Kids these days!

Lately I've been watching TOS reaction videos, like these guys. 

There's a fair bit of commentary on stuff that didn't age well: the unconvincing special effects (even though  inevitably they're watching the enhanced version); the obvious use of stunt doubles (obvious on giant HD TVs, anyway); the mixed messages (Racism is bad but all Klingons are evil! Women are equal but also sex objects! Don't interfere in other cultures unless they're doing it wrong!); the clunky tag scenes capping off tragic events with a good laugh on the bridge; etc. And there's a lot of cluelessness about the cultural environment of the 1960s (Why is Chekov wearing that crazy wig and always saying stuff was invented in Russia?). But what stands out to me is how certain storytelling conventions that we didn't question in the 1960s and '70s really bother younger viewers. The most obvious example is the total reset, where events in previous episodes are rarely if ever mentioned again and don't seem to have any lasting impact on the characters. Also,  the instant love interest, where a character forms a deep romantic attachment in just a few minutes of screen time. 

These were conventions necessitated by practical and business considerations: episodes had to be accessible to new viewers; work as stand-alones; be completely wrapped up in an hour; make sense viewed in any order; not depend on actors to return for recurring roles when not under contract; consist of a teaser, 4 acts, and a tag; etc. I'd like to say that I accepted these conventions because I understood all those considerations, but I'd be lying. For one thing, I was just a kid, and for another, everyone, kids and adults, had so much less access back then to information about how media (and just about everything else) worked -- it's almost inconceivable today, even to those of us old enough to remember it.

I saw  Star Trek in its first run just a couple of times (I was very little), but became an avid fan watching daily reruns in the early 70s. My peers and I were blissfully unaware of anything and everything behind the scenes. We knew shockingly little about how TV was made -- I was 12 when I started going to conventions and learned that scenes were shot out of order, sound effects were added later, actors didn't do their own fights, etc.  The blooper reels were an entire education in TV production. We had no ability to watch anything other than what was broadcast in real time, and we never imagined watching any other way. We had culturally mediated expectations -- we just knew that TV tells stories in a certain way.  (I suppose this is not unlike an ancient Greek audience that didn't question why an onstage chorus always spoke in unison, or an Elizabethan audience that didn't question why all the actors were male.) I realize that even now, knowing what I know, when I watch TOS I fall right back into the old mindset -- or at least, part of my brain does, while the other part, which has added decades of knowledge and experience, not to mention internet access, does a simultaneous running commentary. But even so, I can't relate to not "getting" the way old TV worked; it brings out the cranky old lady in me who wants to kick these kids off her TV lawn.

Anyway, speaking of the old conventions, here's some raw footage that found its way onto YouTube -- I believe I was actually somewhere in that room.

The True Story of the Original Star Trek Prodigy

Once upon a time, a long time ago, Star Trek Prodigy wasn't a TV cartoon. Gather round as your fandom grandma tells you all about a bunch of fans on a prehistoric online service who accidentally invented role playing and their own very silly, Star Trek-based town called Roddenberryberg.

It was back in the early ‘90s, when people were first discovering that their PCs did something even better than word processing: going online. Via dial-up modem, one could connect to one of several subscription based online services, like Compuserve, America Online, and….

Prodigy. The country bumpkin of online services, Prodigy had a graphical interface and was designed to be simple to use, but lacked a lot of the functionality of the other services (in large part because, as a subsidiary of IBM, it did not use the newly developed Windows OS of archrival Microsoft, as AOL did -- but I digress). 

What other services usually called forums, Prodigy called bulletin boards – the feature that allowed users to interact via text messages (not in real time – chat would only come later). It tells you a lot about the lack of imagination of Prodigy execs that BBS were added to the service as something of an afterthought. They woefully underestimated people’s appetite for communication with total strangers about topics of interest. Of course, before long, fandom sprang up on the BBS, and Star Trek fandom was front and center. TNG was in its first run, and Trekkies who had never had an easy way to connect with fellow fans were thrilled to be able to find each other and interact.

As is wont to happen, like-minded groups began to form, creating their own “subjects” (Prodigy’s designation for user-created threads, before anyone realized that these would become more like communities than topics). One was Adult Trek Fans (ATF) – the “adult” indicating serious discussion, not porn, which was most emphatically prohibited on Prodigy. But people tended to get off topic, crack wise, and generally goof around, so a spinoff subject was created.

Thus was born Adult Silly Session, or A$$ (because Prodigy controlled language so strictly that even the word “ass” was verboten). The folks who hung out there were very happy to have a new home, and soon turned their (admittedly not very adult) wit to imagining it as a virtual town filled with bad Star Trek puns and silly pretend activities. They named their town Roddenberryberg (RBB). Soon, its citizens (RBBeings) began creating for themselves personas. Knowing nothing of role-playing games, they essentially invented a Star Trek-based digital LARP. 

Exclusive French dining was available at the Captain's Table; the big box store was, of course, Q-Mart; the cemetery was at the end of Expendable Way; you could work out at the He's Dead Gym, visit the Great Bird Aviary, launch a boat from Worf Wharf, or buy a suit at the Measure of a Man tailor shop. Popular entertainments included tribble races, the nanite marching band, and poetry night. Everyone had the job and the home of their dreams, as long as they dreamt shamelessly of Star Trek and bad puns.

One of the shortcomings of Prodigy BBS was that there was no way to download and save content. It could only be printed out. Eventually, the chancellor of Roddenberberg University (motto: RU (I am!)) – spent many hours assembling, printing, and reproducing a hard-copy collection of hundreds of these posts. Titled “CLA$$ICS: A Roddenberryberg Anthology,” she distributed it via snail mail to a few dozen RBBeings for just the cost of postage (I know, because she was me). Another (far more creative) citizen drew an amazingly detailed map of RBB, including just about every location that had ever been mentioned in the group. That, too, was sent in hard copy (in a beautiful, poster-size format) to fellow RBBeings. 

Its members came and went, but RBB and A$$ continued for several years with a fairly consistent core group, until the invention of the Web browser made proprietary online services like Prodigy obsolete overnight. There had been a couple of meet-ups and real-life friendships formed, but most of the participants fell out of touch when Prodigy became defunct. Decades later, some found each other again via social media, and while RBB wasn’t resurrected, it was at least remembered fondly.

I’m pretty sure this is the first time this obscure chapter of Star Trek fandom history has been told outside the small group who were there. RBB wasn’t exactly a major milestone in Trek history – it wasn’t big, it didn’t change anything, and it wasn’t even known beyond its small circle of a few dozen participants – but I think it’s still worth celebrating. For possibly the first time, a group of Trekkies came together in an act of ebullient creativity to invent their own little world, concocted irreverently but lovingly from the ingredients of their fannish passion.

The following images include the introduction to the CLA$$ICS collection, a few random A$$ posts, and the map of RBB. Enjoy, and don’t forget to close the door when you leave – you don’t want the nanites getting out.

Ruk-roh! Picard finale speculation

Next week will be the season finale of Picard (!!!!!), set up by a twisty "Et In Arcadia Ego part 1," in which we meet Dr. Altan Inigo Soong, son of Data-daddy Dr. Noonian Soong. Brent Spiner is great as Data, but because Data is so gentle (as Picard rightly says), Spiner is even more fun to watch chewing the scenery as Lore or as a Soong (Arik Soong in Enterprise was fabulous).

Soong the younger reveals that there are higher-level, synthetic beings out there, watching us, and that the sub-space frequencies needed to contact them are encoded in the Admonition, the crazy-making ancient vision the Romulans have been passing on for millennia. Conveniently, Soong has already created the necessary beacon to summon these beings.

Meanwhile, we also learn that Soong has been working on a “golem” that requires mind-transfer technology. Now, where have we seen this before?

In the TOS episode “What Are Little Girls Made Of,” Christine Chapel's ex, Roger Korby, has found an ancient android, Ruk, tending machines that can make androids -- and can transfer people's minds into them. Ruk (you remember Ruk -- he's Lurch!) is the survivor of an ancient battle with the “Old Ones, the ones who made us.” But is Ruk the only survivor? Or have his people been out there, waiting and watching, maybe as self-appointed defenders of all future synthetics, knowing that eventually organics will always turn on them, as the Old Ones did? Has Soong been working with information about these beings all along? Is that how he’s making the golem, as Korby once did, and how he conveniently creates a beacon so quickly?

Meanwhile, there’s the question of Discovery and Control, and whether Picard ties in with that story, as I and many others have speculated. Is this an alternative to that theory, or could both be true? Might Control have reached back in time to manipulate Ruk's people into serving its purposes? Or might a message from the Red Angel somehow have called on past synthetics to come to the aid of organic life? The message in the Admonition is ambiguous:

"Life begins, the dance of division and replication. Imperfect, finite. Organic life evolves, yearns for perfection. That yearning leads to synthetic life, but organics perceive this perfection as a threat, when they realize their creations do not age, or become sick or die. They will seek to destroy them and in so doing, destroy themselves. Beyond the boundaries of time and space, we stand, an alliance of synthetic life, watching you, waiting for your signal. Contact us and we will come. You will have our protection. Your evolution will be their extinction."

Who will seek to destroy whom? Who will have their protection? Whose evolution will be whose extinction? (Putting on my copy editor hat for a moment: Kids, this is why pronouns need clear antecedents!)

Maybe -- and this would fit the theme of Picard, that fear of the Other is the root of all evil -- there will be a spiritual evolution, which will cause the extinction of a false distinction between different kinds of life? Tune in next time...

I love that Picard is leaning into the theme of another of my favorite TOS episodes, “Errand of Mercy,” in which fear of the Other drives each side to believe in the absolute rightness of its own cause,  inevitably leading both sides down the path of violence and hatred. In Picard, that's exactly what happens to the Romulans, the Federation, and now, the synths. I doubt it's a coincidence that the Federation-Klingon conflict in "Errand of Mercy" only ends with the intervention of superior beings, the Organians, and now, in Picard, we're getting some outsider superior beings, too.

One of the things I hated most about TNG (especially in its early seasons) was the idea that somehow, humanity achieves a level of perfection that makes it immune to such basic failings as prejudice and tribalism. That didn’t feel believable or true, so it felt like the show was pushing Utopian Kool-Aid; I mistrusted its rose-colored vision. By contrast, in TOS, there was a sense that we can make huge strides forward, but goodness will still be a struggle, and no matter how far we come, there will always be more to go. I love that Picard is restoring that sense. It seems so much more honest, and in a way, more hopeful, because it speaks to the possibility of improving ourselves despite our weaknesses.

A unified Discovery-Picard theory

At this point (post Picard episode 7, "Nepenthe"), I find the theory in this article (click and read; I’ll wait) to be pretty convincing: Discovery and Picard are part of a unified canon dealing with Control, a malevolent AI that evolves from a Section 31 system. Now that we’ve seen the vision Commodore Oh shares with Jurati in a mind-meld, which resembles Spock’s apocalyptic visions, that’s not very farfetched. But I think the theory as presented in this piece might be wrong about at least one thing.

In considering how the Romulans of the past might have developed the mythology of a future AI apocalypse, the author theorizes that it has something to do with the supernova that destroys the Romulan homeworld and, in the first Abrams movie, throws Spock and Nero into the past. But if we're looking to explain information being transmitted through time, why look any further than the method established in Discovery: the Red Angel? We know that Michael Burnham acts as the Red Angel, jumping through time to guide Discovery and make sure events develop in a way that will ultimately defeat Control.

In Discovery, Control is after data from an ancient sphere that is now stored in the ship's computer -- data Control will somehow use to become fully sentient, or all-powerful, or something. At the end of S2, Discovery jumps into the distant future in order to keep that data from Control. But there’s a gaping logic hole in that resolution that's been bothering me ever since S2 ended: Control is immortal and doesn’t care how much time passes. (I keep thinking of Marvin waiting a billion years at the Restaurant at the End of the Universe). Control will eventually catch up to Discovery and go after the sphere data again. How does jumping to the future solve the problem? All they’ve really done is buy some time.

But for what?

My theory is that Picard is beginning to answer that question. Maybe the Red Angel spreads a vision through time of a future synthpocalypse in the hope that, with multiple civilizations working on the problem over millennia, a solution might evolve organically, a way of defeating Control that Discovery’s crew couldn’t hope to devise and achieve in the limited time available to them. The universe is a quantum computer, and the Red Angel feeds it a problem that it works on in the background for millennia.

How better to defeat an AI than with another AI? Maybe there’s something about the work AI developers have been doing for centuries – something in the work of the Daystroms, Soongs, and Maddoxes, which they may not even have been consciously aware of – that addresses the problem of Control. Maybe the impulse to create an AI with empathy for sentient organic life, an AI that actually emulates sentient organic life, is sentient organic life's inevitable response to the threat of an AI bent on its total annihilation. That kind of AI would serve as our defender. What if Ramdha’s reaction to Soji, calling her the Destroyer, isn’t referring to the destruction of the Romulans, but to the destruction of Control? If Control created the Borg (which Discovery hints at with the subtlety of a falling anvil), that might very well be what Ramdha, an ex-Borg, means.

So that’s my theory of the day: Soji is the anti-Control, or at least, a step toward the development of one. With my track record, though, I wouldn’t bet the farm on it.

Kestra: Not Like Other Girls

Brainstorming episode 7 in the Picard writers’ room:

Writer 1: So we need to make Riker and Troi really happy despite their past tragedy. Maybe they live in a fabulous penthouse?

Writer 2: A mansion!

Writer 3: A luxurious cabin in the woods!

1&2: YES!

2: And they have a beautiful daughter!

1: But not too beautiful. That would be sexist. We’ll put her in bangs. And she has to be tough. Not like other girls.

2: But how do we make sure people know how tough she is?

1: Football? Ice hockey? Sumo wrestling?

3: Bow hunting!

1&2: Brilliant!

2: But what does she hunt?

1: Slimy lizard things? Giant flying bugs? Nasty electric eels?
3: Nah. Girls are supposed to hate lizards and bugs and eels. But it should be dangerous, so people know how tough she is.

1: Something with venom sacs?

3: Perfect. But it should be...cute. Something other girls would like.

1: Oh, I getcha. Puppies? Kittens?
2: Bunnies? Unicorns?
3: BUNNICORNS!

1&2: GENIUS!

Instant reactions: Nepenthe

As always, SPOILERS!

1. I accept and respect that TNG fans need and deserve a nostalgic episode where their favorite characters get to spend some quality time together. (For me, Riker is warmer and more endearing than I used to find him, and Troi is even less. But these have always been some of my least favorite ST characters, so.) But this season is chugging to a close a mere three episodes from now, and there's a lot of plot to wind up, so I can't help resenting this long detour away from the main story. Also, it doesn't really do Picard any favors that his first thought when on the run from the most dangerous secret police in the galaxy is to hide out at the quiet, bucolic home of his dear friends and their sweet kid. Yeah, Picard's arrogance is a thing in this series, but I don't think the writers were entirely conscious that this choice would make Picard look so much worse.

2. HUUUUUGH!!! Honestly, I enjoy a heart-wrenching character death as much as the next person, but really, this was a waste. If it had happened in Picard's presence, so that we could experience his reaction and see the effect on him, that would have been something. But with Elnor? They only just met. Worse, there's this weird vibe that we're supposed to feel like Hugh and Elnor became deeply bonded in, like, ten minutes, so we're meant to think Elnor was profoundly traumatized by this. But...nope. I got nothing, except for the sense that I really wanted to see more Hugh, and now I won't.

3. So Agnes -- not a synth (that's me wrong, yet again), but shown a synthpocalypse by Oh that freaked her out enough to just swallow a tracking thingy. Not that I can really blame her. A mind-meld apocalypse must feel like -- well, an apocalypse. But what is that vision? Is it a real future? Did some time traveler give the Zhat Vash future intel, which the ZV have dedicated themselves to preventing, like ENT's Sphere Builders did to the Xindi? Or is it a mythical future, some kind of prophecy? Narissa refers to ZV operatives all across the galaxy, so presumably, that includes Oh. Anyhow, I'm glad Agnes redeemed herself, even if she had to put herself in a coma to do it. OK, maybe "redeemed herself" is a little strong, given the whole killing Maddox thing. But then again, we don't know that Maddox wasn't going to cause a synthpocalypse, so maybe Agnes did the right thing? But is it ever right to kill someone to prevent a future event that might not happen? Paging Chidi Anagonye.

4. Did Rios really suspect Raffi, or did he suspect Agnes, and he was trying to get her to confess to being the one with the tracking device? I prefer to think the latter, but it's probably the former. Poor Raffi can't catch a break -- everyone is shitty to her. Also, if you suspect someone on your ship is being tracked by someone who's trying to destroy you, wouldn't you try to do something more effective than have a chat about it?

5. The best part of this episode: Soji. Her reactions and feelings seem authentic and really touch me. So it turns out Maddox probably did make her, and others, on the planet with two red moons. (In my previous speculation, I'd dismissed the idea that Maddox actually made Soji and Dahj because I neglected to consider that he'd been missing for a long time, and he would have had ample opportunity to continue his work after leaving the Daystrom Institute. Still, it's pretty crazy to think he made a lot of them. Why? Did he have an ulterior motive, or was it just because he could? Was he the one who gave them the false memories and let them think they were human? Isn't that unethical? Paging Chidi again.) So Soji is in a sense Data's "daughter." But was Dahj so strongly imprinted on Picard that she sought him out without even knowing him, while Soji remains suspicious? Is it just because Soji is more traumatized?

6. I'm starting to get the feeling that the Borg/synth connection isn't going to be some clever plot twist, but just a loose thematic parallel, more's the pity. Still, there must be a reason why the Borg can't successfully assimilate Romulans, and it must have something to do with why Ramdha called Soji the Destroyer. Mustn't it?

7. Can we pleeeaaaaase get Rios' backstory now?

The mystery at the heart of Picard

More than halfway through. Six episodes down, four to go. So many questions.

Who are Dahj and Soji? Who created them? Where? Why? Who killed Dahj, and why? Why didn't Dahj and Soji know what they were? What's up with Soji's dream? What was going on when she called her mother? What are Narek and Narissa after? Are they Zhat Vash? What do the Zhat Vash want? What does Commodore Oh want? What did Oh say to Agnes? What activated the Mars synths? Why does Rios make holograms that look like him? Why did assimilating Romulans break the Borg? Why are Romulan ex-Bs so screwed up? What does Picard's Data dream mean? Why did Agnes kill Maddox? Just how corrupt is the Federation?

I've tooled around the Internet a fair bit reading people's theories, and I've lain awake nights trying to come up with my own. None of them put all, or even most, of the pieces together, but they generally seem to run along one or more of these lines:

• Maddox made Dahj and Soji to uncover a Federation conspiracy (or Maddox made Dahj and Soji to destroy the Romulans).
• Agnes made Dahj and Soji, and just let Maddox think he made them.
• Lore made Dahj and Soji for his own nefarious purposes.
• Soji is being fed new programming via phone calls with her "mother."
• The Romulans created the Borg and have been trying to destroy them ever since, and that's what the Zhat Vash are for.
• A faction of the Federation, determined to destroy the Romulans, created synths to infiltrate them and engineered the Mars attack to undermine the evacuation effort.
• The Romulans are synths created by the Vulcans ages ago as slave labor, and they rebelled, like the Cylons. (Yes. This is a theory on the interwebs.)
• Oh told Agnes something so horrible that she had no choice but to kill Maddox. Or Oh mind-melded with Agnes and implanted memories and/or instructions. Or Agnes is a synth and Oh activated her.
• Picard knows Agnes isn't what she seems. He's playing her.
• Narek has his own secret agenda, separate from his sister's.
• Soji is the next Borg queen.

Etc etc etc. It's all over the map, really. If there is one convincing unified theory, I'd love to hear it, but I haven't yet.

But there are a few basic pieces of information that everyone seems to ignore, but seem to me to be key:

The Data factor. Dahj seeks out Picard because he represents safety to her. Clearly, that has to do with Data, whose own programming has somehow affected her. Maybe that could be explained by the presence of B4 at the Daystrom Institute; through it, some part of Data's programming got transferred to the sisters. And while their association with Data implies that Dahj and Soji are on the side of the angels, it's possible someone interfered with their original purpose and they no longer are. Or maybe this is actually all about Picard, and Dahj and Soji are just bait for a trap set by someone who knows Picard can't  possibly resist helping Data's "daughers." But then there's the whole matter of Picard's dream poker game, and Data's hand of five queens. Data is central to this mystery, and no theory that doesn't include him is sufficient.

The Narek factor. We now know specifically what information Narek and Narissa want from Soji: her planet of origin. And we know why: because there are a whole lot more synths there. If so, could Maddox have possibly made them all? Seems unlikely. Is she from a planet full of future Borg queens? Possibly. No matter who these synths on the mystery planet are, it sure looks like, whatever was going on at the Daystrom Institute, it wasn't Maddox just making a couple of Data knockoffs. I lean toward the idea that Agnes is a synth from that planet, who may not have known her own nature before Oh activated her, but who was programmed to...alter Dahj and Soji? Fix them? Stop them? I don't know. But one thing is certain: If Soji and Dahj are from a planet with two red moons, they're not from the Daystrom Institute. They may have been brought there to be repaired or upgraded with Data's parts (or his shittier cousin's, B4), but they didn't start life there.

The Borg-are-victims factor. Picard's realization that the Borg are victims feels like a big clue, not just to his character arc, but to the big picture. It telegraphs the idea that we have to see people and their actions in context in order to understand them, and that there is often more to the story than meets the eye. It seems highly likely that at the heart of the season's mystery lies the secret of the Borg -- more specifically, who the power behind them is, who's pulling their strings, who victimized them -- and that the answer lies in ancient Romulan history.

I hope the final explanation actually manages to pull all these threads together -- but these are an awful lot of threads, and there aren't many episodes left this season. I really hope it's better than the resolution to Disco's first season.