down that was more grope than inspection.

In that shining moment, Uhura acted for all of us, every woman who's been told, "Smile more; women should be pretty!" (Followed by, "What was I supposed to think? You were always smiling at me!") The mirror-universe is a dark, twisted version of our own… but that moment on the bridge explained why some women are proud and happy to belong to the Starfleet Empire.

A world where men openly harass women and require them to be sexy at all times is not unknown to us. A world where we can strike back…that’s new.

Five stars.



Speaking of Star Trek, it's on tomorrow!  And it seems to star Godzilla…

Here's the invitation! Come join us.

Also, copies of The Tricorder are still available — drop us a line for details!




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[October 6, 1967] Deus ex Machina (Star Trek: "Changeling")


by Gideon Marcus

Recycling is good practice

We are now three weeks into the second season, and Star Trek continues to impress.  If the season premiere was an episode that could only have existed in the Star Trek universe, last week's and this week's are back to the first season formula of adapted, universal science fiction tales.  Nevertheless, "The Changeling" is a uniquely Trek episode, adding to the depth of the setting and capitalizing on what we know of the characters.

Checking in on the Melurian system, the Enterprise finds that something has wiped out its four billion inhabitants.  Said something then begins shooting at the Enterprise with bolts possessing the power of a whopping 90 photon torpedoes (the fact that the shields can withstand four such hits suggest either the torps are weak sauce or the assailant was at the edge of its range).  After firing on the enemy, Kirk attempts communication; that Kirk didn't try talking first is not inconsistent with his character; he's "a soldier, not a diplomat."

The hail works.  The assailant, barely more than a meter in length, consents to being beamed aboard the Enterprise.  There, it is quickly determined that it is what is left of the 21st Century deep space probe "Nomad", and it thinks Kirk is its creator, Jackson Roy Kirk (perhaps a distant ancestor?)

Nomad is now more than just the next iteration of Mariner spacecraft.  After a collision and merging with the alien probe, Tan Ru, it is now an intelligent, self-aware being with just two motivations: "To seek out and sterilize all that which is not perfect" and to impress his creator, "The Kirk."  Nomad “fixes” the Enterprise so it can go Warp 11, popping all of the Enterprise's rivets.  It kills Scotty, then brings him back to life.

More chillingly, it zaps four security guards out of existence (to be fair, they fired first).  It gives Uhura a kind of stroke, temporarily cutting her off from her advanced knowledge.  And when Kirk concedes that he is an imperfect biological unit, Nomad resolves to go back home to Earth–and wipe out all imperfection.  He is only stopped when Kirk, in "a dazzling display of logic", makes Nomad aware of its own imperfections, ordering it to self-destruct, which it does.

There's nothing in this episode we haven't seen or heard before.  The naive, all-powerful presence taken aboard the Enterprise, kept in check solely by a tenuous parent-worship of Captain Kirk, is the same plot as "Charlie X".  Kirk already defeated a computer with logic in "Return of the Archons."  All of the action takes place on the Enterprise, and much of the music is recycled from the prior two episodes.

And yet, this may be my favorite episode of the season thus far.  Not only do we learn some interesting things about Terran history (we now have a tentative timeline – from the Eugenics Wars of the 1990s to the first warp-powered probes of the early 21st Century), but the episode depends in large part on things that have already been established about the characters we've come to love.


I love this show of Sulu jerking back as Nomad flies right past him to ask what the heck Uhura's doing

Nomad is intrigued by Uhura because of her singing, and we get to see her speaking Swahili again, too.  Scotty gets himself killed defending her (we learned last episode that Scotty's brain short circuits where women are concerned).  Spock uses his mind-touch on Nomad (and aren't there all kinds of interesting ramifications from that).  Kirk is better than ever at beating computers–his defeat of Nomad was far more logical and satisfying than his victory over Landru.

I found Kirk's performance more understated this episode, which I appreciated, and Nimoy was excellent as usual.  I also appreciated the return to a more ensemble approach, with heavy focus on Uhura, Chapel, Scotty, and McCoy.  If there was only one bobble in tone, it was Kirk's (admittedly funny) line about lamenting the loss of Nomad, his son, the doctor.  Given the loss of four billion Melurians and four of his crew, one would think Kirk would be a touch more somber.

Those are quibbles, though.  Four stars.


The Truth will set you free


by Joe Reid

I find large numbers to be amazing things.  We as human beings have developed ways to express and manipulate numbers that are vaster than we have the ability to conceive of.  I myself can mentally picture 10 bowling pins, 100 sheets of typing paper, and a jar of 1000 pennies.  Ten thousand, one hundred thousand, and even one million are numbers that inspire awe.  How about four billion?  Imagine you line up everyone on earth, you would be 500 million short of four billion!  This week’s episode of Star Trek left me with a question that needs to be answered.  How do you kill four billion people?

I don't mean the physical means by which he brought this about.  Each of Nomad's bolts packs a 90-photon torpedo wallop.  I mean how does Nomad, an intelligent thinking machine, kill four billion people?  I look at Star Trek as a mirror being held up to the audience.  With the writers holding up that mirror and saying, “This is what we look like.” Therefore, the question also is, how do we as intelligent thinking beings kill hundreds, thousands, and even millions of people?  The answer to both questions is the same.  You believe a lie.

Nomad believed that it was perfect.  That its creator was perfect.  That the mission in its memory tapes were perfect.  Nomad took that belief as a given.  So, anything that didn’t fit within its own understanding should be wiped clean.  We saw this when Nomad encountered a singing Uhura and erased her mind.  Since Nomad was perfect any action it took was ultimately justifiable, so any resistance to it should be eliminated, which was the case of the four guards and Scotty.  All of which died.  Along the same lines, any being that does not meet his level of perfection is an infestation which must be eliminated.  We were told about four billion examples of that, with the promise of more to come.


The price of imperfection.

By Nomad’s actions we see our own human condition.  When we believe the lie that we are better than those around us, that those who are not like us are below us, we find justification to ignore them.  Those who we can’t ignore we remove.  Those we don’t understand or agree with we erase.  Those not like you are not human, so killing them is justified, because those “things” are a useless infestation.  My friends, we believe such lies and commit these acts upon other humans.

In the end, Nomad was undone by the truth.  When it learned the truth that it was not perfect, Nomad stayed consistent with its other beliefs and ended its own existence.  How do humans respond when they are exposed to the truth?  Perhaps a future episode of Star Trek will provide that answer.  I cannot.  Since like you, I am afflicted with my own deck of lies that guide my own beliefs.


Nomad learns the truth.

Overall, this was another exciting and thought-provoking episode which makes my Thursday nights most enjoyable.  Not perfect by any means, but a worthy addition to this wonderful program.

4 stars


"The Nomad who Wandered Got Lost"


by Amber Dubin

As a self-confessed robot-a-phile, I felt the need to take a second pass at this episode to fully understand its protagonist. After listening to the audio tapes I made of the episode, I found that the understanding I gained left me unsettled.

The concept I found most disconcerting is that, despite the fact that it wiped out an entire solar system's worth of people, to hate Nomad would be as unreasonable as hating a child. Though it is powerful, ancient, sophisticated, and sentient to boot, Nomad is frequently compared to a child. The fact that this episode is called "The Changeling" implies that it is a lost child robbed of its intended destiny. Much like a child whose birth kills its mother, it gains sentience by being cruelly ripped from the void, forced to survive the trauma of its birth while destroying the only witness to its initiation of life. To assuage its survivor's guilt after the entanglement with the alien probe, it seeks to validate its existence with the hastily slapped together objectives from the partial data stores of two damaged probes, with predictably disastrous results. It may kill people, but only in the way a Changeling child might if given immense power and no moral guidance.


Inside the mind of a child

The other concept that left me with "insufficient data to resolve problem" was how easily Nomad was compelled to merge two peaceful objectives into one murderous one. In Spock’s words, "Nomad was a thinking machine, the best that could be engineered" and yet that same intellect made it unable to live up to its own standards. In trying to explain its sentience in a literal vacuum, it uses its 'perfection' to explain why a lowly soil sterilization probe was sacrificed to preserve its function. In honoring that sacrifice by incorporating "the other's" programming, it is then faced with the impossible task of applying a local objective onto a global scale. To make its task more manageable, it translates 'sterilize your environment' to "sterilize imperfections." This way, it avoids failing its objective and admitting that its pursuit of perfection is internally flawed. When Kirk exposes this flaw, Nomad's inability to reconcile it was probably the most human reaction I've ever seen. I tip my hat to the kind of writing that could make me wonder if self-destruction is in the nature of an inquisitive mind.

This episode lost points, however, when it came to Uhura's subplot. I initially had a visceral reaction to her re-training scene. The way they talk to her while teaching her to read is not the way you talk to a stroke victim re-learning language, it's how you speak to a child learning language for the first time. I bristled at the nurse's condescending praise and saw it as an insult to Uhura’s intelligence. Listening through the second time, however, softened my perspective. By including Uhura’s outburst in Swahili, and the nurse's comment that Uhura "seems to have an aptitude for mathematics," it was apparent that there was most likely no malicious agenda to make Nichols look stupid. More than likely the purpose of the scene was to say 'Gee English sure is a silly language.' While not being as offensive as I originally thought, it's still disappointing and doesn't hold up to the standard set by the writing of the rest of the episode (strong enough to still get four stars).


"Who wrote this scene, anyway?!"



The next episode of Trek is TONIGHT! It doesn't look like we're in Kansas anymore…

Here's an invitation. Come join us!



[September 28, 1967] We have met Divinity, and He is Ours (Star Trek: "Who Mourns for Adonais")

God is in the Details


by Janice L. Newman

After Star Trek’s incredible second season debut episode last week, we were on pins and needles. Would the episode hold up to the new standard set by “Amok Time”?

The episode starts out unpromisingly, with Kirk, McCoy, and Scotty ogling a pretty female lieutenant. Scotty invites her for coffee, and McCoy and Kirk exchange quips on how she’s just going to “get married and leave the service”.

Given later events in the episode, one can squint a bit and pretend that they’re talking about this specific crewperson, not women in general. Still, it was jarring, particularly in the context of “Balance of Terror”, where we saw a female officer getting married and still doing her job just fine.

The ship continues on its mission, only to be interrupted by what appears to be a giant hand floating in space, which reaches out to grab the ship. No matter what they try, they cannot break free of its grasp. The crew is sharp and competent here, a pleasure to watch. As they experiment, a floating head appears on the viewscreen. It hails them and begins to talk of welcoming them after a long wait. When Kirk tells it to release the ship, it says it will close its hand, increasing the pressure both inside and outside the ship. Kirk, having no choice in the face of this superior power, agrees to accede to the being’s demands.

Spock, in a refreshing change, remains in command aboard, while Kirk, Scotty, Chekov, McCoy, and the pretty lieutenant, Carolyn Palamas, join him in beaming down to the planet. Once there, they are greeted by the self-proclaimed god “Apollo”, who states that they will remain on the planet and worship him, herding flocks and playing the music of the pipes. It sounds like an idyllic, and very boring, life.

From the start, Apollo is much taken with Palamas. For a nominal ancient history scholar and archaeologist, she doesn’t seem terribly interested or excited about meeting a being that claims to be an actual god and who supposedly interacted with humans on earth 5000 years ago. She is excited when Apollo transforms her uniform into a shiny, pink, skin-baring outfit, though! (My reaction to having my clothes suddenly transformed into something else would not be, “Oh, it’s beautiful!” no matter how lovely the dress.) Apollo sweeps off with Palamas, leaving the remaining crewmembers to look for a way out.

Kirk, as is always the case when the Enterprise is in peril, doesn’t care about anything but getting his ship and crew back. He repeatedly defies Apollo, who punishes him in various painful ways. Scotty apparently loses his head trying to protect Palamas, and also challenges Apollo repeatedly, even going against Kirk’s orders to do so. All this defiance and punishment leads to the discovery that Apollo seems weakened after he shoots lightning bolts or otherwise displays his ‘godlike’ powers.

Meanwhile, the crew on the Enterprise have been looking for a way out. They are a pleasure to watch, with Spock issuing crisp orders and the crew following without question (a nice change from “The Galileo Seven”). Uhura even gets to do some soldering at one point!

Back on the planet, Kirk corners Palamas and orders her to spurn Apollo and break his heart, which will hopefully cause him to use his powers and weaken him enough to give them a chance. At first Palamas resists, but Kirk convinces her. She tells Apollo that he’s only interesting to her as a ‘specimen’, infuriating him and causing him to call a great storm.

The crew aboard the Enterprise is able to get a message through just in time. Kirk orders them to use the ‘holes’ they’ve been able to make to shoot through Apollo’s barrier and attack the source of his power on the planet. The crew obey, and great phaser beams come from the sky, focusing on the temple. Apollo screams at them to stop, but the phasers continue until the temple is left in ruins. Apollo weeps, turns his face to the sky, and lets himself dissolve as his fellow gods and goddesses did thousands of years before.

I think the best word to sum up this episode is: “uneven”. There were parts I liked very much. Anything with the crew being smart and competent was fun to watch. I found Apollo’s monologue at the end to be very affecting. And there were other small moments of brilliance, such as when McCoy complains at Chekov’s insistence on being thorough, saying, “Spock’s contaminating this boy, Jim.”

On the other hand, the subtle deprecation of women was not only frustrating, it didn’t make sense. Apollo calls Palamas, “Wise, for a woman.” As even the most cursory review of Greek mythology reminds us, the god of wisdom was a goddess: Athena. Add to this Kirk’s humanocentric speech to Palamas – strange, considering that his first officer isn’t human – and his line about finding “one god quite sufficient”, which felt artificial and forced in the context of the rest of the story. Scotty’s unprofessional buffoonery was more annoying than funny and Chekov’s really terrible wig was distracting.

Still, the episode as a whole was worth watching, and I’ll probably even catch it on the rerun this summer. As such, I give it three stars.

Update: Having just re-watched this episode in the summer re-runs, I've decided to increase my rating. While there are still a few irritating flaws, the episode as a whole was strong enough to hold up extremely well to a re-watch. Apollo's monologues in particular were very effective. Even knowing it was coming, I still got goosebumps when he talked about Hera spreading herself thin on the wind and later calling to his friends to take him. Palamas, too, seemed less like silly damsel and more like a woman struggling to protect her crewmates. When she initially goes with Apollo, it seems more appeasement than interest. It's only after Apollo's promise to raise her up and make her the mother of gods that she truly seems to become enamored with him, and as I said aloud to my friends, I'd go with him after a speech like that! And in the end, in the face of that temptation, she still does her job. Upon re-evaluation, I'm raising my rating to four stars.


A finely tuned machine, or Deus ex Machina


by Lorelei Marcus

Something I have always appreciated about Star Trek is the seamless operation of the crew of the Enterprise. While on the bridge, one can always hear the murmur of radio chatter as various ship sections give their status reports. If a crewman has to leave his post, there is always another ready to take over at a moment's notice. Repair personnel can often be seen in the halls, patching up the damage after an attack. All of these details give the impression that the USS Enterprise is a plausible naval vessel, well-trained and well-run.

This became particularly apparent in this week's episode, when Spock is left in command of the ship, with no contact with the ground crew or his Captain, while in the grip of Apollo. All of the First Officer's actions are purely logical, of course, but the best part is seeing how his crew carries out the orders without fault or question. Everyone is competent at their station, providing innovative solutions to problems, like Uhura manually soldering a bypass circuit, or Sulu scanning the planet for major energy signals. I personally love the line Spock says when Sulu can't pinpoint the exact origin of the energy: "Simply scan where the energy is not, and use process of elimination to determine its origin." Such a simple, yet ingenious solution.

In addition to being smart and creative, the crew also works well under pressure (sometimes literally!) Even after the ship is almost crushed by Apollo, status and damage reports come flying left and right from the edges of the bridge. McCoy reports the situation in sick bay, Scotty states the strain on the engines, and Sulu notes how the ship has lost all speed. It's moments like these that remind me how good Star Trek can be. I can truly believe that the Enterprise is a highly trained military vessel, and one of the best on television, sci-fi and not. I'd like to see how Admiral Nelson's submarine would fare against Apollo's antics!

While the scenes on the Enterprise are excellent, the scenes that take place on Pollux IV are inconsistent, and so I give the episode three stars. But so long as the shipboard action remains as taut and believable as it was this episode, it will be hard for an episode to fall below that baseline.


5000 YEARS OF LONGING


by Joe Reid

Do you remember the good old days?  Those times long ago, when men were more manly, and women were reserved.  I do.  Those were great times!  Should those times ever visit us again, I know that I for one would be overjoyed!  To reclaim the simple pleasures of life.  Those days when I felt truly alive.  Surrounded by people that loved and appreciated me.  They needed me, and I needed them. 
These are the sentiments that I hear from old (and not-so-old) folks reminiscing at the family gathering.  This sentiment was the very soul of the antagonist in this week’s episode of Star Trek, “Who Mourns for Adonais?”.

As I have stated in my previous observations, Mr. Rodenberry’s weekly excursion to the stars seeks to take us to far away places, to meet sensational characters, and to capture our eyes and minds in order to fill them both with images of who we are today in 1967.  I love that Star Trek gives me a positive vision of a future time, I hate that it at the same time shows me a negative image of who we are.  Of who I am.

In this episode we got to meet an honest to goodness god.  Not the “Gee-Oh-Dee” of the Good Book, although the title may cast allusions in that direction.  Apollo is the god the crew of the Enterprise must contend with and is he ever a handful!  I’d rather go twelve rounds with Ali than get into a fight with this bruiser.  Apollo remembers a time when he and others like him lived with humans.  5000 years ago to be exact!  They were times that Apollo remembered and loved.  When humans loved, worshiped and revered him.  When he loved them in return, guided them, cherished them.  The episode doesn’t go into detail on how the relationship between the gods and mankind was broken but is the very clear that the advent of humanity to his new home brings him hope that the relationship with mankind will be renewed.  It is this hope which is the root of the conflict in this episode.

In Apollo we see a wounded exile.  One given the hope that a bond as old as recorded history will be restored.  That he will be able to pick back up where he and the people of ancient times left off and go back to paradise.  In the end humanity wanted something different for themselves and the hoped-for reunion left Apollo in tears.

How much like Apollo are we?  We think back to times past and wish they were here again.  We hold on to temporary things as if they were permanent.  Whether those things be people, places, positions, patterns, or our own potential.  In reflection of this story, I must ask a question.  Who might the crew of the Enterprise have encountered on that world if Apollo had been able to move past his longing and desire for what he had long ago?  I leave the answer of that to your own imaginations, friends.  That question invites a second one.  Who might we be if we are able to let go of the past and accept people, places, positions, and potential as we find them today?  As they are right in front of our noses.  If we can answer that for ourselves, then we may no longer need to mourn what we lost.  We only need enjoy what is.

3 stars


A Woman’s Place is on the Enterprise


by Robin Rose Graves

While at times Lt. Carolyn Palamas played into the stereotypes women often play in television, ultimately Star Trek went against expectations.

“One day [Lieutenant Palamas] will find the right man and off she'll go, out of the service,” McCoy observes at the start of this episode, mirroring what many viewers probably think upon seeing Scotty’s flirtatious invitation for coffee. This reflects a trend in our own world, as women are often expected to abandon their careers to focus on home and family when they marry. With this setup, I assumed the episode would conclude with Lt. Palamas abandoning all scientific pursuits for a man.

But Star Trek did not give in to social pressure!

The episode reaches its climax when Lt. Palamas, despite her love for Apollo, rejects him to preserve the Enterprise crew, suggesting there is more to a woman’s life than being an object of a man’s affections.

It’s also worth noting Lt. Uhura’s active presence in this episode. She is shown to be both competent and crucial to returning the crew to the Enterprise. Her plot reinforces the theme in this episode that women are just as important to the crew as the men. In Uhura's case, indispensable.

I rejoice thinking of the young girls who might be watching, who will admire both Lt Palamas and Lt. Uhura’s beauty, knowledge and capability and think “I, too, belong in science.”

Four stars.


This article, we welcome Amber Dubin, an editor of a scientific journal who spends far too much time wondering if her 10 year old cat has become more human than she is.

She has a decidedly different opinion on the portrayal of Lieutenant Palamas than Robin…

Lackluster Elegy to a God


by Amber Dubin

My biggest problem with this episode is its inconsistent and disparaging narrative about the nature of women.

In a disappointing start to the episode, Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy make a condescending observation about Lieutenant Palamas, that she's approaching that 'time in every woman's life' where she'll throw away her career for a marriage. Star Trek usually transcends the sexist zeitgeist of our time, so the presence of this message personally disillusioned me. Moreover when she betrays her crew the way it was foreshadowed, her seduction itself makes absolutely no sense. In an analogous scenario in the episode "Space Seed" the bewitching of the female Lieutenant is much more plausible. In "Space Seed," historian Marla McGivers has a documented obsession with powerful men throughout history; thus when Khan appears to step directly out of her fantasies and shows her intense interest, she is putty in his hands. Though the lieutenant here has had significantly less character development in her episode, even by what we do know about her, how easily Lieutenant Carolyn Palamas is seduced is nonsensical.

First, it is implausible that a 'typical space faring woman' like Palamas would want nothing more from life than to be offered a pretty dress and ruling status over a deserted planet. Second, Apollo's plan for seduction is as follows: 1) Show up half naked 2) alter her appearance without her permission 3) isolate her from everyone she knows 4) Call her beautiful four times and 5) Rank her among his previous conquests. If she was a lonely, bored shepherd woman like Apollo is used to impressing, this would be sufficient, but to imply that a woman whose job it was to study cultural evolution would be impressed by this culturally unevolved male display is insulting to both women and anthropologists. It's almost as if her character was written by a man who doesn't understand how to write a woman.

In stark contrast, the concurrent scenario on the bridge casts Uhura in the role of 'strong, dependable woman' in a way that's so jarring with the rest of the themes of this episode that one has to wonder if it was penned by a different hand. In trying to save the landing party, Uhura is tasked with a complex and delicate maneuver and Mr. Spock expresses respect for her intelligence and competence implicitly. Uhura is trusted to take care of herself and fulfill her duties, the exact opposite of how Scotty insists that Palamas is a helpless prop. It makes no sense to praise one woman for her intelligence on the ship, while in the presence of a God, a woman who reveals the same level of intellect is met with revulsion, outrage and literal divine wrath.

Overall, I felt personally let down by this episode because I feel like the narrative voices did not harmonize well and the resulting cacophony of misfiring ideals made for a lackluster elegy to a God.

Two stars.



by Gideon Marcus

With Great Power…

There is much to both enjoy and to wince at in this episode.  It treads familiar ground, from "The Squire of Gothos" to "Space Seed" to "Charlie X".  But there is also a poignant message about outgrowing the need for external deities, and the folly of a godlike being of trying to force worship from a race that can no longer give it.

What really fascinated me about "Adonais" was its contradiction of Acton's Dictum, which says "Power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely."

Apollo was a second-generation God, descendant of space traveling beings capable of projecting tremendous power. Yet, his race almost assuredly started out as baseline human.  This would be laughable in any other setting, since the odds of human beings evolving twice (John Campbell's beliefs notwithstanding) are vanishingly small–I'm not even convinced there is life on other worlds.  But in Star Trek, it's a given; q.v. "Miri" and "Return of the Archons", for instance.  For some reason, humans and even Earths exist all over the galaxy.

So it is not implausible that, say ten thousand years ago, Apollo's race was indistinguishable from us, complete with smog, network television, and bad wigs.  Then they developed space travel and scattered among the stars.  Some of them may have become the Metrons or the First Federation.  One group came to Earth and settled in Hellas.  They were, accordingly, worshiped and revered.

Yet they let that worship and reverence die!  Apollo's brood did not long mingle with mortals, instead repairing to Mount Olympus.  They didn't continue to demand adoration from the increasingly sophisticated philosophers and leaders of Greece and Rome.  They didn't search out another group of shepherds to lord over.  They simply left, even though, in the end, it meant their death.

Why didn't "superior power breed superior ambition (a la "Space Seed") in this case? I have an idea.

Apollo's god status is never disputed.  His story is taken at face value.  We've simply, as a species, outgrown him.  Why?

Because we are now gods

Take the Enterprise. While Apollo initially had the upper hand (haha), by the end of the episode, Kirk had at his command power equal to and even surpassing that of the Greek deity.  Humans are now at the level of Apollo and his cohorts.  To any primitive society, what else could we be but gods?

What a responsibility that is!  It is no wonder that the #1 rule of the Federation, the so-called "Prime Directive", is not to interfere with aboriginal cultures (first referenced, I think, in "Return of the Archons").  It is a wise rule given the stakes.

Perhaps Apollo's brood had this same rule.  Maybe a small group allowed themselves to give in to temptation for a little while, mingling with the Greeks they found so charming.  And then, realizing their corrupting influence, first removed themselves from direct interaction, and finally, from any contact at all.  Apollo might have been a dissenting vote, though in the end, he knows the same tragedy as his comrades.

Would that we not suffer the same fate!

Four stars.



The next episode of Trek is TOMORROW! You won't want to miss it:

Here's the invitation!



[September 22, 1967] (Star Trek: "Amok Time")


by Gideon Marcus

Back in the Starship Again

The Fall season of television is upon us again.  Some shows from last season did not survive the chopping block: good riddance to Gilligan's Island and It's About Time, genuine tears for the loss of Green Hornet, and shrugs for Love on a Rooftop, Laredo, Occasional Wife, and like that.

One show got a genuine ending: Richard Kimball finally caught the one-armed man, and now he can live a normal life.  At least, until The Invaders get him…


Notice how she keeps her pinky fingers just out of sight…

Other shows were renewed–from the stalwart Gunsmoke to the Mexican…er…African spectacle that is Tarzan.  But let's face it.  The program we were really waiting for was Star Trek, what Analog editor John Campbell called, "the first adult science fiction on television".

Would series star William Shatner make good on his threat to "put more of himself in the role"?  Would new cast member Walter Koenig, as Ensign Chekov, be as endearing as the rest of the crew?  After that dynamite, if not completely consistent, first season (not to mention a summer of reruns that held up remarkably well), would the second season knock our socks off?

I, for one, was not disappointed.  Production pulled out all the stops, most notably with an entire new score provided by Gerald Fried (echoes of which can be heard in his scores for episodes of the 1966 spy show, The Man Who Never Was and in this week's debut episode of Mission: Impossible).  Trek veteran, Joe Pevney, does a commendable job with directing, particularly in the scenes set on Vulcan, Dutch angles conveying the temporary madness of Mr. Spock.  Mainstream science fiction once again contributes a script, this time from the pen of the illustrious Ted Sturgeon.

Chekov does not have many lines with which to distinguish himself, but his repartee with Mr. Sulu is engaging.  As for Shatner, well, he definitely brings a few more personal tics to his portrayal of Captain Kirk.  It's a bit more broad, more punctuated a performance.  But he's still enjoyable to watch, convincing in the role.


"So, how did you enjoy working with Mike, Mickey, and Peter?"

That's the technical aspects.  What about the episode itself?  For that, I'll turn to my esteemed colleagues on the panel…


Ancient Rituals and Alien Biology


by Erica Frank

The episode begins with McCoy telling Kirk his first officer has a problem: he's been restless, avoiding meals. Kirk doesn't believe it; Spock is probably just meditating and wishes to avoid human contact. Then they see nurse Chapel ducking away from Spock's quarters as Spock throws a bowl of plomeek soup at her.

Spock is angry enough to be violent. This is shocking to everyone — Chapel, McCoy, Kirk, and the audience.

Has he been dosed with some kind of drug? Perhaps he was exposed to a natural hallucinogen that had the reverse effect of the pollen in This Side of Paradise — one that made him angry instead of happy.

No, he hasn't been drugged; his body is turning against him. The Vulcan mating drive will kill Spock if he doesn't get to his betrothed on Vulcan, with whom he was mind-bonded when they were seven years old.


Young T'Pring, looking every bit as serious as we expect a Vulcan child to be.
Kirk and McCoy accompany him to the ceremony, the Koon-ut-kal-if-fee. When they arrive, they get a shock: T'Pring demands that Spock win her in combat according to the ancient Vulcan rites.

Spock has no choice. He is deep in the plak tow, the blood fever; he must fight for her or die. T'Pring, accompanied by Stonn, chooses Kirk as her champion! Spock objects, but the officiating matriarch T'Pau simply asks, "Art thee Vulcan or art thee human?"

"I burn, T'Pau," he answers. "My eyes are flame. My heart is flame." He may not like T'Pring's choice, but if he cannot walk away, he cannot deny her.

Kirk accepts, figuring he'll roll with the punches, fall down, and leave Spock to his bride. After he agrees to fight, T'Pau informs him that this fight is to the death.


They fight with lirpa, a Vulcan weapon. Kirk, of course, manages to get his shirt torn.

After they disarm each other, McCoy treats Kirk with tri-ox, intended to counter Vulcan's thin air and heat, to make him closer to Spock's equal. They switch to ahn woon, a weighted long belt, and Spock uses his to capture and strangle Kirk… to death.

With Kirk's death, the blood fever fades, and Spock is once more his rational self. Before they leave, he insists that T'Pring explain her choice.

Spock, she says, has become a legend, and she does not wish to marry a legend. She wants Stonn. Kirk does not want her; if Kirk won, he would leave her to Stonn. If Spock won, they would wed… and he would leave, and she would still have Stonn.


T'Pring coldly explains why she made Spock fight his best friend instead of her chosen.

I think T'Pring has vastly underestimated Kirk's potential for spite. If he “won” her by killing Spock, he might haul her in front of a Federation tribunal for arranging the death of a Starfleet officer. He certainly wouldn't leave her to enjoy her boyfriend.

McCoy asks Spock for his orders, since he's in charge now. (I have trouble believing this; if a first officer kills his captain, he just takes over?) They beam back to the Enterprise, where Spock makes plans to resign and turn himself in.

Kirk comes out of sickbay to interrupt him. Apparently, McCoy actually dosed Kirk with something that simulates death. Everyone is fine, and now they can get back to their diplomatic mission.


Spock is overjoyed to see him alive. Because Starfleet needs good captains, of course. Not because it matters to him personally.

Color me unconvinced. What kind of "mate or die" drive vanishes if the one driven defeats his opponent? Why lose interest upon winning? I can only imagine that Spock's use of the mind-meld technique with various humans and aliens has weakened his bond with T'Pring, and that the shock of losing his dear friend completely erased whatever remaining mental bond he had with her.

That quibble aside, this really was fine stuff. "Amok Time" was perhaps the first true Star Trek episode, rather than a random science-fiction story with Trek characters. It built on what we know about the universe and the crew, and showed us a challenge that only they could face—which they resolved in a way that only they would.

Five stars.

The Birds and the Bees are not Vulcan


by Andrea Castaneda

It’s something to behold: a stoic man in his most vulnerable state. For the first time in the series (at least, without the interference of a spore or mickeyed water), the audience sees Spock’s steely veneer crack. He dashes soup across the room, verbally accosts his crewmates, and even undermines his captain’s orders. Yet his insubordination is revealed to come from a great source of anguish for the Vulcan. The anguish from having to suppress a biological drive, and being unable to tell anyone about it.

Now, I am no Vulcan. My blood does not “burn” and I am not compelled to return to my birthplace to spawn. But the fear, shame, and guilt he experiences– for something he has no control over– was something that deeply resonated with me, especially in my teenage years.

I’ll spare you the details, but my "birds and the bees talk" was nothing short of excruciating. “Don’t do this,” and “don’t do that”, lest you will be seen as a fallen woman. Any further questions I had regarding such an “uncouth” topic were treated with either avoidance, reluctance, or disgust. I shan't disclose how I cope with my nature now, as it is– to quote the vulcan– “a deeply personal thing”. However, what I will say is that my parents' fumbling attempts at sex-ed negatively impacted me growing up. It taught me to never speak up about “shameful” things, which in turn led me astray in many situations. I am relieved to see today’s youth has become more open and matter-of-fact regarding such topics. But there are still many who wish to hide behind old attitudes. Like the Vulcans, who seem partial to the same provincial mindset of my grandmother. I understand that there can be “logic” in knowing when to be prudent about such things. But considering how their biology can prove lethal when untreated, both to themselves and to others, where is the logic in choosing to avoid this topic altogether?


T’Pau explains nothing to Kirk before handing him a blade and telling him to fight his best friend.

The way I see it, regarding both the Vulcans and us humans, it is an exercise in futility. We want to feel safe and secure, and the only assured way to do so is to master nature and our own bodies. But it is hubris to think that a strong enough will can override mother nature. Our bodies will fail us, in one way or another. And the only way to conquer that fear is to confront it head on. The way to start is to name what ails us.

Of course, Vulcans and the world of Star Trek are not real but rather created by our human men– and at least one woman– here on earth. This epsiode leaves me asking why the writers, who wish to portray an idealized future, still feel that discussing sex is a terrifying prospect? [q.v. "Charlie X" (Ed.)]

Still, apart from my quandaries, this episode delivered a compelling story. It included wonderful details that upped the stakes, gave us a look into the enigmatic Vulcan culture and the politics of the federation. Season two starts by hitting a home run and I sincerely hope it continues this momentum.

Five stars.


POST-MODERN LOVE


by Joe Reid

Something old.

Something new.

Ritual combat.

Something blue.

Most of these are considered tokens of good luck.  The illogical creatures that we humans are, we rely on good luck charms, because of all the lying, trickery, bribery, and violence that we employ to convince other people to marry us doesn’t seem to be enough to make our unions last.  According to the U.S. Department of Health, Education, and Welfare, last year (1966) there were 1,857,000 U.S. marriages.  The same year 499,000 divorces happened.  The number of divorces for last year is 26% of the number of marriages.  With tallies like these, it’s obvious that we need help.

Along came the exciting first episode of the 2nd season of Star Trek to show us how beings who value logic and reason engage in the act of marriage.  How, you ask?  They do it with lying and trickery, and of course, violence.

“Amok Time” is the name of this week’s episode of Star Trek.  I want to start off by saying that it was splendid looking!  From the futuristic space outfits to the details in the props.  I was flown off to another world!


Silver future fashion

The show starts out with the Vulcanian (or Vulcan), Mr. Spock, behaving in a “most illogical” way.  He acts like a brute, breaking dishes and yelling at everyone.  Even Captain Kirk gets an ear full.  Through the course of the tale, we learn that Mr. Spock lost all his logic and control because of a Vulcan biological stage which causes him to burn with desire.  For what?  The same thing that the men of our day desire.  A girl.  Our calm and honest Mr. Spock becomes loud and irate.  His indiscretions extend to lying to the new Russian kid to send the Enterprise to Spock’s home planet of Vulcan.  He lies so badly that he doesn’t even remember that he lied!  How many of today’s guys and gal’s tell zingers to friends, family, each other and even priests, to get to that someone they desire the most?

We then witness Spock, Kirk, and Dr. McCoy on Vulcan, where we see a bridal party with a wise matronly leader. Also Spock’s soon to be wife, T’Pring, and a bunch of big soldier types that are guards. One thing stood out to me during this scene.  “Why isn’t the girl that Spock is supposedly marrying carrying on the same way that he is?”, I wondered.  She was as placid as still waters.  We all know what they say about still waters, and it isn’t long until we are shown the depths of trickery that T’Pring is willing to sink to.

We’ve all heard stories of friends who come to blows over a girl.  So why and how would people in an advanced future society based on reason and logic descend to fisticuffs over a female?  Why?  Because she wanted them to.  She manipulated friends to fight, not because she loved one of them, but because she didn’t love either of them, and it served her true purpose to have one eliminated.  In the end we learned that even though Spock was driven insane with passion for T’Pring, she didn’t want him at all.  She went through all the pomp and circumstance just to create a situation where she wouldn’t have to be with Spock.  Even if it cost him or Kirk their lives.  Which it just might have.

So, what is the current day parallel of T’Pring’s trickery?  From Cleopatra to Mata Hari, some ladies have only wanted a man that they can control.  Even today they are willing to say and do anything to get that.  “Amok Time” showed a wife that was willing to destroy Spock to get Stonn.  A shell of a man that she can lead.


T’Pring rejects Spock.

One of the reasons that I find Star Trek so special is because, even though it takes us to strange new worlds, at the end of the day what we find on those worlds is ourselves reflected back at us.  The situations in this episode were barely exaggerated reflections of the kind of people that we are and become when engaging in modern love.

5 stars

A Queer Episode


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

This is perhaps my favorite episode of Star Trek so far; as Erica says, it may also be the first truly Star Trek episode of the series. A braided narrative of complex alien marriages, fraught male friendships, and taboo-filled – and taboo-breaking – reproductive rituals? Sign me up.

Last Spring, I reviewed a CBS "documentary" called "The Homosexuals," , noting that "There is something profoundly queer in enjoying science fiction and fantasy." I found this episode delightfully queer (meaning "odd" or "unusual", of course), each strand of the narrative challenging norms and assumptions in different ways.

The first queer thread in the episode was the Vulcan concept of marriage, starting with a wedding ritual that Spock says is "Less than a marriage but more than a betrothal." It is an in-between thing, this ritual we see, with some of the romantic declarations one might find at a regular church wedding, but also some theatrics and roles that have no analog to American marriage customs. One thing which stuck out to me was the queerness of the officiant, if we can call T'Pau that, being a woman. Sure, in Sweden and Norway, there are women conducting marriages, as well as in a precious few Presbyterian and Baptist churches (I have not heard of any women rabbis or imams, but I am open to correction). But amongst the more high-church, smells-and-bells Christian denominations, even the fairly open-minded Episcopal Church isn't allowing women further than the deaconate (and that is being debated today at General Convention LXII in Seattle; one hopes for more progress on that front). As it stands, a woman overseeing a highly formal wedding is pretty science fictional for most viewers.

The second queer thread was the intense relationships between Spock, Kirk, and McCoy. In a short television set hour, we saw these men throw themselves at each other; violate orders; disregard medical protocol; lie to diplomats of an allied planet to protect each other; fight to insert each other into the sacred rituals of a secretive culture; and lest we forget, roll around in the dirt ripping their clothes up. In our world, I see men often forced into stoicism, criticized for exhibiting any strong emotions other than anger (or perhaps enthusiasm for sports), for getting too involved as a father, for expressing affection toward each other. In that context, it was a balm to see Spock's beatific smile at Kirk's survival, McCoy's tenderness and protectiveness towards Kirk's "dead" body, or Spock's simple but powerful defense of his friends: "They are not outworlders. They are my friends. I am permitted this." One might hope for a day when all people are "permitted" this.

The third queer thread was the deeply taboo – to Spock at least – topic of Vulcan reproduction. As Andrea points out, the conversation between Kirk and Spock on this topic is deeply, and to me comically, awkward. But it also lit my imagination on fire, like all good science fiction and fantasy does. What does Spock mean when he analogizes his species' form of reproduction to spawning salmon? Is it just the traveling aspect, or does he have some kind of roe sacks hidden under his greenish-skin? And what does it mean for an entire society of beings who prize emotionlessness, and call it "logic" , to have every single member of it engage in a "time of mating" which is a "madness which rips away our veneer of civilisation"? It is queer both because this approach to reproduction exists at an oblique angle to our own human conceptions of it, but also because it deeply challenges our own assumptions about how other intelligent lifeforms might structure their societies, pick their bed fellows, and understand both their and our families and worlds.

A few of us here wrote stories, cocktail recipes, songs, articles, games, and drew art for a summer fanzine Gideon organized called The Tricorder, touching on the strange and wonderful worlds that Season 1 of Star Trek had given us to play in. With all of these new, queer threads to unwind and reknit into new creations, I can't wait to see where Tricorder #2 might take us.

Five stars.



Speaking of Star Trek, it's on TONIGHT!  By all the Ghods, it looks like an interesting one…

Here's the invitation!

Also, copies of The Tricorder are still available — drop us a line for details!



[May 22, 1967] Parable in SF's clothing (The Space Trilogy, by C.S. Lewis)


by Joe Reid

I'm a man who enjoys science fiction, having read his share of it.  I am also a student of religious thought, having again also read a good amount.  I did not start off reading the books of C.S. Lewis with the intent of seeking spiritual insights.  After all, I received none on reading The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (1950) as a child.  Nor did I come to a better understanding of forgiveness in the pages of Prince Caspian (1951).  I learned nothing of redemption from The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (1952).  The Silver Chair (1953) did not strengthen my grasp on the doctrine of sanctification.  Although the concepts were present on the page, my young heart only cared about the adventures in the wonderful land of Narnia.  I loved all of the Chronicles of Narnia.  It wasn’t until I read them again as a man, through mature eyes, that I bore witness to what lay beneath.  On that second reading I was also no stranger to many of Lewis’ other works. 

Lewis was an absolutely brilliant Christian philosopher.  Some of his seminal works of religious thought include Mere Christianity (1952), The Problem of Pain (1940), and The Four Loves (1960).  He is better known for his other works of fiction, which include The Screwtape Letters (1942), The Great Divorce (1945), and Till We Have Faces (1956).  All of these beautifully penned volumes are rich treasures of wisdom, and I found them edifying to no end.

Clive Staples Lewis passed away a few short years ago in 1963.  His death spurred me to revisit his works.  It was then that I came across books of his that I was not at all familiar with: Three books of what appear to be science fiction from the hand of a writer that I grew to love and admire.  The first of these works was released back in 1938. Suffice it to say, I was very enthusiastic to read the stories that have come to be known as the Space Trilogy.

As a man who enjoys science fiction, and who wrote such a glowing preface regarding my love for the works of C.S. Lewis, one would imagine that I also loved The Space Trilogy.  The short answer is yes, I enjoyed reading these books.  That said, I do not consider these books to be works of science fiction.  Some discussion is required to figure out what they actually are, if not science fiction. 

The first of the three novels, Out of the Silent Planet (1938), is the nearest that any of these books come to being SF.  It follows Elwin Ransom, a philologist, who is abducted by two men, taken from Earth in their spacecraft to the planet Mars for an unknown purpose. (Philology is the study of the structure of language and literature.) What follows is a story rich in the descriptions of the world of Mars, or Malacandra as it is known to the native species, deep connections with the peoples of the world, and revelations as to the histories of Mars, Earth, mankind and Martian kind are laid out before us.  For me, it was a pleasurable read.

Although there are elements of science in the story, the world and the inhabitants of the world might as well have been Narnian.  Their stated motivations of familial love for some and ambition for others appeared to be the foundation for his later, more popular works.  Also, no one in the book felt alien; fantastic, yes, but not alien.  The Martians or Malacandrans, in the end, showed more humanity than any of the humans in the story. 

If I were to place this book into a genre, I would call it fantasy/science fiction or science-fantasy for short.

In the second novel, Perelandra (1943), we visit Elwin Ransom again.  He is a changed man living in a world changed by the events of the first novel.  This time, Ransom is called to the adventure he embarks upon by a being he met in the last book, an adventure to Perelandra, the planet Venus, to help a woman on this young world from being corrupted.

The tone of this book starts off the same as the tone in the middle of the first book.  The world is beautiful, yet different than Malacandra.  Everything is fresh and exciting, until the introduction of one character that changes everything.  It’s a story that felt enriching at first, but suddenly became disturbing.  An object of relaxation which became a source of anxiety.  An anxiety that one is not released from until near the end of Perelandra.

Perhaps Perelandra might qualify as science fiction?  The answer again is no.  This book forced me to stop reading for a time recover from the dread and terror that were a part of this story.  I found myself frightened not only of the characters, but for them at the same time.  Reaching the end of Perelandra and escaping with my life was the reward for completing the volume.  It's an excellent book, but none of it is science fiction: there are no elements of the world or the characters that are forward looking or advanced.  Even the method employed to travel to Venus was more ancient and magical than science.

The final book of the Space Trilogy is called, That Hideous Strength (1945).  The entirety of this story is set on Earth (Thulcandra).  We are introduced to new characters: a newly married couple named Mark and Jane Studdock, both well educated and ambitious young people.  This story overall is cold and gray.  Gone are the colors and wonders of the other worlds. 

Earth is the way that it is because of events that were revealed in the other books.  The tone of this story is very heavy and very dark, becoming heavier and darker with each turned page.  The reader that perseveres is rewarded with a turn of fate so utterly unexpected and satisfying that one is left feeling well served by the story, even though some of what happened made absolutely no sense at all.

Again, this is not science fiction.  The scientific elements in this story are so devoid of hope that the solution to the main dilemma of the book has to find its redemption from the fantastic.  Neither is this story fantasy, nor terror. 

This volume successfully avoids a genre and it is not until one takes all 3 novels together as a unified work that a genre can be laid to bear on the triptych. 

In the same way that a mature reading of the Chronicles of Narnia as an adult reveals them to be at the core works of Christian philosophy to educate children, the Space Trilogy is a work of Christian philosophy to educate adults.  The type of adult that enjoys science fiction.

These volumes are philosophy lectures cleverly wrapped in the garb of science fiction.  This is not a criticism: I find them to be beautiful, terrible, revolting and inspiring.  I love them for what they are regardless of what they pretend to be. 

Another reader, who does not hold the same religious baggage that I carry, might find The Space Trilogy of C.S. Lewis boring at times and heavy handed at others.  Unless one develops a desire to finish the stories, as I did, each book provides the user with many opportunities to exit and I assume that many do.

Again, I love the stories in the Space Trilogy, not necessarily because of what happened in them, but more because of how it made me feel and where it left me in relation to my faith when all was said and done.  I would recommend this series to those who already love the works of C.S. Lewis and readers of science fiction who hold religious convictions.  I would not recommend it to readers of science fiction that do not.

5 stars