summer-camp-4-enhanced

Summer Camp

chapter four:  Sights and Kachina Dolls

Sonny is still raw from the shave yesterday so he skips it today.

When I meet with my mentor, Mister Caswell, he takes me to the office.  I figure that my asinine behavior of the day before is the cause.  One day in camp and I am already being thrown out.  This is not high school where I keep my head down and stay out of trouble.

Fubar: (pointing to the pacifist) “He turned himself in.  He says that he punched you in the stomach.  So we have no choice but to drop him as an instructor and kick him out of camp.”

The pacifist was the only teen-aged instructor at Camp Shockenawe.  The rest were adults.  It is a point of honor.  Us adolescents versus them evil adults.

“You fire him over my dead body.” I respond.

“Bantling, you’ll have to do better than that.  Give me solid reasons why I shouldn’t drop him from the staff and throw him out of camp.”

The pacifist is suppressing a smile.  He is well aware that I could ruin his life but he seems philosophical about the matter.  I have never had Zen training but I figure that this is some sort of test and I won’t let these people get the better of me.  If my overprotective sister learns of this, she will kill the guy.  My mother might do something crazy or she might sue the boy’s parents or, worst of all, yank me out of summer camp and I will not have this experience taken away from me.

“Yes sir, Mister Fubar.  You should be punishing me not him.  I deliberately provoked him by calling him a coward in front of the whole class.  If he was angry, then he had a right to be.  If he was not angry, then he was trying to teach me a lesson which I learned.  We are now friends.  He offered to give me some pointers on martial arts.  If I had been permanently injured or killed, I could understand these proceedings but no harm done.  I would have reported him if I had thought it proper.  Not only do I refuse to cooperate in his removal but I will sign any waiver or release to exculpate him.  Please do not pursue this course of action or I will have to organize the kids in camp to protest–”

My mentor, Mister Caswell, touched my arm and whispered in my ear: “Don’t overplay your hand Phil.”

I was about to threaten legal action and raise money for a legal defense fund if a protest didn’t work before my mentor cautioned me.

“I retract the remark about demonstrations.  I apologize to my friend for insulting him and I will gladly repeat that apology in front of the whole class if he asks.  My statement ends with my offer to sign any forms you need signed.  Since I am a minor, my uncle, who is my legal guardian, can back me up.”  I hook my thumb over my shoulder to indicate my uncle.  I could smell his aftershave so I knew he had quietly entered the room.

It was Derek’s turn to suppress a smile.

The adults dissected my speech in front of me.  For a reason.  Normally, the child is dismissed from the room while the adults talk about them.

“Fairly well-reasoned logic.”

“Good conflict resolution.”

“Exhibits an understanding of the legal issues.”

“Bad start with that over my dead body remark but good recovery with polite manners and courtesy.”

“I disagree.  It shows backbone to start out ready to fight for another, even more so for someone he might not like.”

“He’s planning a military career.  He might someday have to cross a minefield to save the life of someone he personally hates but is in his unit.”

They all turn and look at me.

“How do you grade yourself Bantling?”

I was right.  This is some sort of Zen thing.

“F minus.”  I instantly reply.  I don’t need to think about that one.

“So modest.” says Mister Caswell.

“We really would have tossed him out on your say.” says Mister Fubar.

“I realize that sir.  It would have been irresponsible of me to let that happen.”  I reply.

My mentor releases me to go to my next activity which is conflict resolution.  An activity that I am dreading.

I came within a hairsbreadth of saying that I would lie to protect the pacifist.  That would have called into question my ethics and moral philosophy.  Lie like a gentleman?  What values or lack of values did I have?  The adults were pushovers.  If they only knew the truth.  I deserved a grade lower than F minus.

Mr. Fubar pulled Mr. Caswell aside.

Fubar: “I’m told that his uncle and mother are preparing him for a military career.  The kid has enough sense to know that it’s more than guns and high technology.  So he got his schedule changed.”

Caswell: “He needs to understand organization.  His one weakness is cross-cultural training.”

Fubar: “What is he?  A racist or something?”

Caswell: “No.  I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

Fubar: “Well figure it out.  It could save his life someday.”  He leaves.

Caswell to himself: “Might save all our lives.”

The aloof and brooding Dolly Wiener is in the First American Culture program for several two-day trips to reservations.  Cameron gets a one-day opening when one camper cannot go one day.  She takes some polished stones that a rock hound (amateur geologist) gave her.

She is initiated into the turtle clan for the women and gives them a present of the stones.

 A sand painting is done for Cameron only.  They don’t do it for anyone else.  With me for a brother, she needs healing.

 Dolly and Cameron witness a rain dance for the crops.  The dancers wear elaborate masks.  The Barbie doll-like Dolly meets her match: a kachina doll.

 When they return, Cam gives her kachina to me since I didn’t get to go and tells me about everything except the turtle clan and the sand painting.

“The turtle clan is for women.  I’ll only discuss it with mom.  I won’t talk about the sand painting because it will hurt your feelings.”

“What did the shaman tell you?  That I was a monster or an A-hole?  The whole camp knows that already.”

“I can’t discuss it.”

She pats me on the hand and walks off.  Obviously Indians are bad people.  Either that or I am jealous that Cameron got to go and I didn’t.  Lacking the ability to self-analyze, I decide that Indians are bad.

Missy Lamb is “my project” in Motivation.  If she fails, then I fail.  Since the office is near the infirmary, I stop and ask for advice since the public service announcements always talk about “before starting any exercise or weight loss program, consult a doctor.”  They tell me to find out her doctor’s orders, if any, and make sure she takes her medication, if any.

On my way out, I hear a high pitched voice so I stick my nose where it doesn’t belong and stick my head through a curtain.  It’s Bud on the rack.  I walk in and sit down.

“Bud, I haven’t seen you around.”

“Growing pains Phil.”

The nurse returns, stabs Bud with a hypodermic, disposes of the needle, and then begins adjusting the medieval torture device.

“Can I help?”  I plead.  Other than Cameron, I have never tortured anyone else.

“Sure.” She points: “That one, half a turn clockwise.”

Bud: “You’re supposed to have a gleeful look on your face.  A hunchback like Igor is also recommended.  Don’t you know anything about torture?”

“I know that the US government subcontracts its torture out to Camp Shockenawe.”  To the nurse: “How come he’s not screaming like a baby?”

The nurse rolls her eyes at my puerile humor and leaves.  I sit back down.

“So why are you being tortured?  And does the complete kit come with a cattle prod, blow torch, sulfuric acid, and rusty scalpel?”

“Traction and growth hormone.”

“Are you in here all day long?”

“Just half an hour session, once a day.  I keep a full schedule in camp like everybody else.  Next week I’ll be sleeping overnight in traction and won’t have to bother with this during the day.”

Bud is the shortest one in his family.  The runt of the litter.  His sister Babe looks way younger than the fifteen she is.  As Babe’s underage younger brother, underdeveloped Bud is a year younger than the rest of us at fourteen (going on fifteen) though he looks even younger.  Words like kindergarten, preschool and nursery come to mind.

Fortunately, Missy has no heart problems or diabetes (which is amazing) or kidney problems or other serious health issues but her doctor has ordered her to lose weight or risk all of that and more.  She is not on any medication (which is also amazing) but if she ignores her doctor’s advice she’ll be on the needle and on dialysis and a drawer full of pills.  I am no fool.  I tell Missy to write down a list of things I must not say and things I should say.  Again, it is amazing but words like fat don’t faze her.  She warns me not to use euphemisms or risk punishment unknown.  So I can’t say “weight-challenged” or some such politically correct verbiage.

 In between my other activities, I observe her in gymnastics, aerobics, and yoga.  She is embarrassing herself in gymnastics amongst all those skinny girls but she refuses to admit defeat.  Courage comes in all forms I guess.  In aerobics, there are girls more obese than her and she seems able to keep up with the instructor.  In yoga, it is humiliating for me to watch but I guess that’s my problem not hers.  She is far more flexible than I would have guessed.  After a while, I figure that she is doing okay in yoga.  Where I can make a difference is spotting her in gymnastics, provided that she does not fall on me and kill me.

I go back to my activities and on my next break between them, I find out who her bunkmates are:  Cameron, May Green, Dolly Weiner, Babe Farrow, and another girl.  A successful weight loss program, according to a book in the camp library, includes adequate sleep.  She is already exercising and the other girls tell me that she is on a zero-carb diet.  So I enlist them in the effort to make sure that she goes to sleep first in her bunkhouse and doesn’t sneak snacks.

May: “I’ll conk her over the head at taps.”

Me: “I don’t think brain damage is part of a smart weight loss program.”

May: “I was joking Phil.”

Me: “So was I.”

May always looks so fresh despite running and climbing all the time.  She is in the less advanced mountaineering program.  Maybe that’s why she never breaks a sweat.  Her doe eyes look dewy like a young Jessica Alba or fashion model.

Me: “May, do me a favor and take Missy with you on your morning runs.”

May: “She’ll slow me down and get me off pace.”

Me: “If I get her conditioned and up to your speed, will you reconsider?”

May: “If you do me a favor.”

Me: “Sure.  Anything.”

May: “Get your uncle off my back.  He’s always asking me to spy on you.  Asking what you’re doing.  Like I’m supposed to know.”

Me: “I’ll talk to him.  And you tell him that we’re friends and that he’s putting you in an awkward position.  And if that doesn’t work just say no.  But then he might find a spy I don’t know about.  I’d be better off turning you into a double agent for me, feeding him misleading disinformation.”

I have made a muddle of this.  May is tender and I am too rough.  I just want an excuse to spend time with May.  I’m in love with her.  At some point this summer, I will have to tell her.

May: “What sort of disinformation?”

Me: “I don’t know.  Telling him that I was planning on blowing up the camp wouldn’t work.  He’d know that I had found him out and was jerking him around.  It would have to be something believable.  Something sneaky.”

May: “Devious is not my strong suit.  Why don’t you ask your sister?”

Me: “Oh please.  My uncle can make her jump just by looking at her.  She knows devious but not the kind that could fool him.  Let’s see.  My uncle expects me to do something completely halfcocked.  And I have established a reputation in the camp as an A-hole.”

May: “Well deserved I’m sure.”

That hurt.  May laughed.

May: “Always so serious.  Even about a practical joke.”

Me: “That’s why they call them practical.”

May: “As a trustee, I should warn you that starting a food fight will get you kicked out and you can’t talk your way out of it.  We have people here from famine-stricken countries whose families are literally starving to death.  It would be in bad taste.  No pun intended.  A food fight would cause an international incident.”

Me: “So you’re telling me to start a food fight?”

May: “I’m telling you not to.”

Me: “Then why did you bring it up and spend so much time talking about it?”

May was silent.

I think for a few seconds.

Me: “First of all, I’m not a jerk.  Back at my high school, I blend in like wallpaper.  I’m the quietest student there.”

May: “I know that.  You’re like Babe.  Using summer camp to breathe some air before going back to a stuffy routine.  She’s really shy too.”

Me: “So I take advantage of my bad reputation at camp.  The only person I confide in is my sister.  I will tell her that something will happen at dinner in two days.  I won’t tell her what it is.  At the appointed time, she will look nervous because she will have figured out that a food fight is supposed to happen.  My uncle will have a heart attack.  And then I will cue the foreign exchange students to point at my uncle and laugh their heads off at the nonevent, when nothing happens.  Because you told me not to start a food fight and I don’t start a food fight, Mister Fubar can’t kick me out for something that didn’t happen.  And I’ll never tell on you because it’s teens versus adults, because I’m not a tattletale, because you’re a trustee, and because I love you May Green.  Not a bad plan, eh?”

May: “I like it.  Good plan.  What did you say?”

Me: “I’m late.  Gotta go.”

Did she hear me?  I’ll find out soon enough.

I am with Missy.  Her curly whitish yellow hair looks even whiter in the bright sun.  There is a program at Camp Shockenawe for cheer leading and glee club.  Cheerleaders are easy to identify even in regular clothes because they are buxom girls who are always blithe, sparkling, laughing, carefree, pert, chipper, sprightly, perky, and exuberant.  You can even smell the Zest soap on them.

I goad Missy into standing behind the cheerleaders and mocking them.  We skinny people laugh at the expense of fat people so why shouldn’t fat people have the opportunity to laugh at our expense?   I sit on the hill and watch.  As the cheerleaders go through their routines, Missy imitates them.  She is good.  Better than good.  She can do splits they can’t do.  She is a lot more flexible.  Soon they invite her over.  I realize what is happening and run down the hill.  They want her to be their mascot.

“Heck no.  You want to put her in some stupid costume and she might faint with heatstroke in this hot sun.”

“She doesn’t have to wear a costume.  Not in summer camp anyway.”

“You want to make fun of her.”

“Why would we want to make fun of our mascot?”

“You okay with this Missy?  It sounds pretty fishy to me.”  Their team mascot was the fighting fish.

“It’s good exercise.

I grumble.  Another one of my bright ideas gone bad.

Uncle Derek’s idea of an appropriate schedule for me is gun practice and learning about robots and artificial intelligence (AI).  My mother taught me about guns.  I can cut open my sister if I want to learn about robots.  As for AI, my sister is always hinting that I could be more humane.  To heck with that.  I didn’t ask for my life to be hijacked.  If I had any choice and if there was no Skynet or Judgment Day, then I would become a computer programmer, marry some nice girl, have kids, and lead a quiet life.  Since that choice has been taken from me, the human race has no right to expect mercy or kindness from me.  My job is to save human lives.  Don’t expect me to care about people’s feelings or souls.  Get a teddy bear or a priest if you want that.

Uncle Derek was obviously not much higher than a sergeant in Tech-Comm.  If I am to be a world leader and command generals and admirals, then I need leadership skills and emotional skills that Mom is not teaching me.  Uncle Derek might teach me if Mom didn’t bully him.  He did not command thousands but he did command a squad.  That’s five more people than I have ever commanded.

In the parcels of time left over from my schedule, I go over to robotics, grab a remote control and have two robots tear each other apart like gladiators in some bloody fight to the death.  Almost as much sadistic fun as watching Cameron get ripped up by a terminator as she protects me.  Cameron’s right: I really am a S.O.  ., the son of a world-class one.  I love mom but sometimes . . . .

I wonder if she set out to create the antichrist, the beast and the false prophet all rolled into one?  Me.  Do I watch as my mother lets the world burn or causes it to burn so that I rule in hell?  She talks about stopping Judgment Day but I think that is pro forma, just something to say.  She means it about as much as Christians mean it when they say that they are pro-life.  My mom, the satanic atheist, wants mega-death as much as Christians want mega-death.  Mom wants the world to burn to pay for what they did to her.  Christians want the world to burn because it is full of Christians who  want to go to heaven and full of wicked unbelievers who need to burn for their sin in this life and the next.  Mom doesn’t really want to stop Skynet because he is my John the Baptist preparing the way.  If none of this came to pass, then the son of Sarah Connor would end up flipping burgers in the same diner she works in because I am not college-bound and I have no marketable skills other than the ability to build terminators and artificial intelligence software like Skynet.  Perhaps I can get a job at Cyberdyne.  If you can’t beat’em, join’em.

Destruction.  That’s where the money is.  Or I could go into biotechnology and design a Cameron that doesn’t have a metal skeleton.  Make her all human.  Bad idea.  She might like that.

I am an illegitimate misbegotten miscreated base-born out of wedlock bar sinister b       without benefit of clergy.  That’s what my cover name, Bantling, means.  Typical Connor humor.  However, my mom calling Cameron “Tin Miss” in reference to the Tin Man in The Wizard of Oz strikes even a heartless bantling like me as cruel.

Having caused enough damage in the robotics workshop, I offer my services as design consultant and beta tester.  Before they can throw me out as the camp A-hole, I blurt out enough sensible advice that they stop shoving me toward the door and start listening.  Most robot Demolition Derbies have robot designs that Skynet would laugh at.  I tell them where to harden and where to focus on balance and even use bipedal tanks instead of tracked vehicles.  I get the benefit of the robotics program without having to spend more than a few minutes a day there.  Uncle Derek is happy.

I am inspired to go over to the AI workshop and let the participants model a Max Headroom-type program based on my personality (or lack thereof).  Mom would be horrified.  The AI could evolve into Skynet.  Skynet could be me.  This is better than getting drunk if the purpose of getting drunk is to give you an excuse for behavior you wouldn’t otherwise dare indulge.

Finally, I go over to the gun range, put on the earmuffs, put a bullet in the dead center of the bull’s-eye, and repeat the feat three times.  Then I start doing Annie Oakley trick shots like throwing a dime into the air and putting a neat hole in it.  Uncle Derek walks up, snatches the gun out of my hand, and whispers in my ear:

“Are you drinking?  I don’t smell any alcohol on your breath.”

“No sir.  I don’t drink.”

“Then go back to your leadership program and pay attention in Emotional Education.”

It is like having ice water thrown in my face.  I finally understand why Cameron, a terminator, respects and loves Uncle Derek.  I leave the gun range, go into the woods to be alone, and cry my eyes out.  By showing off, I hurt my uncle.

It is not enough to pass tests.  I can ace any test.  It is what you learn.  I go back to the AI workshop and ask them to erase my artificial intelligence.  I laugh when they say it crashed but worry about the way they disposed of it:

“We sent it off to some company.  Maybe they can do something with it.”

“What company?”

It’s not Cyberdyne.  Just some toy and games maker for children.  A subsidiary of Kaliba Group.  What a relief!

I don’t worry too much about the robotics workshop.  Nothing I suggest or design there will ever result in a horrible monster like Cameron.

Cameron gets to fill an opening in the biotechnology program.  On an activity bus, the group visits a biotech company that does tissue engineering and growth of human organs and bones.  Cameron tells me later about the tour but does not share her thoughts about biotechnology that is more than skin deep.

Junior comes into the gun range from wherever he has been, witnesses Phil’s skill with a gun and doesn’t understand what Phil was doing wrong since he doesn’t understand that Connors are supposed to live inconspicuous lives.  Junior comes from a fairly rich family that lives inconspicuously also but for reasons of socioeconomic class, tradition, and practicality.  Rich people get kidnapped for ransom.  Gun manufacturers are seen as merchants of death in some circles and attract bad publicity and lawsuits from the families of the victims of shootings.

Despite things in common, or perhaps because of them, Junior is the only one in camp who doesn’t think Phil is an A-hole.  Junior is a skinny weakling physically but he has forgotten more about guns than most experts will ever know.  Those were some really cool shots.  Especially splitting the playing card.  Edge on.

Phil goes to his mentor and asks him how to rehabilitate his bad reputation in camp.  Being John Connor is starting to look better and better by comparison.

While many (not all) white Americans are pointing out that Gates was arrested for exhibiting “loud and tumultuous behavior” and while many black Americans are calling Gates an Uncle Tom, there is a more important issue.  While others point out similar incidents with Latinos and while others point out the pitfalls of racial profiling, there is a more important issue.  While working class people say we should all be treated alike, they miss the point.  And skip (pardon the pun), the old joke about what do you call a black man in America with a PhD.

Then I flinched at the idea of a beer summit.  Appeals to Joe Six-pack I suppose.  But I had nightmares about a drunken cop waving a gun and going down in a hail of gunfire.  No wait, that was a movie on TV.  Life imitates art and art imitates life.

Disinvest in fission and invest in fusion.  Disinvest in oil and coal and invest in alternatives like geothermal, wind, solar, tidal, ocean wave, ocean current (like the Gulf Stream), and nanoantennas.  Like fission, coal and oil have no long term future.  So remove your capital while you still have capital to remove.  You heard it here first.

Don’t come back whining in a year that nobody warned you and you got wiped out.  Somebody is warning you right now.  Even the oil sheiks are investing in solar and electric vehicles and not just to undermine the technology.  A lot of inventors (I know some of them personally) complain  that they come up with energy alternatives that never make it to market because the big oil companies buy up the patents and then sit on them with absolutely no intention of developing them.  All that stuff on the commercials about “we’re looking into alternative energy sources” is public relations, in other words, lies.  They will declare bankruptcy before they will diversify out of oil.  The oil companies are about as committed to non-oil as General Motors is committed to electric vehicles — which is to say zero commitment.

Quite a few people look forward to the final liquidation (not reorganization) of both the old GM and the new GM because with that dinosaur out of the way, the new electric vehicle manufacturers will have more than a snowball’s chance in Hades.

I am a taxpayer and since (against my explicit statements in blogs) my government propped up the corrosively bad General Motors with my tax dollars, I am quite prepared to accept the loss on the “investment.”   Bush and his corrupt cronies have our military in Iraq wasting billions when we needed to pull out the same day that President Obama won the election.  We get no oil, the Kurds and Yazidis face genocide, Christians in Iraq are being forced out of their homes and many are leaving that country.  Because Bush could not tell the difference between Iraq and Iran, Iran will soon have nuclear weapons and Iraq never would have.  We turned friends, the Marsh Arabs, into enemies.  We let the blood bath Baath Party get off scot-free.  We ruined the good name of the USA with Abu Ghraib.  There is no upside to Iraq.  The USA got nothing out of a preemptive invasion of another country (granted Saddam was a dictator who used vats of acid and wood chippers to dispose of anyone he didn’t like) except the hatred of Muslims and Arabs.

Instead of taking the worldwide goodwill on the day after 9/11 and letting the police agencies of the world track down Al-Qaeda (there were candlelight vigils of sympathy for the United States in the  streets of Iran!), Bush turned it over to the military.  The US military consists of fine people to be sure but they have no business handling what was and is a police matter.  Why dignify Al-Qaeda by treating them like an army?  Treat them like the criminals they are.  How much money do you want to bet that this administration and the next two leave this in the hands of the military instead of getting the military out of it completely (completely is the key) and letting the police handle it?  I hope I’m wrong but even a president this smart won’t see it.

None of the villagers who have had long-term contact with Al-Qaeda like them any more than they like the Taliban.  They traffic in drugs, they kill innocent people who disagree with their methods, they destroy education for girls, and I could go on with fifty other items.  No one who sees Al-Qaeda or the Taliban up close (but isn’t a part of those organizations) likes them.  They are medieval thugs with emphasis on the evil.

A long way from talking about oil coal, and fission but it is all linked.

When you embrace bad energy technology and bad transportation technology, you get all that comes with it: pollution, terrorism, dictatorships based on monopolization of oil, destruction of your most cherished values, the death of  your children and parents in pointless wars far from home, global warming, rise  in sea levels, nations going under water, the destruction of forests, asthma, emphysema, bronchitis, cancer caused by pollution,  toxic waste dumps of  petrochemicals, loss  of species (including eventually Homo Sapiens), heart attacks caused by the decrease in the percentage of oxygen in the air, dirty bombs (fission plants are factories for M.U.F., material unaccounted for), loss of civil liberties & loss of the Bill of Rights lamely excused by the need to stop terrorism (which wouldn’t exist if we didn’t buy their darned oil), a garrison state and a police state which will happen when the first dirty bomb is exploded in the USA, ad nauseam.

Is it any wonder that cities, counties and states are moving ahead because the federal government is dragging its feet?  Is it any wonder that ordinary people are having their existing cars converted into electric vehicles because they are tired of waiting for Detroit to sell affordable electric vehicles?  I say with animus and anger: screw GM!  They went out of their arrogant way to recall and grind up all EV’s.  And certain executives in the US oil industry are flat out traitors and ought to face capital punishment.  Get the police to hunt them down like deer.  The Big Three automakers are more concerned with their bonuses (which they don’t deserve) than with the decline of America that they helped engineer.  The arrogance of arriving in Washington in corporate jets to beg for handouts.  Correction not beg.  Demand.  Rick Wagoner even had an attitude.

For you job seekers at a certain nuclear site, if you’re dead of cancer, a job that pollutes won’t do you a darn bit of good.  What good are you to your children if you are dead?  And that goes triple for coal miners.  Do you really think that they can invent a dust mask that will prevent black lung?  If you even bother to wear it?

Even if you don’t work in the petrochemical or coal industries, you can see the ugliness, see your grimy curtains, see the soot on your walls, and see the asphalt everywhere.  You can hear the gasoline and loud diesel engines everywhere.  You can smell it EVERYWHERE.

Most of us feel this way.  All I’ve done is articulate it.

Comments Please

I’m asking for advice and tips on how to get (more) comments.  Please give examples and your own experiences.

Thanks all!

 Toni

Stop the Violence

Deep in most people is a death wish.  Such people seek death.  They seek to die and they seek to watch others die.  Modern entertainments are blood-soaked in so much fantasy violence that a new term seems apropos:  carnography.  Carnography damages the adult mind in measurable ways as diverse as lowering moral & ethical standards, coarsening tastes, and desensitizing oneself to the pain of others that when the totalitarians are on the march, citizens are unable to summon the fortitude to stop them.  In other words, when good men do nothing, evil triumphs.

One assumes pornography damages young minds by cheapening their view of men and women, cheapening love, and making sex dirty.  Some studies suggest that pornography serves the purpose of a relief valve in our over sexed society allowing people to blow off steam as it were and lower the rape rate.  The same argument cannot be made for carnography.  If anything, it encourages mass murder and serial killing.  Criminals use carnography as textbooks to learn how to commit their crimes.  In particular, murder novels and cop shows instruct murderers on how to get away with murder.  Slasher movies inspire psychopaths and terrorists to commit ever more imaginative acts of cruelty.

If justice existed (and someday it might), then writers of murder novels and scripters of slasher movies would be locked up and the key thrown away.  If this sounds like censorship by Christians, then that it only partly correct.  Censorship yes but not by Christians.

Right-wing Christians are usually the first to advocate war and the bombing of people they have never met.   Conservative Christians place no value on any life other than embryos.  They were nowhere to be seen when Kevorkian was encouraging physicians to kill their elderly patients on the bogus argument that they cannot kill themselves and so need help.  Anyone sufficiently determined can kill themselves by refusing to eat or simply losing the will to live.  No modern medicine or forced feeding can override self-determination.  The truth is that families don’t want to pay the medical bills.

But the god (lower case ‘g’) of Conservative Christians evidently places a low value on human life and his followers follow suit.  “Killing is okay.  There is a life after life.  Therefore, it is okay to back every war that comes along and wrong to protest against war.”  Never mind those pesky little things like the Constitutional right to protest or the Old Testament commandment by Jehovah to not kill or Jesus’ stand against killing.  Never mind that from Genesis (Cain slew Abel) to Revelation (Heaven won’t accept murderers); the Bible that the Bible-pounders pound on condemns murder.  It would appear that the real God (as contrasted with the god of the Conservative Christians) sides with the Quakers and the Mennonites.  The rest of us are out of luck.

The Problem - Jay Leno and the other comedians can’t resist calling Trekkers and Trekkists “trekkies” and suggesting that all Trekkers live in their parents’ basement and are virgins.  This is actually truer of Star Wars fans but never mind that Trekkists have children, mortgages, and jobs.  I know of Trekkers who are corporate executives and celebrities.  This franchise will never get the respect of say Batman or Harry Potter until Trekkists get revenge.  Get a copy of the Loompanics catalog and buy some books on revenge.  Make the comedians pay for using you as the butt of their jokes.  They don’t pick on Babylon 5, Stargate, Battlestar Galactica, Doctor Who, Spiderman, Lord of the Rings, Elvis, or any other fandom but Star Trek.  Make them pay.

Snacking - Skip the popcorn.  While you are crunching you will miss a lot of dialogue and have to see the movie twice.   If you are cheap and don’t want to pay twice, stick to quiet snacks like chocolate-covered raisins.

Special Effects - sound effects great but I’ve seen much better visual effects

Aliens - Where are the Andorians (blue-skin, antennae, family-oriented)?  Where are the Tholians (hyper-punctual crystalline beings)?  On the plus side, Uhura’s academy roommate is a green animal woman (or girl in this case) which is a species we’ve seen in the original TV series as well as Scott Bakula’s “Enterprise”.  We’ve seen white Vulcans and we’ve seen black Vulcans in Voyager.  When are we going to see Oriental Vulcans?  Way overdue.  One species we need to see extinct is Romulans.  It was Romulans who sank the franchise in Star Trek X: Nemesis.  Why would JJ Abrams bring them back to sink it again?

Genre - I hate space cowboys.  I hate space opera.  I hate Saturday morning kid vid space cadets.  But I liked these space cadets.

Age - In the movie, teenagers are drafted out of the Academy and pressed into service before they are ready.  I’m guesstimating that all but five percent get killed as they come out of warp around a planet in their various newly built and newly destroyed starships.  In the next movie, are the demographics going to shift back to middle aged people in their forties and fifties?  The fleet that was somewhere else when a key Federation planet was being attacked will be back.  Or, will Abrams take the demographics even lower and put some preteens in Starfleet uniforms and aboard starships?  I hope so.  I hated the space cadets in The Wrath of Khan.  I hated the Wrath of Khan period and don’t mind insulting those who liked that installment.  But in Abrams’ hands, space cadets are a very welcome commodity.

The Model of Success - Yes, I know that JJ Abrams takes Wrath of Khan as his What-Would-Roddenberry-Do Bible.  Of all the Star Trek movies, TMP The Motion Picture still reigns as top moneymaker not Wrath of Khan.  I just checked the list of all time box office champs and no Star Wars installment is in the top three.  Titanic, The Dark Knight, and Shrek are the top three domestic gross.  The message is not to make Star Trek stupid like Star Wars.  Rather, make it big and inject some humor.  You say: “But Titanic was a one-shot not a franchise.”  I say Batman and Shrek are franchises.  Enough said.

Uniforms - It took them over thirty years to figure out that unisex scares off crowds.  And Abrams goes timid with miniskirts.  The original had microminis.  How much you want to bet that the skirts are either gone in the next movie or the hemlines drop to the floor?  In the real world in China, the minute Mao was dead; women in China started wearing dresses again.  In the real corporate world, female CEO’s wear skirts.  Pantsuits and jeans are for the women at the bottom of the corporate ladder.  That’s a fact.  Maggie Thatcher, the Iron Lady of Britain did not wear pants.  And a skirt will never sit in the captain’s chair of a starship for more than a second of screen time in the Star Trek universe.  I hope I am wrong.

Sets - Apparently they used oil refineries and petrochemical plants as sets.  The only set that I bought as real was the Starfleet Academy campus.  I took one glance and bought it instantly.  They probably used a real college campus.  Everything else looked phony.  The bridge of the Enterprise did have some touches that were a pleasant reminder of the USS Excelsior (the best looking ship in the Star Trek universe) from Star Trek III.  The engineering sections had grimy steel girders that you could run into by accident and get a concussion and exposed cement and concrete.  Cement and concrete aboard a space ship?  Whatever subcontractor is responsible for this mess should be sued and Paramount should get its money back.  If you want comfort, you better get assigned to the USS Excelsior or that luxury liner Picard had called Enterprise-D.  From what I saw the starships probably had rats and roaches.  This is supposed to be the future?

Industrial Light and Magic (ILM) - Years ago when Paramount first engaged them to do effects for the Star Trek franchise, I saw the handwriting on the wall which spelled doom for the franchise.  In case you don’t know, ILM is owned by Star Wars creator George Lucas.  ILM was never going to make Star Trek look better than Star Wars.  It is illogical that they would do so even being professionals.  Besides sub-par optical effects, Scotty had a sidekick that made me wonder if we can expect wall-to-wall Ewoks, E.T., and tribbles.  The trouble with tribbles is that they are funny for about one second before they start getting on your nerves.  Don’t piss off the audience.  You’re trying to get people into the theatre not scare them off on rumors of crap-a-thon.  After sitting through over-hyped and under-performing special effects for two hours, the end credits were the coup de disgrace.  Colored balls passing for various planets and moons over Alexander Courage’s original theme music.  Fire ILM!  Before they ram the franchise into the ground.  Kick them to the curb.  Hire Digital Domain (the originators of morphing techniques in The Abyss) and WETA (of Lord of the Rings fame).  Anybody but ILM.  Please.

Sexy Writing - Hire Joss Whedon and Eliza Dushku.  These are people who understand sexy.  Dollhouse, despite its dismal ratings, is proof.  Abrams might want to take a look at that overlooked TV series “Enterprise” starring Scott Bakula.  I seldom bothered to watch it because of my work schedule but when I did manage to find it (they must have moved its night and time around) I was pleasantly shocked by how steamy it got!  I heard one reviewer describe JJ Abrams’ Star Trek as the most adult Trek yet.  I can’t top that description.

The Producer - JJ Abrams is the first producer of Star Trek who seems to understand the concept of a multi-year story arc and answering unanswered questions.  His series Lost is proof of the arc and he promises to tie up everything in season seven.  With Star Trek One to Ten, Paramount could not decide on whether it wanted standalone movies or sequels.  People lie to pollsters and opinion researchers and tell them that they want stand-alones but it is interconnected sequels like Lord of the Rings and Pirates of the Caribbean that they line up to see.  I don’t think Paramount picked JJ Abrams by accident.  JJ Abrams is precisely the producer who could make good use of Trek canon if he bothered to sit down and watch all 78 episodes of the original series.  Make the next movie younger, even sexier, more character-driven, and much faster.

If the reboot is a flop - What producer will replace Abrams?  Number one pick would be James Cameron.  His box office speaks for itself.  Tied for second place are Christopher Nolan and Sam Raimi.  If we can’t get Cameron, then my favorite is Nolan who is probably too tied up with the Batman franchise to split his attention but it is worth knocking on his door.  We know Cameron can do optimism because he did The Abyss but can Dark Knight Nolan do Star Trek optimism?  It would be interesting to find out.  Sam Raimi knows how to appeal to all four quadrants: older males, older females, younger males, and younger females.  I can’t think of anyone else in show business with that credential.  Why not just stack the deck and hire all of the above as a dream team?

Parents - We get to see Kirk’s parents and Spock’s parents (Sarek and Amanda).  We even get to see Kirk and Spock as children.  The animated Star Trek showed Spock as a child and Star Trek 5 showed McCoy’s father but as an old man.  In this movie we get to see the parents mentioned when they were young.  Will we ever see the parents of Scotty, Sulu, Uhura and Chekov?  Chekov’s parents must be in their early thirties or even younger.  We’ve seen Iowa and we’ve seen Vulcan but we have never seen the homes and hometowns of Chekov, Uhura, and Scotty.  Sulu is supposed to be from San Francisco and we see that city in the movie though not Sulu’s home.  There is one parent that, regrettably, we will never see.

Inside Stuff - If you are into the Vulcan sub-fandom and the Kraith Quest, this movie will infuriate you unless you have achieved Kolinahr and that is my point.  There will be no more logic in the Star Trek universe.  From here on out, it is pure human irrationality.

Romance - You’d expect Kirk to hop from bed to bed if the original flavor of the original series is being brought back.  And, in fact, Kirk does hop into and out of bed.  But the surprise is a romance that I don’t see lasting because of plot lines, Starfleet regulations, the reality of Hollywood, the fickleness of Abrams (I’ve seen how he makes love triangles and quadrangles in Lost), and a host of other reasons including a word that I can’t use because it will spoil the surprise if you haven’t seen the movie yet.  And it is a shame because you emotionally invest in the two characters and wish somehow they could stay together and get married.  Sigh.

Resemblance - All of the new actors pass the general resemblance test to the original cast members but specific resemblance is another matter.  Walter Koenig had a fuller face than Yelchin and Cho is not as thin as George Takei was, and Saldana looks nothing like Nichelle Nichols.  Having said that, Cho earns his spot on the cast and I hope to see all seven (Cho, Pegg, Pine, Quinto, Saldana, Urban, and Yelchin) back in the next movie.

Acting - I liked them all.  I am afraid to say which cast member really impressed me for fear that Abrams might fire them and kill off their character.

Character Development - From the sneak peak previews and early part of the actual movie, it really looked like, oh groan, that JJ Abrams was going to piss off the two largest demographics in the fan base (thereby scuttling the franchise) and use a beloved character as a thing.  Sigh of relief.  Writers Orci and Kurtzman do the opposite, the unexpected, and it stops being offensive after one second when you think: “Heck, why not?”

Casting - Not enough females.  Let’s get the gender ratio up to fifty-fifty.  Where are the Native Americans, the Hispanics, and the Indians from India?  And don’t let Sulu be the only Asian.

Heterosexuality - Heterosexuality is rare in science fiction but the original TV series was an exception.  I hope we are not sentenced to a G-rated Star Trek forever.  I’d pay good money to see an R-rated (or even X-rated) Star Trek movie.  It’s unlikely to ever happen but one can hope and wish.  You can get violence on broadcast TV.  But kids sneak into movies to see something else.

Sexism - As a woman, D.C. Fontana was the feminine presence on the staff of the original Star Trek.  I see no prominent women on the staff of this reboot.  The other beef is that to sit in the captain’s chair a woman has to turn herself into a man and even wear men’s clothing.  They even called Saavik “Mister” not Mizz.  On Voyager, Captain Janeway would have none of that nonsense and I think it was the premiere or second episode that Janeway told a crew member to address her as “ma’am” and not “sir.”  My beef with Kate Mulgrew as the first regular female captain is did she have to be so masculine and deep-voiced?  Is there something so deep in Trek culture that a petite female (like Genevieve Bujold or Roxann Biggs-Dawson) or a skinny young female (like Zoë Saldana, the new Uhura) will never make captain — at least not while she’s wearing a skirt?  Unlike in real life where there are female CEO’s and governors and prime ministers.   Some of them even have supermodel good looks.  I have no problem with females in subordinate roles and supportive roles as either “love interests” or as wives.  But come on; give us a shot at the big chair.  And don’t assume that we are afraid of combat.  We have trigger fingers too.  In the New Avengers, Joanna Lumley as Purdey kicked ass while wearing a dress!  She didn’t have to stop being a woman to do her job.

Action - Granted, females don’t tend to engage in slugfests and fisticuffs but there are these inventions called martial arts, knives, and guns which tend to put men and women on an equal basis.  The men do the fighting in this movie.  I’m okay with women who don’t want to break a nail.  But I’m taking a derringer and a switchblade to a cat fight.

Civilians - Despite its supposed optimism, Star Trek is a military universe.  Civilians and taxpayers like you and me are just are extras and not really central to the story.

Body Count - Seven billion.  If Abrams’ strategy is raising the body count, it won’t work long term.  Sequels from Lethal Weapon through Diehard to Rambo can stack up more bodies to ever declining box office and increasing salary demands.

Regularity of Sequels - Bond movies kept an audience because at the end of each movie they would say “Bond will be back in” and then they inserted the title of the next sequel.  If Abrams has written a bible or story arc for a series of movies then he should film them back to back like with the Back to the Future trilogy.  If we have to wait longer than two years between movies, we’ll lose interest.

Violence - I’d like to see less violence and this movie doesn’t make you watch a captain being tortured.  As galactic cops, the Federation is supposed to prevent bad stuff.

Ideas - Original Star Trek, animated, Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, Voyager, and Enterprise all had in common a lot of ideas.  This movie has none.

Plot - Not original.  We have seen a Klingon homeworld destroyed.  In this movie, another homeworld is destroyed.

Missing Characters - Yeoman Janice Rand and Nurse Christine Chapel.

Guest Characters I’d like to See Again - That female thrall on Triskelion that Kirk promised to return for but never did.  Leila the scientist who loved Spock for most of her life.  Droxine the cultured woman from the Cloud City Stratos who was prepared to even work in a filthy mine to win Spock’s heart.

Future Plots - For reasons that will be obvious once you see the movie, Spock will be under intense pressure to marry a pureblooded Vulcan woman.  Vulcans are the same race that rejected him as a half-breed.

Star versus Ensemble - There are indications that this reboot will be an ensemble work rather than a star vehicle for Kirk.  The names are listed in alphabetical order.  Healthy for the franchise.

Comic Relief - This time around, this thankless task fell to Chekov and Scotty.   As long time fans know, Scotty got to do some serious drama on occasion.

Swashbuckling - Sulu all the way.

Babe Count - For guys, vital information:  Star Trek continues its policy of no more than two babes present.  Voyager had B’Elanna Torres and Seven of Nine.  “Enterprise” had the Vulcan chick and the Asian linguist.

Longevity - I’d bet that even if this movie is a flop, it will make enough money to encourage Paramount to do more movies and maybe even another TV series though don’t hold your breath for a TV series after “Enterprise.”

The USS Enterprise - This is not an alphabetical Enterprise A-Z so don’t expect any astounding technology.  Gee whiz factor is pretty low.  No new gadgets or technology.  The flip phones of today were inspired by Star Trek.

Where’s Q? - There was a Q in the original series named Trelane, the Squire of Gothos.  And Q showed up in Next Generation, Deep Space Nine and Voyager.

Techno babble - Water going into an intermix chamber?  Did Abrams even bother to do his homework?  For Scotty’s sake, I’m glad he materialized in something other than hot plasma if it couldn’t be thin air.

Popularization - I’ve heard over and over again that people are supposed to grit their teeth and let Abrams do his popularization thing of making Star Trek accessible to the dummies who flunked science, literature, and every other subject.  I just checked the all time box office champs and no Star Wars installment is in the top three.  Titanic, The Dark Knight, and Shrek are the top three domestic gross.  The message is not to make Star Trek stupid like Star Wars.  Rather, make it big and inject some humor.

Future Plots - If Abrams remakes the Wrath of Khan, I’ll wait for the DVD.  I won’t bother to see it at the theatre because I don’t care about Khan and his supermen anymore than I care about the Romulan from the future in this movie who can’t be bothered to check and see that his homeworld is alive and well.  I do care that the Kelvan Empire’s invasion force might come looking for Rojan and his colony and that Kirk would care since he knew Kelinda the Kelvan (played by Barbara Bouchet).  I care that races like the Metrons don’t want to join the Federation because they think we are too primitive.  I care that Federation engineers have a stick up their butts building clunky ships in Iowa when the race that built the Fesarius in “The Corbomite Maneuver” can build ships the size of large moons and that even their tiny shuttlecraft can slap powerful tractor beams on the Enterprise and drag it like a rag doll.  Incredible energy efficiency.  And this species of midgets can operate their huge ships with a minimum of crew (one or two people).  If they are a member of the Federation, then why does the Federation drive junk like the new Enterprise?  Get some shipbuilders who know what they are doing.  I also want to know why energy beings like the Organians choose to live in physical form with simple lives.  I want to know to what use the Federation will put the powers of illusion that races like the Melkots or Milkotians (Trek reference books vary the spelling) have.  Will the Federation use it for mind control like our government would do in 2009?  Or will they find a find a way to enhance freedom?  Will we have (supposedly) oversexed races like the Betazeds?  I never saw any indication that Troi was much of a nymphomaniac.  Will we have sexually mature races like the Deltans?  This is the stuff I care about, not stories about alpha males like Captain Nero who can’t read a map or a star chart or ask for directions back to his home world.

Summary - Reading the above, you must be thinking that this critic hated Star Trek.  No, I loved it.  My criticisms are easily addressed ways to tweak it and make it better.  Go see it.  Young people will love it and old people will love it.

The Guide to the Sarah Connor Chronicles at

 http://www.squidoo.com/The-Sarah-Connor-Chronicles

can be used to save the show.  Here is how.

First, think about how badly you want the show back in the modules (articles) titled: “The Chronicles of Sarah Connor” and “How soon do we want Cameron back?”

Second, feel a sense of excitement by reading the modules titled: “The Clock Doesn’t Stop” and “Why the Alarm?”  If you are up for it, then scare yourself silly by reading “Revival”.

Third, act on it.  Yes, you.  Take action suggested in the modules titled: “Just Do It!” and “Campaign”.

Keep a sense of humor.  Some of the things you read might not be your cup of tea so just act on what applies to you and let other fans act on what applies to them.  Generally though, organizing and acting as a group is better than acting alone — like crazy Sarah Connor.

Don’t wait to be asked: put the URL of the Guide in your emails, in your blog, in your postings on discussion forums, in your texting, in your Twitter, in your chat room, in your wiki, in your MySpace, in your Facebook, and in your Second Life.  Go viral with a YouTube video promoting the Guide.  When you see your friends face to face, write down the URL for them or if they have their notebook, iPhone, Blackberry or other device then take them to the Guide and make sure that they bookmark it.

If you have gone to a SCC fan club meeting, then you have probably already signed a petition, handwritten & postal mailed a letter to Fox (they’ll ignore email), and called them on the telephone.  You can then move on to the advanced stuff and the hair-raising stuff listed in “Extreme Measures for Saving the SCC”. 

Just remember that even in the extreme module, cautions are given as to the downside of things other than money and prayer.  In the real world money doesn’t talk, it screams!

In Loving Support of Petya (Pett) Corby
Founder of the Global Awareness Campaign
Author of “How to Avoid Unplanned Pregnancy Every Time You Have Sex WITHOUT Using Contraceptive Drugs”
http://www.you-choose-when.com and Virtual Gigs band http://www.myspace.com/virtualgigs

That’s it. That’s All.

Julia Roberts said she would “let” her children play with the Obama children.  Last time I checked, the Obama children were not pregnant out of wedlock or using drugs.  Out here in the heartland, we believe that our sons and daughters, nephews and nieces should get married first and then have children.  Nowadays, children are having children.  Twelve year fathers like the kid in England.  Celebrities seem to think that the moral code (what’s left of it) does not apply to them.  The whole point of rich and famous people in more enlightened times was to set a good example for others.

To the point, whether liberal or conservative, celebrities’ children are getting pregnant out of wedlock and they really are setting a bad example.  Many of us have heard the case of the high school  where a clique of girls got pregnant just for fun.  Bristol Palin is Governor Sarah Palin’s daughter who still has not married the young drug addict who got her pregnant.  Emma Roberts is another unwed pregnant teen and Julia’s niece.

I would not “let” my children play with celebrity children because, like any parent, I have to look out for my children no matter whose feelings get hurt.  I don’t care what color or what political party the parents of my children’s playmates are.  Those are irrelevant factors.  I DO care if my children’s playmates have parents who allow drug use or premarital sex or whose children have never had sex education, abstinence education, moral education (Sunday School or Temple School or the equivalent), anti-drug education, and temperance or responsible alcohol education (like Students Against Drunk Driving).  If my children hung out with tobacco smokers, I would probably pull them out of their current school and put them in a new school to make them find new friends.  I want my children healthy — not parents at age eleven.

I am sure that Julia Roberts did not mean to sound condescending to the President and First Lady when her own house is not in order but it sure sounds like a possible interpretation.