Tidbits II.

This can only end in tears.
We've hired a woman who can sneer and say "Star Trek" at the same time.

Just when you thought it was safe.
Yes, it's the movie sequel you've dreamed of, the followup to Piranha 3D - what else but Piranha 3DD.  Ms. Smith, who was responsible for me seeing the previous iteration in the series, has already issued an invitation to see the film, and I feel some kind of obligation to my blog - an oblogation, perhaps - to see just how much worse it could be.  (Actually, Laurie was kind enough - sure, let's call it "kind" - to send a link to the preview, for those of you with a morbid sense of curiousity:)

Everyone who would name their son "China" please raise your hands.
I finished Railsea, the new China Miéville novel that I bought at Borderlands Books in San Francisco, and sadly, it never quite made it for me.  My friend Colin also agrees that it lacks the kick of some of his other books. But I still don't think he should go back to the New Crobuzon series until he's ready to, too many sequels seem to have been written just to make a buck off an earlier success.

 "Charles always wanted to build bridges."

Length of Golden Gate Bridge:  8,981 feet.
Distance from Alcatraz to shore:  6,600 feet.   

Hey, that scene at the end of X-Men III would actually work!  (Well, at least in terms of distance.  Unless Magneto is supporting the bridge constantly, it couldn't stay up like that, that's not how suspension bridges work.)

Hey, they're doing the Trash Compacter at 1:20!
Again, how much worse could things get?  If you thought the Kinect Star Wars Dance mode thing was bad, look at this:

"We thank you for your patience."

"What we want to see before commercial operations is no surprises. We could reach no surprises relatively quickly or we could take a while to get there." 

Virgin Galactic Chief Executive George Whitesides

Although Sir Richard Branson was originally planning to take his first orbital flight by the end of this year, it was announced today by Virgin Galactic that they are expecting to finish developing their rocket engine "within a month or two".  That rather fuzzy timeline, coupled with the need for actual flight testing, will probably push commercial flights to the end of 2013.  (Which, let's be honest, may well mean the start of 2014.)

Wow - I've heard of flight delays, but this is ridiculous...

- Sid

P.S.  Just a reminder, froods, tomorrow is Towel Day!

Archeo-logical.

I'm currently reading Jack McDevitt's The Engines of God, which among other things deals with an archeological investigation of an extinct alien race. Although the archeological team has implausibly* managed to develop a partial knowledge of the alien language, they also rely on visual cues and dating techniques to establish developments and setbacks in the alien society.

At one point, there's a reference to the aliens losing some very basic knowledge due to dark ages at various points in their history, to the point of rediscovering twice that their world was not the centre of the universe. Really, thought I? I wonder if the later societies revere the earlier more accomplished cultures? This wouldn't require writing as a key - Western architecture owes a strong debt to classical Roman and Greek roots, via the British Empire and Napoleonic France. We also display frequent use of Roman numerals and Latin tags - again, information that could be observed and compared, rather than based on being able to read any of the words involved.

Later, they're examining an enigmatic alien structure, and one of the characters comments that "...you’d expect the central tower to be the tallest of the group. Not the shortest. They just don’t think the way we do.”  Part of the bias toward higher central towers in our culture is a legacy of our collective militaristic background. Castles are constructed with a higher central keep so that if the walls are taken by the enemy, the defenders can retreat to the central fortifications and still maintain the advantage of height.  Architecture with lower central features might well indicate a less bellicose cultural background.

Ha, maybe I should have been an archeologist - or a science fiction writer.

- Sid

* I'm sorry, but I'm completely sceptical about the possibilities of translating a completely alien language without some sort of Rosetta Stone.  For the alternative viewpoint, recommended reading is H. Beam Piper's short story Omnilingual, in which scientific constants such as the table of elements provide an initial point of access for translation.  Which might well work, but you'd be a long time figuring out Shakespeare from that.

Plus popcorn sales.

Here we are, the global financial situation is in a state of near-chaos, there's record unemployment in countless countries, and yet, and yet, there was enough spare money floating around for The Avengers to pull in an international box office total of over 1.25 billion dollars to date. 

Perhaps Greece should make a superhero movie.

- Sid

P.S.  Yes, that's right, the original 1963 lineup of the Avengers did not include Captain America, Hawkeye or the Black Widow, and Ant Man and the Wasp didn't make the cut for the movie.

The Other Change of Hobbit.

What I offered to do was to sit in the front window of a bookstore for a full week, and to attempt to write a complete story every day for six days.  The store I offered to do this gig for is the famous sf shop in Los Angeles, A Change of Hobbit....(We here in Los Angeles who work in the genre feel very protective about A Change of Hobbit, and we like to help out when we can.)

Harlan Ellison, Strange Wine

Okay, history lesson.  Many many years ago, back before Star Wars dragged science fiction kicking and screaming into the forefront of popular culture, being a science fiction fan was like living in a small town.  It was a relatively small community of writers and fans in which everyone sort of knew everyone else, or at least recognized their names when they appeared on a book cover.

And even though it was long long before Twitter™ and Facebook™ and their ilk turned everyone's lives into public events, it was easy to find out about what was going on just by reading editorials and letters to magazines and introductions to novels and so forth.  As a result, even though I was a teenager living on the fringe of northern Ontario in Canada, I was aware that there was a science fiction and fantasy bookstore in California called A Change of Hobbit, and later on some kind of related store called The Other Change of Hobbit.

Fast forward to 2012, and here I am on the BART train, headed north from San Francisco to Berkeley en route for The Other Change of Hobbit.  The original Change of Hobbit in Los Angeles has been closed for about a decade, and sadly, the Other Change of Hobbit web site indicates that they've been also having financial problems, and were in fact closed for six months, re-opening in March of this year.

I have to be honest and say that I wasn't very impressed by the store space itself, due to the plethora of banker's boxes blocking access to aisles and bookcases.  This may have been somehow related to the aforementioned money issues, but it made casual browsing a bit difficult.  However, the selection was good, and I was pleased to add a chapbook of Ursula K. LeGuin poetry to my collection, along with a couple of new paperbacks and an Ace Double.*

I was also pleased to meet the store cats, two affable shorthairs named Sam and Trouble. After some initial cautiousness, Sam concluded that I was a trustworthy sort and decided to hop up on my shoulders and ride around while I browsed. (We eventually came to a careful parting of the ways in the L section of the new paperbacks.)

Overall, I have to say that I preferred the genteel natural wood presence of Borderlands to the cluttered industrial feel of The Other Change of Hobbit.  Regardless, I hope that they successfully weather their monetary storm and keep their part of our collective history alive.

- Sid

* For those of you unfamiliar with Ace Doubles, I'm in negotiations with my sister about an explanatory guest posting.  Since these negotiations have been ongoing for the entire run of The Infinite Revolution, we may need to start discussing some sort of collaborative effort...

Zero hour nine am.

And I think it's gonna be a long long time
Till touch down brings me round again to find
I'm not the man they think I am at home
Oh no no no I'm a rocket man.... 

Elton John, Rocket Man*

Do these things happen to me because I'm a science fiction geek?  I mean, if I was a big fan of, I don't know, cowboys or something like that, would I stumble across memorials to Roy Rogers or whatever every place that I went?

I ask because today I found a rocket ship in San Francisco.

I woke up this morning to clouds and fog, and a temperature that made me me grateful for my foresight in packing a sweater.  However, as I made my way downtown the clouds opened up, leaving the city with a flawless blue sky.

I decided to enjoy the changed weather by wandering along the waterfront and perhaps taking some pictures of the Bay Bridge, so I headed south along the Embarcadero.  To my astonishment, I immediately discovered a gleaming forty foot tall rocket ship à la Flash Gordon, complete with a posted route map and schedule.

To my intense disappointment, it turned out that it wasn't functional - damn shame.  If I thought that I actually had the option of catching the 11:17 to Pluto, I would have picked that over my Alcatraz tour in a flash.

(By the way, if you'd like more information about the Raygun Gothic Rocket, please visit http://www.raygungothicrocket.com for the full story.)

- Sid

* Geeks may prefer the famous William Shatner version over the original.

Gnomic statements III.

If that was Thanos, does that mean that Adam Warlock might be in the sequel?

- Sid

Much, MUCH bigger.

 

Borderlands employee:  Did you find everything?
Me:  Well, no, but I didn't expect you to have everything - I think you'd need a bigger store for that.

I'm currently in a hotel in San Francisco, attending a three day publishing conference courtesy of my employers.  (Thanks again to Donovan and JB for this great professional development opportunity.)  However, all work and no play makes Sid a dull boy, so at the end of today's official sessions I ducked out of the networking mixer and headed off in search of Borderlands Books, arguably San Francisco's premier science fiction and fantasy bookstore.

My trek was a bit more interesting than expected - let's just say that working near East Hastings in Vancouver is useful prep work for heading through San Francisco's Tenderloin District - but after a thirty-five minute walk I arrived at Borderlands' Valencia Street address.

Borderlands is a pleasant sunlit space, with both floor and bookshelves done in natural wood, and lots of space between bookcases for easy access to lower shelves.  They have a substantial and comprehensive collection of both used and new material, although I have to say that I'd be happier if they had their hardcover and trade paperbacks split up into separate areas for new and previously owned. I always find it irritating not to know what price range to expect when I pull a book off the shelf to look at the cost.

That being said, I was pleased to see that their pricing on used books was quite civilized.  I've gotten used to paying five or even six dollars for used books, so seeing three dollar used paperbacks was a nice change.

And what did I buy?  I splurged a bit in honour of my trip and bought a hardcover copy of Railsea, the new young adult novel by China Miéville which just hit the streets today.  I also picked up a paperback copy of Charles Stross' The Fuller Memorandum, part of his excellent Le-Carré-meets-Lovecraft Laundry series*, a replacement copy of Robert Frezza's quirky military SF novel A Small Colonial War, and purely on spec, Karin Lowachee's The Gaslight Dogs, about which I know nothing except what I read on the back cover.

Sadly, I didn't feel I had the time to have a cup of tea in their attached coffeeshop, although a quick look through the connecting arch showed an equally inviting venue.  I suspect that this is what Chapters is trying - and failing - to accomplish with their integral Starbucks.  Sorry, but it's really just not the same.

I was disappointed to see that the trademark Borderlands Sphinx cats were not working a shift that particular day - not only that, but the store's wooden screen door had a rip in it.  That aside, I would strongly recommend Borderlands Books - great selection, wonderful ambience, and good pricing.

However, I realize that my opening description of Borderlands as San Francisco's best genre store may be a bit contentious.  I can already hear purists yelling about The Other Change of Hobbit, but technically speaking that's in Berkeley, not San Francisco.  However, a little research reveals that they're close to a BART station...hmmm...well, it would only be fair...do I have anything planned for the day after the conference?

- Sid

* More to come on Stross in a future posting, he said optimistically.

Fifteen, perhaps?

Oh, surely it will take more than ten years for that...

- Sid

 

"Cause I Ain't no Hologram Girl…"

There has to be something in marketing DNA that makes them willing to explore any avenue, no matter how bizarre it may appear, in the interests of making a buck off some previously unexplored segment of the public.  (The first time that I really became aware of this was when I stumbled across a reference to the Hello Kitty* vibrator.)

The most recent - and more family-friendly - entry in this category comes to us courtesy of the good people over at Lucasfilm in co-operation with Microsoft, a combination which right off the bat makes me a little nervous.

And justifiably so, as it turns out. Lightsaber combat is an obvious candidate for the new Microsoft Kinect gaming system, although my first impulse would be to make damn sure that all the fragile vases and lamps were as far as possible from the Xbox.  But why stop there?  What about all the people who would rather solve their conflicts in a more, I don't know, musical manner?

And so, I give you the Kinect Star Wars Dance Mode, complete with moves like the Chewie Hug, the Speeder, the Force Push, the Trash Compacter, and the Mind Trick.  Yes, you too can compete as Han Solo, Darth Vader, Princess Leia or Emperor Palpatine in an epic dance-off that will settle the fate of the galaxy!!!!

Or not.  Frankly, in retrospect the whole thing makes me feel a lot more charitable towards Jar Jar Binks.

- Sid

 

*  Or Hello Klitty, as I tend to think of it.

Damn, there goes my carefully maintained PG rating...

 

Admittedly only for geeks, but still.

Felicia Day is a GODDESS.

- Sid

 

The Rewrite War.

Let's hope that the mystery of time travel is never solved, because a war fought with the tools available through temporal manipulation would make the destruction and death caused by the great wars of the past pale in comparison.  A true time war could eliminate entire civilizations: man, woman and child - but without ever spilling a drop of blood, because in a true time war, they would never have even existed.

One of the ongoing memes on Doctor Who has been just such a conflict, the Great Time War, which completely destroyed both the Time Lords and the Daleks,* but in spite of frequent references very few actual details have been introduced.  How would you fight a war in - or with - Time? 

On an individual basis, time travel would stretch and compress the phenomenon of combat.  Soldiers would flicker in and out of battle, taking months to recover from wounds if necessary, then return to the fight only an instant after leaving it.  It's not impossible that once the war had started (if it's even possible to use the linear concepts of "start" and "end") there would only be one battle which would make up the entire war.

In fact, you only need one soldier on each side.  It would be possible to invest the total scientific and military efforts available into the production of a single perfect soldier armed with every conceivable option for defense and offense, then duplicate them into near-infinity by time jumps to a single destination from multiple points in their timeline**.  Roger Zelazny offers this scenario in Creatures of Light and Darkness:

Thirty seconds ago, Wakim is standing behind the General and Wakim is standing before the General, and the Wakim who stands behind, who has just arrived is that instant, clasps his hands together and raises them for a mighty blow upon that metal helm—  

—while thirty-five seconds ago, the Steel General appears behind the Wakim of that moment of Time, draws back his hand and swings it—  

—while the Wakim of thirty seconds ago, seeing himself in fugue, delivering his two-handed blow, is released to vanish, which he does, into a time ten seconds before, when he prepares to emulate his future image observed—  

—as the General of thirty-five seconds before the point of attack sees himself draw back his hand, and vanishes to a time twelve seconds previously….  

All of these, because a foreguard in Time is necessary to preserve one’s future existence…  

… And a rearguard, one’s back…

But do they really need any sort of weapons?  At some point, Time itself would become the weapon of choice - no need for explosives or bullets, simply age the enemy out of existence.

In a conventional conflict, armies capture territory.  In a time war, victory might hinge on control over eras of history.  In Brother Assassin, Fred Saberhagen suggests that in the same fashion that radar tracks enemy missiles, it would be necessary to somehow track the progress of temporal incursions into the past through the time stream, to observe the ripples of change grow to a wave and, when (or if) the threat to history had been eliminated, to watch the wave subside again as events return to normal.  Barrington J. Bayley's The Fall of Chronopolis sensibly introduces the idea of an historical archive somehow removed from the standard timestream so that it's possible to map whatever changes the enemy has made.  (Because in the standard timestream, the changes aren't changes - they're memories and documented history.)

After all, on a tactical and strategic level, the possibilities are infinite.  Ray Bradbury's story The Sound of Thunder suggests that simply crushing a prehistoric butterfly would resonate into the future with unexpected consequences.  Taking that as a baseline, consider the effects of detonating a thermonuclear weapon in the centre of Rome during the time of Julius Caesar.

Undoubtedly this would have a massive effect on the time stream, but the problem would be trying to predict exactly what that effect would be.  Does nuking Rome help or hurt your cause? Rationally, tactical strikes at an opponent's history would have more of the rapier than the bludgeon in their planning.

The key word in the preceding paragraph is "rationally".  The losing side is not always rational, and time war opens horrifying new vistas for the infamous doctrine of Mutually Assured Destruction. A defeated opponent could easily decide to activate some doomsday option that would spell the complete and utter destruction, if not the non-existence, of every life form on the planet. And no need to do anything as obvious as blowing up Rome - all that's required is a carefully placed spoonful of bleach in some primitive pool of amino acids.

And who knows?  It's entirely possible that we've already lost.

- Sid

* Well, for the standard TV science fiction series value of "completely destroyed".  There are more Daleks still running around than cockroaches in a cheap New York apartment.

 

** Or multiple destinations from a single point, come to think of it.

 

So much for affirmative action.

I think as of today I've peaked professionally - this afternoon I was called upon to create signage for porta-potties.

I asked how many units were being rented, and when I discovered that they had three on order, well, it just seemed sensible to me to be fully prepared.  Alas, it would seem that employment equity only goes so far... or perhaps more accurately, just not that far.

- Sid 

(April 13th update:  I'm sorry, if you thought this was just silly, well, obviously you've never met me in person.)

NADA.

And now, an update from our Science correspondent:

From: Donovan Hides
Sent: April-04-12 7:50 AM
To: Sid Plested
Subject: Dark Matter

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/46942006/ns/technology_and_science-space/

Interesting news article and video to support….I think the message here is that NASA has spent billions of dollars…not found a damn thing…and they are excited about it.

- Donovan

I feel like I should come to NASA's defense and make a case for exclusion being an important part of the scientific process, but really, Donovan does pretty much sum it up.

- Sid

"Done well enough for the genre."

In science fiction, sometimes it seems that so long as it's science fiction at all, the fans will love it - briefly; therefore the publishers will put it in print - briefly; therefore the writer is likely to settle for doing much less than his best. The mediocre and the excellent are praised alike by afficionados, and ignored alike by outsiders.

- Ursula K. LeGuin, A Citizen of Mondath

In response to Laurie's guest posting regarding suspension of disbelief, I'd like to suggest that when she comments that The Immortals was "done well enough for the genre", she may have put her finger on the real problem without noticing.

One of the great problems that has plagued fantasy and science fiction over the years is that the desire of fans for content has often resulted in the acceptance of lower quality.  For a long time, in many ways it was a self-fulfilling prophecy - science fiction and fantasy were ghettoized by the mainstream, and as such it was taken as a given that as long as a story had enough rocket ships and aliens, or castles and elves, that was all that was necessary.  After all, it wasn't like they were legitimate stories, you know, actual stories about real life - why would they have to be well-written?

I think that things have improved over time, and that both science fiction and fantasy have matured, but sadly I suspect that it's easier to get backing for a bad special effects movie than a bad dramatic film, and there's obviously a large market for recycled assembly-line genre novels.  When Laurie asks what people expect when watching a fantasy movie, she suggests entertainment, amusement and escape - it says a lot that quality wasn't the first thing that came to mind.

- Sid

Suspension of Disbelief.

(Contributed by Laurie Smith)

Recently I saw three movies, all very different but all with an element of fantasy. (Okay, so only one might be classified as science fiction.) These movies got me wondering:  what constitutes an acceptable level of fantasy in a movie? Too little, and it is a documentary or a reality show. Too much and the audience members shake their heads and think “Whoa. What the heck was that?”

The three movies I had the dubious pleasure of watching were:

1. The Immortals. Bleak and brutal, but done well enough for the genre.

2. Sssssss. Yes, I’m serious. That was the title. It was about a mad scientist who turned his lab assistants into snakes. I didn’t even watch the whole thing it was so ridiculous, and my rating for this unfortunate blot on the cinematographic landscape is: Booo. Hisssssssss.

3. Stonehenge Apocalypse. The closest one to actual science fiction, it was also the most enjoyable (damned by faint praise).

What do people expect when watching a fantasy movie? Entertainment? Amusement? Escape? Science fiction movies that include all three of these values seem to do well. Adding some elements of truth and plausibility give the viewer something to relate to, so they can truly imagine a world where....

A few points of verisimilitude provide an anchor for the viewer. What about a movie like District 9, where there is enough day-to-day detail of an improbable situation provided where the viewer can feel almost uncomfortable with the realism? Hey, if you haven’t seen that movie yet, don’t rent it and then go out for a large dish of prawns, you may lose your appetite.

So the rhetorical question is – what is the optimal distance from reality that a movie needs for the audience to be both willing to suspend their disbelief and be entertained enough to provide a success at the box office?

- Laurie

Bazinga.

Leonard:  Once you open the box it loses its value.

Penny:  Yeah yeah, my mom gave me the same lecture about my virginity…I gotta tell you, it was a lot more fun takin' it out and playin' with it.

The Transporter Malfunction, The Big Bang Theory

In spite of my previous post, there is a show that I do watch frequently, but it's not exactly science fiction. The Big Bang Theory is a remarkably faithful representation of the ups and downs of geek life, and it's loaded with in-jokes that require a fair degree of geekdom on the part of the audience for full appreciation.

This season, they're reached for an apotheosis of geek cred by first having Leonard Nimoy provide the voice for a Spock doll in a dream sequence, and then with the upcoming appearance of physicist Stephen Hawking.  However, I'm sad to say that they've dropped a notch in their credibility level with me as a result of the Nimoy/Spock episode, The Transporter Malfunction. 

For those of you unfamiliar with the show, Leonard and Sheldon are Caltech physicist roommates who live across the hall from a would-be actress (and full time waitress) named Penny, who has an on-again/off again relationship with Leonard.*  Leonard and Sheldon, along with their friends Howard and Rajesh, represent the zenith of socially challenged action figure and comic book collecting Star Trek versus Star Wars gamer otaku geekdom - living the dream, as it were.

In The Transporter Malfunction, Sheldon complains that Penny eats too much of their take-out food without chipping in.  Penny responds by buying gifts for Sheldon and Leonard with part of a residual cheque that she has received for some commercial work.  The gifts?  To quote Sheldon:  "A vintage mint-in-box 1975 Mego Star Trek Transporter  - with real transporter action.  Hot darn!!" Well, actually, two of them, one each for Leonard and Sheldon.  

Okay, what? I'm sorry, but a vintage mint-in-the-box anything isn't cheap (trust me, I keep an eye on the Major Matt Mason market on eBay.)  How big a cheque did Penny get, anyway?
 

Just out of curiousity, I went online to see what the 1975 Mego Transporter sells for, only to discover that show creator Chuck Lorre's research department had not fully done its job.  As it turns out, what Penny purchased were not really Mego toys as such, but the United Kingdom Palitoy Star Trek Transporter Room (Cat. No 22803, if you must know), which was never released in North America. In fact, the Palitoy logo on the box is very visible in any number of shots. **

Obviously the research team needs to hire some new geeks, because this is exactly the sort of trivia that Sheldon would have on the tip of his tongue. Feel shame, people, it took me less than a minute on Google™ to get that info. And I'm only a major geek, although if you ask me, posts like this really should count toward leveling up.

Oh, and estimated price for a Star Trek Transporter Room, depending on condition, about $300+ each.  Wow, that's a lot of Chinese food.

- Sid

* Well, actually, that kind of diminishes their credibility a bit too - the only way that a Level 80 geek is likely to connect with a beautiful blonde is in the process of buying a lap dance from her.

**  Sigh - okay, I'll throw them a bone here, Mego retained copyright on the Transporter Room toy, but I bet that Desilu Productions retained copyright on the Star Trek name as well, that's not the point.

And he's workin' the Riker beard, too.

Over recent years, I've found myself watching less and less TV, and I've finally come to the conclusion that there's a very simple reason: I miss Star Trek.

I should be specific, though - it's mostly Star Trek: The Next Generation, although the other versions and spinoffs certainly had their moments. (With the rule-proving exception of Enterprise.)

I don't deny that there have been some very well done science fiction programs over the intervening years since the cancellation of The Next Generation, but I also feel that there's some level at which they were all one-trick ponies. There's a point where Buffy the Vampire Slayer could easily have been subtitled "Sleeping with the Enemy"; Battlestar Galactica seemed to turn into a sort of paranoid schizophrenic experience in which anyone could turn out to be a Cylon; The Walking Dead is a weekly one-hour dose of the end justifying the means; and who knows what Terra Nova was trying to do. Even Doctor Who, one of my favourite shows, has a tendency toward rabbit-out-of-the-hat medicus ex machina solutions to plotlines.*

The Next Generation was different. I've mentioned in previous posts that science fiction is like an collection of odd left-handed tools stored in a toolbox that, like the Doctor's TARDIS, is bigger on the inside. Using that simile, Star Trek was like a swiss army knife that offered a multitude of clever approaches to any given situation.

I don't claim that TNG was perfect - I think we all wince a little when they rerun Qpid - but no other science fiction series has managed to come up with the sort of thought-provoking brilliance that characterized the best shows in its seven-season run.

Examples? Let's see…The Measure of a Man, the episode in which Starfleet is forced to legally decide upon the status of the android, Data: is he their property?  And in so deciding, would that mean that Data, and all androids who might follow him, would be disposable people - slaves?

How about The Drumhead, a sobering examination of witch hunts and governmental paranoia, with a chilling guest appearance by Jean Simmons as Admiral Norah Satie? Darmok, a clever anthropological plot involving first contact with an alien species that uses metaphors from their culture to communicate; The Defector, which dealt with questions of loyalty and self-sacrifice; The Outcast, which took an unexpected look at gender and sexuality issues; The Inner Light, a touchingly personal episode in which Picard lives an entire virtual lifetime as an inhabitant of a doomed planet - these were all episodes that succeeded in offering a level of quality far above the standard network fare.

In spite of my respect for those episodes and others that I haven't listed, I don't think that Paramount should rush another Star Trek series into production - again, the fate of Enterprise is a useful cautionary tale. However, I have this recurring nightmare...

Someplace in California there has to be a pitch for a new television Star Trek, as follows:

It's been 18 years since the cancellation of The Next Generation, more than enough time for all the teenagers and children on the show to become adults, graduate from Star Fleet, and prepare to take up their places on the bridge of a new Enterprise. (Or, in the case of their real-world equivalents, survive their post child actor years without succumbing to drug overdoses, anorexia, shoplifting charges, suicidal depression, or all of the above.)

Here's the cast lineup for the new show:

Thirty-nine year old Wil Wheaton as Wesley Crusher; Jon Steuer, 28, as Worf's son Alexander; Naomi Wildman from Voyager, played by Scarlett Pomers, 23; Icheb, also from Voyager, played by 33 year old Manu Intiraymi; and 33 year old Cirroc Lofton reprising his role as Jake Sisko from Deep Space Nine.

The supporting cast can be filled out with Hana Hatae as Chief O'Brien's daughter Molly, the three children trapped in the turbolift with Picard in the Next Generation episode Disaster - Erika Flores, John Christian Graas, and Max Supera - and Tom and B'Elanna's daughter Mirai from Voyager, who was just a baby anyway and which allows us to actually audition someone for one of the roles.

This is a frighteningly plausible idea, one which sometimes wakes me up in a cold sweat at two in the morning. Let's just hope that Wil Wheaton isn't eager to return to the franchise, I think that his agreement to do something like this could easily become the pebble that starts the avalanche.

- Sid

* Watching Doctor Who is a little like reading Sherlock Holmes stories. You're never expected to match the deductions of the hero, only to admire them.

Hugs your figure and costs so little!

According to Our Gods Wear Spandex, an interesting and detailed examination by author Christoper Knowles of the archetypal roots of comic book characters, surveys show that half of the population of the United States was reading comic books during the 1940s.  Now, to be honest, I'm a bit sceptical - not necessarily about the statistic, but about the fact that someone had time to do surveys about comic book readership during that particular decade.  Regardless, I recently stumbled across something that demonstrates that comic book readership at that point in time was wider than I would have thought.

Here we have a copy of Batman from 1942, with a classic simple cover that puts the spotlight - literally - on Batman and the Boy Wonder.  The back cover?  What else but an equally classic ad for Daisy Air Rifles, every boy's dream toy?  "Tell Dad to hang one of these beautiful Daisys on your Christmas Tree!"  (The astute reader will note that duty is added in Canada - plus ça change...)

Now here's Issue One of Namora from 1948.  Certainly not as well known in the modern world as Batman, Namora is the cousin of Prince Namor, the Sub-Mariner.  (Sorry, that probably doesn't help the non-geeks in the audience, but just go with it.)  A bit yellowed by time, but still a first issue, so probably worth some money.

And the advertising on the back cover?  Yes, that's right, just what you'd expect - an ad for the latest and greatest in 2 Way Stretch Girdles - in Glamorous Nude, I might add. (Extra crotches only forty-nine cents.)  This is either strong evidence that comics had a readership that extended at least as far as ladies looking for support garments, or a testament to some unknown member of the advertising sales department who could probably have sold ice to Eskimos.

You have to wonder, though - was there no duty on lingerie in 1948, or did they just not care about Canadian shoppers?

- Sid

And another thing.

Did Woola, John Carter's fanatically loyal calot, really need to look quite so much like the south end of a north bound dog?

- Sid