Friday, July 31, 2009

Goddamn Linux Crap of Wonderfulness

My DVD player doesn't work, my CD burner doesn't work, and I keep forgetting how to use the command line to do the things I want to do. Flash won't install and no one wants to help me and I tried to download a new RPG with my boyfriend but it won't run in Wine.

But the cool thing is I get to try to fix these things myself. I feel powerful. This is wonderful.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

The Lost World

There were a lot of things that went wrong with Voyager and I'm not even bringing Genvieve What's-her-face into it. This makes it tough. On one hand, I love Star Trek. On the other hand, sometimes you just look at the TV and go, "Really????"

I think Wil Wheaton must do that a lot.

But I digress.

My three year old cousin once said to me, "Auntie, do you still love me when I'm being bad?" She was intent on testing the limits of my love that day, running in circles and screaming when we were trying to eat and sticking nails in power outlets.

"I love you good and I love you bad," I told her. She frowned. "But how can you love something that's bad?"

Out of the mouths of babes.

Remember The Lost World? What a big fat annoying donut hole that was for our troubles? How disappointing and frustrating and sad that movie was (and Sam Neil hadn't even sold out yet).

Remember the Voyager that came with it?

The worst part is that I can't even play The Voyager Game with this one, which is the only props I can give them. It's bad, but at least it's original. Sort of. Except they were clearly trying to do a piece on Evolution vs. Creationism.

Now I'm not gonna touch that one, probably mostly because I don't actually care. I figure we're here, and since no one could write when we were being created I doubt either record is entirely accurate. If you need a description of how accurate paleontology can be, look at this episode. They make some interesting observations about the crew from the scientific standpoint.

Two things bug me. First, since when do we let the computer do our thinking for us (*cough* Janeway *cough*) and second, what happened to the line? You know the one. The one that kept Shatner's monster at the end of 5 from being Satan? (You know it would have been better if it was.) That line. The one where we don't talk about religion in the future, unless you count McCoy's "Goddammit, Jim!" Or we're on DS9, but that's another story. For a show that didn't take risks, they sure tried to here.

And failed because they fought the wrong battle. This isn't an evolution story at all, I realized. It's Galileo. The establishment censoring the man who uses science to find his answers because they don't want to lose their control.

From that standpoint, and without the dinosaurs, we might have an episode.

Snerkles Snerkles! Look out Wesley!

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Brannon Braga Confesses

There it is in black and white. During a 24 panel, Brannon confessed to killing Star Trek.

Maybe now some of the people who haven't healed yet can begin to.


Why does it bother me when people recognize my Trekkieness? I got this tattoo for a reason after all. This morning when I was waiting for the bus, a woman approached me. "Oh, you like Star Track," she said. "That's so cool. I love Star Track."

Somehow, I wasn't convinced, and I hate it when people over the age of ten say Star Track. Until then I figure it's forgiveable.

She continued trying to make small talk. The bus was late and I hadn't had my coffee. My grim outlook on life in general from my lack of caffeine did not deter her in the slightest. I wanted to be really nasty and tell her to shut the bleep up, but I see this woman waiting for the bus every day and somehow that didn't seem conducive to good neighbor relations. So instead I just stared in a direction that was not hers and grunted occasionally, playing up the no-caffeine thing, which did not take much work. She prattled on about the weather and Star Track and how they made a new movie, or maybe a TV show, she wasn't sure.

The bus arrived and I let her get on first so I wouldn't have to sit by her.

I transferred to the MAX and while I was sitting there with my computer, playing NetHack like a nerd should, I notice this guy trying to maneuver into my line of sight. Trying really hard. He gets to where he knows I can see him and flashes me a Live Long and Prosper! I kid you not!

Now what this says to me is that this stranger has been staring at my boobs.

Which is stupid, I mean I got this tattoo where I got it for a reason. It's where it would be were I wearing a uniform, which I'm not. I'm not that chick on Trekkies whose boss lets her wear her uniform to work. That's just nuts. You have to live in the real world sometimes, sorry. So anyway, that's when it hits me why this annoys me so much. I do live in the real world. I work hard to stay here. I play normal sometimes and I have a job where people come to me for my expertise on something normal and not Star Trek. I fit in with my friends, most of whom aren't Trekkies (although some are nerds) I have a boyfriend (who is a nerd, but has also learned to live in the rest of the world too) and I like it here. It's a delicate balance between compromising who you are and coexisting with the rest of the planet.

So when someone pulls me apart from them, comments on my obvious Trekkieness, suddenly I know that they see me as other, unique. I don't have any identity here. At work, I am Gillian the Bra Knowledge Person, and my tattoo shows but that's okay because it helps to demonstrate the uses of lingere tape. At home, I am just Gillian and I don't have to be anyone else so who cares about my tattoo. No one even mentions it, although they do mention Star Trek. So what? I take notes on Star Trek for fun, for crying out loud. It's allowed there.

But here, I'm just the chick with the tattoo on her boob, being noticed for my association with a TV show. The worst part is that these people are trying to be nice, trying to include me, but they just point out my obvious isolation without meaning to. If John Travolta hijacked this train today, I wouldn't be the passenger in the background, I'd be the one that stands out. My function in the plot is to give the crowd a face with my quirkiness.

And now I just realized that I never should have seen Pelham 123.