Beam Me Up, Shaun

I don’t know about you guys, but I am really looking forward to the new Star Trek movie coming out in a week. I haven’t been this excited since the last new Star Trek movie was coming out in a week, but unfortunately my high level of excitement usually only lasts about 23 minutes into the movie when it becomes apparent that it is yet another dud which falls short of Gene Roddenberry’s magnificent vision of the future. There is always hope, however, that this time will be different.

Talking about Star Trek to someone who is not a fan is like discussing the Pope with a Parsi, they probably won’t get it; but good cinema should transcend all our preconceptions. For example, the Harry Potter movies were not nearly as homo-erotic as I thought they would be and Charles Bronson’s Death Wish series turned out to be only a marginally apt metaphor for the remaining potential of his acting career. Fact is, I like a lot more movies than I dislike and I tend to give credit for making an effort, even when the results suck beyond the most cynical anticipation. That’s why I have been able to endure multiple screenings of even Star Trek V, which was as bloated and incoherent as a Michelle Bachmann speech.

Basically what I like about Star Trek is that it imagines a world where smart guys rule, the evil-doers always either come to understand the error of their ways or get disintegrated, and freaky shit happens ALL THE TIME. Gene Roddenberry imagined a future when humans had gotten past Republican negativism and straight-out adopted a technological Marxism that eschewed all that dictatorship of the proletariat crap. It is, after all, science-fiction, but it is so hopeful and so about wicked space battles that you don’t want to know if it’s intellectually flawed. I want to believe in a positive future for humankind which doesn’t involve the complete eradication of kick-ass guy stuff. In Roddenberry’s world there is no racism, sexism, botulism or baptism, and that all suits me fine.

Captain Kirk is the father I never had and almost everything I learned about being a man came right off the late 60’s TV screen. Loyalty to friends, commitment to ideals, but not so much commitment that you can’t contemplate even better ideals and you are obligated to do retarded shit that defeats the whole purpose; enjoy a good fight, even with a lizard-man, but always help your vanquished foe to his feet and give him some dilithium crystals for the voyage home, never panic, lie with a straight face when virtue is on the line, don’t judge a creature’s value by its appearance, always try diplomacy first, have fun, even when Doomsday is on your ass, and the color of woman’s skin is the most irrelevant of all considerations. Not a bad roadmap for a journey into manhood.

I will have my fat behind parked in the theater’s stadium seating on May 8th, God willing, and I will be hoping to see J.J. Abrams work his magic on my life-long companions aboard the Enterprise, but I will love every minute of it, even if it sucks, because I know not even a bad recitation of the Gettysburg Address can mask the power behind its ideas.