Sometimes I Wonder Which Poor Bastard From Geordi’s Engineering Staff Got His Skull Flayed To Give

This feels like a forgotten Federation track from one of the old Starfleet Command games.

EDIT: Damn, didn’t read the comment @velacity made. Eh, great minds think alike, and so such.

Guys?  My fellow Trekkies?  People?

Some of you know this already.  Some of you don’t.  But this song was almost the theme for Star Trek: The Next Generation.

No, I am not kidding.  I’m serious.  It really was.  They almost used this as the theme to TNG.  It’s even on the first soundtrack, the one with the music from the pilot “Encounter at Farpoint” if you don’t believe me.

Yes, this song was almost the TNG theme.

Seriously.

I mean it’s not horrible horrible, right?  But it’s… it’s not the TNG theme, you know? 

It really is very 1980s though.  I mean, you’d have to do 80s visuals with it, you know?  Not just text.  Picard would have to come on horseback galloping over the top of a hill.  Riker would have to do one of those half-turn-and-smile manuvers.  Troi would have shake her hair like a shampoo commercial.  Worf would have to do a toothy growl as he chopped wood with a bat'leth.  Beverly would have to be fixing Wesley’s uniform collar or something before turning to the camera.  Geordi would do the two-handed point-and-grin like Guy in the end opening credits from “Galaxy Quest” and Data would totally be painting a portrait of spot before spot knocked over the paints…

There's another Worm connection in No Man's Land with Poison Ivy. As the rest of Batman's rogues' gallery carve up Gotham, she ends staking out a derelict city park and caring for a bunch of kids who were orphaned or otherwise abandoned after the earthquake. Rather than rousting her out, Batman agrees to leave her alone for the time being, provided she uses her powers to generate produce for the rest of the surviving citizens to eat. While Ivy was less than pleased about having to go along with this, she still held up her end of the deal.

In his own discussion of Ivy's history on Twitter, Exalted_Speed has argued that No Man's Land is really where the interpretation of Ivy as an antihero (ahem) took root. The connection with Worm is obvious; however, Taylor's tenure as urban warlord feels like a more refined version of that concept. As noted in the thread, the attempts to turn Poison Ivy into an antihero often stumble on both the sheer amount of carnage she's caused over the years and on with her original characterization of "vicious plant-themed Catwoman" which is still a major element in her modern portrayals. By contrast, it's much easier to offer apologetics of Taylor's conduct on the Boardwalk, since she was explicitly written to fit the role that Pamela Isely was awkwardly retrofitted to play.

Got a Worm meta question for you. I'm starting on the early parts of Taylor's warlord era - I'm about to leap into Arc 13 - and the general concept of a ravaged American city being divided up by various supervillain groups is reminding me a lot of that Batman story arc No Man's Land from the late 1990s. Unfortunately my comics knowledge is rudimentary at best, and I haven't been able to any discussion comparing the two stories, so I was wondering if I could pick your brain on the subject. Was it just convergent evolution, or was Wildbow engaging with the Batman story in some way?

I myself have only read about half of No Man's Land- and several years ago to boot- so I've got limited ability to do a direct compare and contrast. No Man's Land is absolutely the sort of status-quo-shattering, history-book-making upset that, within Marvel and DC, nonetheless always inexplicably heals and loses salience until you can barely tell that it's still in continuity. Worm is heavily informed by Wildbow's irritation with that sort of thing, so I think it's totally reasonable to view the warlord era through the lens of "What if No Mans Land had no editorial escape hatch." Alternatively, I think it kind of makes sense to view it through the lens that it's working backwards from the premise of No Man's Land- In what kind of setting would it be plausible for the Federal Government to write off a sufficiently-damaged American City? In what context would the legal infrastructure have been established for that, in what context would that even fall within the Overton Window? What muddies my opinion on this is that the general concept of a ravaged, atmospherically-apocalyptic American city torn up by superpowered gang warfare is something that's kind of just been in the water in superhero comics since the mid-eighties at least, and it was a relatively common thing to see during the Dark Age- they were choice prey for all those overpouched musclemen with their poorly rendered firearms. I'd be surprised if Wildbow wasn't at least aware of No Man's Land, but it's definitely not the only cape book from the late 90s or early oughts where you could pick up that idea from. Ultimately this leaves me unsure if No Man's Land is the specific referent or if it's just part-and-parcel with trying to do an involved, thoughtful take on what cape comics were like at the time.

Very disappointing. That’s nowhere near enough shuttlecraft for Voyager. I demand at least 42 shuttlecraft crammed into that bay. Oceans of shuttlecraft. Shuttlecraft without end.

Star Trek Voyager Game Project

Oh, you just reminded me of my second-favorite Shakespeare adaptation: Rupert Goold's 2010 film adaptation of Macbeth, with Sir Patrick Stewart himself as Macbeth and Kate Fleetwood as Lady Macbeth. It's based on a production Goold put on in 2007 with Stewart, and it sets the play in a nebulously-modern setting with a "subterranean Soviet" aesthetic. It's not quite what anon was looking for, but it's in the ballpark. Oh, and in this adaptation the witches take the guise of WWI-era war nurses.

Having seen the 1995 version of Richard III, I am now convinced that there needs to be an adaptation set in the dying days of tsarist Russia, if only for the red-white symbolism. Just like, the ostentation, the moral ambiguity/amorality of literally everyone involved, the end-of-an-era vibe, except the era definitely needs to end. Also, Elizabeth Woodville in a kokoshnik? Elizabeth Woodville in a kokoshnik.

DUDE YOUR MIND

“Cats that look like Lenin” really should be a thing.

Котик революционер

And yes @dumnhpy​, that is indeed Charles Napier, who returned to Trek with the DS9 episode “Little Green Men” as Lt. Gen. Rex Denning.

What a difference twenty six (or negative twenty-two) years makes.

TOS costume design really said “men in thigh highs with tits out”

Speaking as someone who does a fair bit of reviewing and occasionally writes for an ezine filled with people steeped in academia, I often feel the same way. I'm always worrying that I'm not being "insightful" enough or that I don't know the correct language to properly discuss a particular theme. I find it helps to remind myself that, at the end of the day, I don't really want to be an academic or write in that environment (or have to force myself to learn that unfathomable prose), and that it's far better to work on something I enjoy doing rather than making myself miserable slaving away on something just to sate my insecurities or gain the approval of some imaginary person I don’t care about.

i feel dumb because i write fiction instead of theory or critical work

Mind you, Trek isn’t quite as bad as Star Wars in this regard. I can still type the name of, say, Jenna D’Sora or Susanna Leijtin into Memory Beta and discover that they’ve never appeared in any of the novels since their appearances on TNG.

star trek character who appears for 3 lines of dialogue: hello, my name is Blek’tho, i’m a Zeeyopian dishwasher repairman

star trek beta canon: Blek’tho, the secret prince who had newly become king of all zeeyop,

Daily Kuvira #46 - memes never end

When you can’t remember if you locked your giant killer robot.

Ha ha ha, this thing. I actually read The Angel of the Revolution about a decade ago when I was in my steampunk phase. What I mostly remember about Angel is its gleeful Russophobia. The Terrorists see the autocracy and cruelty of the Russian Empire as the greatest threat to the free peoples of the world, and when Tsar Alexander III (remember, written in 1893) acquires a fleet of airships in his quest to dominate Europe, he becomes the ultimate enemy the Terrorists have to defeat. There’s a lot in this book that’s objectionable to modern eyes, but the one that sticks with me is a bit near the middle where the Terrorists are flying over St. Petersburg and just decide to blast Kronstadt off the face of the Earth on a whim. My memory is hazy, but I think there’s also an extended sequence in a hidden mountain plateau in Ethiopia where the Terrorists have their main base, and we sort veer into some late 19th century-vintage mysticism. There’s also a sequel, Olga Romanoff from 1894, which can also be read at Project Gutenberg over here. This one picks up in the year 2030, in a world that has been peacefully unified for generations under the patient stewardship of the Terrorists, who now call themselves “Aerians”, and their airships. However, the pax aeronautica is broken by the titular Olga Romanoff, descendant of the defeated Alexander III and a diabolical mesmerist, who aims to avenge Tsarist Russia’s defeat by allying with the forces of Islam and challenging the Aerians for control of the planet. Then in the end the Earth passes through a comet’s tail and everyone is killed by poison gas, but a few Aerians survive in underground shelters to reemerge and repopulate the world. So, yeah. To put it as nicely as possible, The Angel of the Revolution and Olga Romanoff are products of the culture and era that made them, and they do not transcend that culture and era. They’re not the sort of thing you’d read if you don’t have a scholarly interest in that particular form of British sf known as “scientific romances”. Perhaps the most interesting thing about them to a modern reader is that they put some of H.G. Wells’s own stories into context. Wells’s own The War in the Air (1908) in particular feels very much like a response to Griffith’s novels. (And wouldn’t you know it, The War in the Air is also available on Project Gutenberg right here!). While Wells’s novel has its own prejudices and blind spots as well, it undercuts the power fantasy of Griffith’s novels by showing both the horror of saturation bombing along with its inability to be decisive on its own, and the war just drags on until all industrial civilization is destroyed and humanity is driven back to subsistence farming.

I started reading a book called “The Angel of the Revolution” (free on Project Gutenberg), and it is so bad in the most fascinating way

It was written in 1893 by this guy named George Griffith, who was a lot like H. G. Wells, writing near-future science fiction that combined technological speculation, adventure, and a socialist message.  But Griffith is, more, uh … look, just let me summarize.

We’re ten years in the future – it’s 1903.  The central character is a nerdy 26-year-old dreamer who’s devoted his entire life to building a heavier-than-air flying machine.  His prospects are drying up, everyone’s making fun of him, but at last he succeeds in building a little scale-model airship that flies (he’s discovered a chemical reaction allowing for very light fuel).

By chance, he runs into an agent of a massively powerful worldwide conspiracy called “the Terrorists.”  They seem to be left-wing anarchists of some sort, and are said to have been behind the real-life Russian nihilist movement.  But their ideology itself is rarely talked about and only then in platitudes, while on nearly every page there is a loving authorial focus on their methods.

Their main form of activity seems to be arranging the killing of people they don’t like.  They have agents high up in all majors institutions, allowing them to routinely kill public figures and successfully cover up their deaths.  (They love pointing out that these are not “murders” so much as “executions,” because they are bringing bad people to justice.)  They have a centralized power structure organized in circles around a single leader.  Their members obey orders from their superiors without question, up to and including sacrificing their lives.  Snitches and other betrayers are promptly and efficiently killed:

“Every one of the cabs is fitted with a telephonic arrangement communicating with the roof. The driver has only to button the wire of the transmitter up inside his coat so that the transmitter itself lies near to his ear, and he can hear even a whisper inside the cab. […]”

“It’s a splendid system, I should think, for discovering the movements of your enemies,” said Arnold, not without an uncomfortable reflection on the fact that he was himself now completely in the power of this terrible organisation, which had keen eyes and ready hands in every capital of the civilised world. “But how do you guard against treachery? It is well known that all the Governments of Europe are spending money like water to unearth this mystery of the Terror. Surely all your men cannot be incorruptible.”

“Practically they are so. The very mystery which enshrouds all our actions makes them so. We have had a few traitors, of course; but as none of them has ever survived his treachery by twenty-four hours, a bribe has lost its attraction for the rest.”

In fact, they sound exactly like a one world government, and despite being a bunch of anarchists who want all governments to be destroyed, they revel in the control they’ve achieved.  Yet their chosen method of destroying all governments is this targeted murder campaign which is carefully made to look like the work of many diffuse and weak activist groups.  Rather than, you know, saying “hey we actually control you all, the jig’s up now,” or just undermining the works from the inside.

The important Terrorists all seem to be super-rich and lead opulent lifestyles.  Partially this is because they need to pretend to be normal powerful people, and super-rich leaders are used as an explanation for how the Terrorists got so much power, but it’s still treated in the narration as awesome sexy coolness rather than a necessary evil.

Everyone talks in bombastic, Romantic speeches, and the Terrorists – who supposedly hide themselves from the world with unbroken success – are constantly tripping over themselves to reveal their true identities and explain key facets of their grand plans.  This is to a kid they’ve only just met, whom they have no reason to trust, and whom they only care about because he’s built a tiny flying machine that they believe will scale up to military use (because he says so).

There is a lot of talk about “the coming war.”  Everyone has the (correct) sense that the Great Powers are gonna have a big dust-up one of these days.  Since a bloody conflagration is going to happen one way or the other, might as well have it in the Good way, the one that fully destroys “Society,” so it can be followed by, um, something:

After that, if the course to be determined on by the Terrorist Council failed to arrive at the results which it was designed to reach, the armies of Europe would fight their way through the greatest war that the world had ever seen, the Fates would once more decide in favour of the strongest battalions, the fittest would triumph, and a new era of military despotism would begin – perhaps neither much better nor much worse than the one it would succeed.

If, on the other hand, the plans of the Terrorists were successfully worked out to their logical conclusion, it would not be war only, but utter destruction that Society would have to face. And then with dissolution would come anarchy. The thrones of the world would be overthrown, the fabric of Society would be dissolved, commerce would come to an end, the structure that it had taken twenty centuries of the discipline of war and the patient toil of peace to build up, would crumble into ruins in a few short months, and then – well, after that no man could tell what would befall the remains of the human race that had survived the deluge. The means of destruction were at hand, and they would be used without mercy, but for the rest no man could speak.

Our protagonist worries for a sec about brutal extrajudicial murder, but handily remembers that violent people aren’t actually human, so it’s OK to kill them:

Colston spoke in a cold, passionless, merciless tone, just as a lawyer might speak of a criminal condemned to die by the ordinary process of the law, and as Arnold heard him he shuddered. But at the same time the picture in the Council-chamber came up before his mental vision, and he was forced to confess that men who could so far forget their manhood as to lash a helpless woman up to a triangle and flog her till her flesh was cut to ribbons, were no longer men but wild beasts, whose very existence was a crime.

In what I’ve read so far, not much has been said about the leader, except that his name is Natas, which you’ll note is “Satan” backwards.  Internet summaries tell me he has a mysterious power to control people’s minds, as if this all weren’t Code Geass enough already

There’s been more focus on his daughter, Natasha, the titular “Angel of the Revolution,” who is beautiful and enchanting and yeah I’m sure you can fill this part in even if I stop typing

Apparently the rest of the book is about the Terrorists building flying war machines and fighting a big war against everyone, which they eventually win, which somehow means that War Has Ended Forever