Star Trek 40th Anniversary Blog

Forty Years of Star Trek by Arthur C Clarke

2006-09-07T22:39:00.000-07:00

Blog #40 by Arthur C Clarke

Forty years of Star Trek
(© Arthur C Clarke – all rights reserved.
Photos © by Jeff Greenwald. May not be used without permission.)

I still can’t believe that it’s now forty years since Star Trek entered our lives – and we started roaming the universe of Star Trek.

How things have changed! Star Trek was born at a time when the Space Age was less than a decade old, and humans had just taken a few faltering steps into near space. The United States and the late, unlamented USSR were locked in the Space Race, itself a product of the Cold War. The spectre of nuclear war loomed large, and the civil rights and women’s movements were still struggling for equality among humans.

Appearing at such a time in human history, Star Trek popularised much more than the vision of a space-faring civilisation. In episode after episode, it promoted the then unpopular ideals of tolerance for differing cultures and respect for life in all forms – without preaching, and always with a saving sense of humour.

Over the years, the sophistication of storylines and special effects has certainly improved, but Star Trek retains its core values – still very much needed in our sadly divided and quarreling world.

There are purists who say that Star Trek isn't science fiction, but science fantasy -- and they have a point. Genuine science fiction should describe things that could happen according to present knowledge, and today we are fairly certain that we won't be able to dash from one star system to another in time for the next week's episode. We can also be sure that the inhabitants of other worlds won't look anything like human beings -- or speak fluent American.

But we have to remember that much that once seemed fantasy has now become fact. Seventy years ago, if anyone had written a story in which a whole city was destroyed by banging two small pieces of metal together, virtually all physicists would have said: "Utter nonsense!" Yet this is how the greatest of wars was ended in 1945. Today there are many other examples of my Third Law: ‘Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic’ (I’m amused to hear from a friend that the villain Lex Luthor utters these very words in the latest Superman movie, which I haven’t yet seen. My agents will be following this up.)

Although Gene and I met only a few times, we had a warm friendship that lasted twenty years. I am proud to have played a part in creating one of the great icons of our time – as Gene reminded my biographer, Neil McAleer, when he made an extremely generous assessment of my contribution. Nor was this the first time; in 1987, he wrote for my seventieth birthday felicitation volume: “Arthur literally made my Star Trek idea possible, including the television series, the films, and the associations and learning it has made possible for me.”

He continued: “My association with the Clarke mind and concepts began in 1964 with his book Profiles of the Future. In 1969, I traveled to Arizona to listen to a Clarke lecture on astronomy, where….I was persuaded by him to continue my Star Trek projects despite the entertainment industry’s labeling the production as an unbelievable concept and a failure…It was a friendship that deepened into the most significant of my professional life.”

That was indeed how it happened. After attending my lecture, Gene introduced himself and told me that his series was being cancelled because the television executives, in their inscrutable wisdom, had decided that there was no audience for it. Poor Gene was broke and about to mortgage his home. I introduced him to my lecture agent, who was skeptical but booked him into a small hall -- which couldn't hold the audience he attracted.

The rest, as they say, was television history. I am very glad that Gene went on to achieve professional success and world respect. What must have given him even greater satisfaction is that he lived to see so many of his ideals triumphantly accepted. As I wrote in my tribute to Gene upon his death: “Few men have left a finer legacy. The Enterprise will be cruising the galaxy for centuries to come.”

Leaving the Red Shirts at Home

2006-09-06T22:15:00.000-07:00

FINALLY! I feel like I have been anticipating this event my entire life, and maybe I have considering my mom was pregnant with me in September of 1966! Early registration opens at the Sci-Fi Museum tomorrow, and I’m going to do my best to get to Seattle before 7pm. So, I’m packing tonight and having a heck of a time figuring out what I want to wear on Friday night. The one thing of which I am certain, I won’t be packing any red shirts!

Blog #39 by Dave Marinaccio,
author of All I Really Need to Know
I Learned from Watching Star Trek

Anyone with even a passing interest in Star Trek should know this rule: Never, ever, ever wear a red shirt-not under any circumstances. Don’t do it.

Pick any episode. Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock, a series of regular like Uhura and some guy you’ve never seen before are standing on the transporter pad. If the guy is wearing a red shirt, he will not live past the first commercial. Somewhere on the planet below the certain death awaits.

I’ve watched these guys in red shirts get shot, be blown up, be disintegrated, have all of their blood drained, have every cell in their body explode and otherwise meet the most painful and horrible deaths imaginable.

The endings aren’t even especially heroic. First a guy beams down, then he’s dead. At least it’s usually quick. Nine times out of ten, the poor fellow doesn’t have a clue what hit him. Within seconds, Bones examines the fallen crewman with a tricorder, turns to the captain and says, “He’s dead, Jim.” By the next scene it’s as if the guy never existed. There’s no wake, no funeral and most of the time his name is never spoken again.

I bought red swim trunks once. I took them with me on a scuba diving trip to the Cayman Islands. While wearing those trunks ninety-five feet underwater on the north wall of the ten-thousand-foot-deep Cayman Trench, my regulator came apart. For those of you unfamiliar with scuba, the regulator is the thing that you breathe with. No regulator, no air. Under ninety-five feet of water this is more than an inconvenience. I managed my way up to the surface. Once safely back in my hotel room, I threw the red swimsuit away.

You would think I had learned my lesson. Wrong, security-detail breath. I bought a red short-sleeved shirt last summer. Next morning I unfolded the shirt and took out the pins. Ouch! A small trickle of blood. No big deal.

Work was relatively unremarkable that day, and I hopped into my car for the commute home. A car, I later realized, is a twentieth-century version of a transporter pad. On the ride home—WHAM. I ran into a van. My front end crumbled. The van sustained no damage.

Although I wasn’t killed, there was several hundred dollars damage to my car, and I did receive a $125 fine from the United States Park Police (one of Washington’s many police forces.) I tossed out the red shirt that night.

I do not own red socks or a red jacket or a red sweater or anything else that is completely red. It’s a wonder I’m not afraid of Santa Claus. I do find red-haired women attractive but I don’t recall ever dating one. That’s probably for the best.

Listen, wear red if you want to, but I’ll pass.

STAR TREK 40TH ANNIVERSARY 1966 - 2006

2006-09-05T22:47:00.000-07:00

View original post on TrekUnited!

Fan Blogger--Rick Dostie from Treks in Sci-Fi

2006-09-04T21:02:00.000-07:00

Last week I mentioned my immersion in the podcasting craze this summer and said I would share a few of my favorites. Well, today we are hearing from Rico from Treks in Sci-Fi who kindly submitted a blog entry on very short notice. Be sure to check out his website and podcast. Rico celebrated the Treks in Sci-Fi podcast one year anniversary with a live web cam podcast yesterday, which included some great giveaways. Congratulations, Rico!

Blog #37 by Rick Dostie,
Treks in Sci-Fi

"How Star Trek helped make me who I am"

Wow, has it really already been forty years of Star Trek? It's hard to believe its been around that long already. I have been a fan of the show almost my entire life. I started watching when the original series was in syndication and haven't stopped since. Star Trek shows a vision of the future that gives us all hope and examples of tolerance and equality that we all can learn from. The show also gave me hope when I needed it most. You see, my father passed away when I was quite young. It was a difficult time for me. A few years after his passing I happened to discover a Star Trek rerun on television. I think it was the episode "Tomorrow is Yesterday." I remember being quite taken with the show right from the start. I especially enjoyed the interplay between the three main characters of Kirk, Spock & Dr. McCoy. They seemed to really care about each other even though they sometimes disagreed on things. With my father gone I think I sort of adopted the Trek family as sort of a surrogate group that I could learn from. As I started to watch all the episodes over and over again in syndication, I was able to learn many important things about what it means to be a good human being. From Kirk, I learned to be decisive and to listen to my instincts. From Spock, I learned to be analytical and to keep my emotions in check when necessary. And from Dr. McCoy, I learned to be caring and to speak out against things that are wrong. I think there is a Star Trek T-shirt someone made that says something like I learned everything I need to know from Star Trek. It's sort of cliché but that is somewhat true for me.

As time passed I started to really embrace the show even more and this led me to others that shared my passion for the series. I met a small group of friends in school that also enjoyed the series very much. We would get together often and discuss the various episodes and comment on what we would do in those situations. Since Star Trek was still only in syndication with the original three seasons, we started to come up with our own storylines for episodes. At this point we decided to create our own little "spin-off" ship called the Aurora. We wrote several scripts for our own episodes and recorded them on to audio cassette tapes. It was a huge amount of fun getting together with everyone and doing the recording sessions. I, being the techie and science guy in the group, got to play the science officer on the ship, of course. I remember trying to gather sound effects off various televised episodes and inserting them into our recordings. This was back in the days before CDs, computers, mp3 files and so forth. So it was quite a chore to edit the shows together simply using a couple of tape recorders. In the end, we came up with six episodes all of which I still have to this day.

Another area which Star Trek inspired me to get involved is in model and prop making. There was very little around in terms of collectibles that you could buy from Star Trek during that era, so I decided to make my own. Using very little reference material—except what I saw many times on the TV—I created my own props such as the classic phasers and communicators from the show. I made these out of whatever I could find around my house. Paper, cardboard, plastic, wood, etc. were all used in various ways to create the many devices seen on the show. I became a very good model maker, carpenter, and electrician just from my desire to recreate these items that were not available anywhere at the time. It was lots of trial and error; and I spent many summers building and creating Star Trek merchandise of my own in my basement growing up. I even ended up building mockups of the bridge helm console and Spock's station. It's amazing what some Christmas lights, wood, switches and contact paper can accomplish. I think my mother still wonders where our Christmas lights kept disappearing to year after year.

I also started to do a little costuming during this time and began going to Star Trek conventions. The cons back then were much smaller than today, and I miss that aspect of them now. My brother and I even won a costume competition in Toronto way back then. My friends and I would visit the dealers room looking for little things we could buy with our limited funds. I remember very well seeing a fan made phaser for sale with a strobe light in the tip back then. I was in awe of it. I think it was selling for $100, which was a small fortune for me back then. But I examined it and used some of what I learned to make my own replicas better. After I returned home, I then started to buy electronics books in order to learn how to wire more elaborate circuits into my creations. Star Trek really sparked my desire to learn a variety of different and useful skills in order to build things I had seen on the show.

As time passed, most of my friends moved on a bit from Star Trek, and I also did to a degree. We still loved the show, but other things in life started to take up more and more of our time. As I moved through college I still would watch the reruns and catch the movies as they came out. I made some new friends in college that were also fans of Trek. It was interesting, because it was starting to seem (as time went on) that many more people than I thought were into the show. I always think it was that hope for the future that was one of the best and most appealing aspects of the series.

Eventually, I got married, had some kids, and "settled down" so to speak. I've always kept up on all the various Star Trek series and still go to the occasional convention. About a year ago, I started to listen to these new Internet audio talk shows called podcasts. I've always enjoyed computers and technology and had a small web site that I tinkered with to learn html and so forth. I began to look around for a good Star Trek podcast with intelligent discussions about the show. There were a few around but nothing that really was what I wanted. I decided to create my very own podcast. I used the name of my web site for the show. It's called Treks in Sci-Fi. It's a weekly show (sometimes two a week) about Star Trek and other science fiction movies and TV that I enjoy. Most episodes I do a commentary on a particular Trek episode. This can be an episode from any of the various series, although I do tend to cover the original series a bit more since I know it best. It's mainly a solo podcaster type show, but I do group shows from time to time with members from the forums and listeners discussing a particular subject. Each podcast is usually around one hour long and takes quite a bit of work to put together. But it's tons of fun! I've met many great new friends by doing the show. Anyone that wants to give my show a listen stop on by. I encourage anyone interested in a particular subject to listen to podcasts about it and maybe start your own if you are interested in that. It's a great way to take your passion for something and share it with the community on the Internet.

In closing, I just want to thank Gene Roddenberry for creating this wonderful TV show and really the whole Trek universe. It helped me through a time in my life when I needed hope and role models to look up to. It also encouraged me to learn many skills I know I would not now have if it weren't for my love of the show. I'm a much better person from watching and learning from a simple TV show than I would have been without it. Thanks Star Trek and Happy 40th anniversary.

Follow these links to check out the Treks in Sci-Fi website and podcast:

http://www.treksinscifi.com

http://www.treksf.com

Transporter Operator Wilson beams on in from NY

2006-09-03T20:24:00.000-07:00

I am so excited about today’s blog entry and the power of the Internet to connect us with people whom we would never have met. As you read in Blog #33, I happened across Garland L. Thompson, Jr.’s poem "Ensign, Hand Me Your Phaser!" while searching for poetry podcasts. I commented on his poem and posted it on this site last Thursday. Well, Mr. Thompson got in touch with me and forwarded the blog link to his father in New York. This morning I received the following blog entry in my inbox! How cool is that?!

Blog #36 by Garland Lee Thompson, Sr., Founder/Exec. Director,
Frank Silvera Writers' Workshop Foundation, Inc. of New York

“FROM RAY BRADBURY TO GENE RODDENBERRY”

Two of the most important writers/producers in my life and professional career are Ray Bradbury (The Martian Chronicles) and Gene Roddenberry (Creator of the Star Trek TV series). I first introduced myself and my acting work to Gene Roddenberry when I auditioned for his Star Trek series, and I invited him to screen a 1964 Academy Award nominated short film in which I performed the title role in The Legend of Jimmy Blue-Eyes (directed by Academy Award-winner Robert Clouse). After he viewed our Jimmy Blues-Eyes film, he explained to me that the series Executive Producers had decided to cast actress Nichelle Nichols as the "Communications Officer" on board the "Starship Enterprise." However, he would consider casting me as "The Transporter Operator Wilson," as a recurring role when needed.

In the meantime, in 1965, I went to work as a technician/assistant stage manager for Ray Bradbury's Theatre Company production of his sci-fi plays in Hollywood at the Coronet Theatre. While working for Ray Bradbury, which was like taking a master course in Theatre, he graciously encouraged me to also write, after he read a short film treatment idea of mine. My acting coach, the director Corey Allen, also liked my short film idea and optioned it and we made my first film as a writer, MadGame, in1966. It included my three-year old son, Garland Jr., as a little boy playing "war games" with other kids in a public park in Los Angeles, Ca.

During that same period in 1965, Gene Roddenberry kept his promise and did cast me in his fifth episode of the original Star Trek series entitled, "The Enemy Within," starring William Shatner (Captain James T. Kirk) and directed by Leo Penn. This was definitely "going places where no one has gone before." As "The Transporter Operator Wilson," I was blessed with two personal film scenes with Captain Kirk. First, when we "beamed" him up to the "Starship Enterprise," and due to a malfunction of the transporter, he was split into two Captain Kirks. One was negative and the other was positive (a good and a bad Captain Kirk). Both characters looked just like our "fearless leader," to my character as a crewman on the spaceship. What a debut for a new young actor it was. Firstly, I was alone with the "Starship Captain," who looked just like himself, in uniform and all. Secondly, Gene Rodderberry (The Creator) and the writer Richard Matheson, wrote my ensign character to pass the private quarters of Captain Kirk, and director Leo Penn, staged my character to be confronted with: "Ensign, give me your phaser!" And immediately afterwards the negative Captain Kirk, attacked my character, knocking me down martial arts style. I rolled onto a safety floor mat and director Leo Penn cried, "Cut & print it!" And the set crew all applauded Mr. Shatner's and my scene performance. Why? Not because it was so great, but because it was done in one "film take," and all the crew could then go to lunch early!

For me too, it was a relief indeed. For I, as a "rookie player," with "the Star," had gone aside and quickly rehearsed our body moves together as in dance and stage combat. And that’s what made it work. William Shatner is trained in martial arts, stage combat and I am also and in dance. I was a teenage dancer in my film debut in the Twentieth Century-Fox major film, South Pacific, (1957), in Hollywood, as a "Fire Tender, on the Island of Bali Hai" (on the old back movie lot at Twentieth Century-Fox Studio).

Gene Roddenberry awarded my family and I with a second episode of Star Trek entitled Charlie X (1966) with me cast as a "Crewman." But it was nearly two years before the Star Trek casting office called me for a third episode, in which I could not do, because I was under a stage manager contract at the Inner City Cultural Center Repertory in Los Angeles, Ca. Thus, I was forced and may have become one of the few actors in Hollywood to turn down a Star Trek episode. I shall have to live with that fact, and unfortunately, I never saw Gene Roddenberry again in this life.

I now remember back when my mother, Sylvia N. Thompson, came to Hollywood to visit me, that I was able to introduce her to Gene Roddenberry on the Star Trek set at Paramount Studio. I shall be forever grateful for that fact, but I only regret that my son Garland Jr. was too young to be there also to meet the great Gene Roddenberry. And my daughter Alex was not born yet. But I must remember "my take" on this life situation: "Don't let your son catch you crying (Or your daughter, either)."

Now, as far as "Star Trek" is concerned, I was glad "to beam them up, Scotty," "To go where no one has gone before," as Nichelle Nichols wrote about in her 1994 book, Beyond Uhura: Star Trek and Other Memories. Or as Ray Bradbury and Gene Roddenberry taught me: "He who hesitates, spectates." "Make it so, engage!"

Be sure to check out Blog #33 by Garland L. Thompson, Jr. and his poem, "Ensign, Hand Me Your Phaser!"

To Enhance or Not To Enhance?

2006-09-02T20:50:00.000-07:00

Blog #35 by Amy Ulen

This is it. As of today, I only have four more days for blog entries before I post the big Arthur C. Clarke blog with photos. I really want to fill the final four days with your words. Who are you? How has Star Trek influenced your life? What is your favorite Star Trek series/episode and why? What are you anticipating the most about the Star Trek conference in Seattle next weekend? This is your time to shine, so send your thoughts (and photos if possible) to Amy Ulen today!

Like me, many of you are counting down the minutes to Planet Xpo’s STAR TREK 40th Anniversary Gala Celebration & Conference in Seattle next weekend. As I gear up for the conference, I’ve been checking out all the latest Star Trek news, blogs, and podcasts. I’ll share some of my favorites with you over the next couple of days. After watching the Star Trek marathon on G4 again this morning, I’ve been thinking about CBS Paramount’s announcement about the “enhanced” Star Trek episodes. I have conflicted feelings about this, so I’m looking forward to discussing it with people who have more to say about it than my husband. His only comment was that “Paramount has lost their minds!” The man is a Trek purist. If you aren’t sure what I’m talking about, check out the Remastering Star Trek: TOS FX, Music Enhanced article posted on startrek.com on 8/31/06. Be sure to come back here and leave your comments.

On a related side note, you may have seen Daren R. Dochterman’s website, http://www.trekenhanced.com/ and his version of “The Doomsday Machine” posted on YouTube. Daren clearly states on his 8/31/06 blog that he isn’t involved with this new enhanced Star Trek project, so don’t get the two confused. He has done some great work, though, so be sure to check out his website.

When you are done exploring all of these links, come back here and let me know what you think. To enhance or not to enhance?

Only one week to go!

2006-09-01T21:50:00.000-07:00

September is here…finally! One week from today—at this very moment—we will be celebrating 40 years of Star Trek at the Space Needle in Seattle! No matter what is going on in our lives, in one week we get to shed all of our cares and play! I look forward to meeting you all as we celebrate the show that changed the world.

Blog #34 by Dave Marinaccio,
author of All I Really Need to Know
I Learned from Watching Star Trek

Finnegan was an upperclassman at Starfleet Academy. An upperclassman who tormented a plebe he called “Jimmy me boy.” Jimmy me boy was , of course, Cadet James T. Kirk. Long after Kirk graduated from the academy, the captain of the Enterprise remembered Finnegan.

“Remembered” isn’t strong enough a word. What James Kirk wanted was to beat the tar out of Finnegan. And beat him silly he did—years later, on a planet that made dreams come true.

Virtually every member of the Enterprise lived out a fantasy on that planet, a planet constructed for the sole purpose of recreation. A planet constructed by an intelligence so far beyond our own. Spock wondered why they needed recreation at all.

The curator could have answered Spock. But it was Kirk who spoke. “The more complex the mind, the greater the need for the simplicity of play.” Bingo. On the nose. Home run. Yeah, buddy. I’m gonna turn all the cards over. “The more complex the mind, the greater the need for the simplicity of play.”

Other phrases may sound similar. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. Work hard and play hard. All those clichés are close but no cigar—they subtly miss the mark.

This is a prescription for maintaining one’s mental health. An understanding that intelligence requires both purpose and diversion. That the more challenging uses a mind is put to, the more important it is to have fun. CEOs should scuba dive. CEOs must scuba dive. A vacation isn’t just a good idea, it’s an absolute need.

To tailor the concept a bit, the more complex the task (or job) the greater the need to build in some fun. Extrapolate this baby all over the lot. Star Trek strikes again. Everything you need to know is in this series someplace.

In this particular instance, it’s also stated as eloquently as imaginable. The more complex the mind, the greater the need for the simplicity of play.

Ensign, Hand me your Phaser! (If He Only Knew)

2006-08-31T19:49:00.000-07:00

I’m going to try something a little new with the blog today and want everyone to come back here to let me know what you think!

I’ve spent my summer immersed in podcasting and came across the audio poem “Ensign, Hand me your Phaser! (If He Only Knew)” by Garland L. Thompson Jr. on pocast.com. After listening to this poem, I checked out imdb.com and, sure enough, Garland Thompson played Transporter Technician Wilson in “The Enemy Within” and “Charlie X.” I e-mailed Garland L. Thompson Jr. a couple of weeks ago to see if he or his dad would like to write something for this blog, but I haven’t heard back from him. Since we are running out of time, I’m going to provide a link to the audio file of his poem, so we have time to discuss it before the big event. So, please listen to it and then come back here to comment! Oh, and I’m also going to copy it onto my iPod and bring it to Seattle so Nichelle Nichols can listen to it, too!

Blog #33 by Garland L. Thompson Jr.
(Originally posted on pocast.com May 16, 2005)

“Ensign, Hand me your Phaser! (If He Only Knew)”
Click on this link to download the MP3 file of the author reading his poem.

He Is Not Spock

2006-08-30T20:16:00.000-07:00

Blog #32 by Jeff Greenwald
Author of Future Perfect:
How Star Trek Conquered Planet Earth

Taken from the chapter
"He Is Not Spock"

…Nimoy recalls two specific incidents where translation had a direct impact upon the popularity or perception of Star Trek. The first occurred in France, years after TOS aired in America. Nimoy tried to find out, at Paramount’s request, why the original series had done so poorly there. He learned that, early on, Paramount had cut corners by importing the Canadian, Quebecois-dubbed version of Star Trek to France. One can imagine how the French reacted; the show went over like yak-wool panties.

The second incident occurred in Japan, during a promotional tour for Star Trek III: The Search for Spock, in 1984. On his way to a bookstore signing, Nimoy met the translator of the Star Trek novels in Japan.

“We had an interesting conversation, to say the least.” Nimoy laughs, a gesture that transforms his entire appearance. “He was extremely chauvinistic. He said—” Nimoy frowns, and furrows his brow like a Hokusai samurai— “ ‘I must make changes in the Star Trek novels, for Japanese audience!’ I said, ‘What kind of changes?’ And he said, ‘Aaahh! Too much, ah, familiarity with crew and captain! Japanese culture does not accept this kind of easy familiarity: Dr. McCoy and Mr. Spock with Captain Kirk! Authority figures demand more respect. Not appropriate conversation in Star Trek!’

“I told him that one of the things Star Trek was about was the camaraderie between these people. ‘Not acceptable for Japanese audience!’ said he.

“I came back and told this to Gene Roddenberry. I was shocked by it. I thought, this is an amazing misuse of power by this man—to decide how Star Trek should be interpreted for Japan!”

As Nimoy speaks, I find myself stealing glances at his ears. They are large ears, beautifully shaped, and, for the moment, perfectly human. They may be, I realize, the most notorious ears in history. Nearly every book about the making of Star Trek describes in exquisite detail the agonies these poor ears have suffered: the endless plaster castings, the rubber molds, the fittings with foam rubber and glue; month after month of trial and error, culminating at last in the otherworldly appendages familiar to everyone from Dennis Rodman to the Dalai Lama. Seeing those famous ears this way—in their natural, unguarded state—is vaguely shocking, like seeing God without his beard.

“You know,” I say, “what you’ve done may be unique in the history of entertainment. You’ve created a mythological character as compelling as any in world literature. But have you given any thought as to why Spock strikes such a universal chord? What is it about Spock himself that resonates so deeply with people?”

“I think it operates on a lot of levels,” he reflects. “Early on, when the show first went on the air, I was receiving mounds and mounds of fan mail from little kids. They couldn’t have had any concept of what Spock was about, except that he was a strange and interesting-looking man, one who didn’t frighten them.”

The children sent him thousands of drawings, all of Spock. Something about the Vulcan’s image—the ears, the eyebrows, the bowl-cut hair—was tremendously compelling to them.

“Which was very interesting, because NBC was very trepidant about the ears and the eyebrows.” Nimoy leans back, his arm draped casually behind his head. “They especially thought Spock might be problematic in the Bible Belt, where people would see him as a devilish character.” He smiles faintly. “It was quite the contrary, of course…And then there’s the aspect of Spock’s distance, Spock’s coolness,” Nimoy continues. “Which played well in the ‘60s, when ‘cool’ was important. I’ve also read pieces by women, that describe Spock as someone whom women wanted to nurture, as he seemed to need the warmth that a woman can offer. There was also the challenge of, ‘Could I be the one to “awaken” Spock? Could I be the one who can help him get in touch with his sexuality, and with intimacy?’ ”

I was hooked on Spock at twelve—but it obviously wasn’t about sex, or nurturing. And although I never trotted out my Vulcan Green Crayola, he definitely got under my skin. He’s there still —and I admit as much to Nimoy. He nods sympathetically.

“That’s because there is also a sensitive side to Spock, to which a lot of people, male and female, responded. Also very important—at least I thought it was, because it was what I was constantly playing—is the yin/yang balance between our right and left brains. How do you get through life as a feeling person, without letting emotions rule you? How do you balance the intellectual and emotional sides of your being? I think people identified with that and understood that, in that sense, Spock is a very human character. He chooses to downplay, ignore, deny, his emotions—but he has them.”

Nimoy scratches his chin, and I notice his arm. He’s wearing, of all things, a Mickey Mouse wristwatch. The juxtaposition of these two characters, these two familiar icons from the American mythos, is transcendentally weird. I try to imagine the reverse: Steamboat Willie, whistling off to work with a Star Trek lunch pail.

“I think Spock was a proud alien,” Nimoy concludes. “Proudly alienated. And kids still identify with that. I see kids today with strange hair, strange piercings, tattoos; this is all about alienation, and establishing a separate identity. ‘I am not one of the crowd. I am different. I am special.’ And Spock always was different and special. Jokingly, to Dr. McCoy [DeForest Kelley], he would say, ‘This is the way I am, and I don’t have a problem with it. If you do, it’s your problem.’ I think that resonates for young people. Teenagers, adolescents, who are trying to play out their own identity in the world, without getting sucked into the mass culture.”

But it is mass culture, of course, that has given them Spock in the first place. Beaming from television sets and theater screens from Darwin to Dubuque, Nimoy’s alter ego was the harbinger of a future world in which logic would reign over emotion, and rational thought triumph over blind faith. He was a digital being in an analog world, the Pied Piper for the wired generation.

Countdown to 40: On the Final Frontier

2006-08-29T20:04:00.000-07:00

William Kowinski recently posted on Soul of Star Trek that he “will be moderating a panel called ‘The Soul of Star Trek: The Prime Directive and Beyond’ at the Planet Xpo Star Trek 40th Anniversary Gala Celebration in Seattle. As of now it’s scheduled for Friday, September 8 at 3:30 p in the main auditorium at the Science Fiction Museum. Also on the panel will be screenwriter (and TNG writer) Tracy Torme, and authors Jeff Greenwald (Future Perfect) and Dave Marinaccio (All I Really Need to Know I Learned From Star Trek). So if you’re going to be in Seattle, come on by where no blog has gone before, and engage.” Here is a recent excerpt from his blog, and I encourage you to read the entire entry/series by visiting Soul of Star Trek.

Blog #31 by William S. Kowinski
from Soul of Star Trek
(originally published Saturday, August 19, 2006)

excerpt from Countdown to 40: On the Final Frontier

First in a brief series leading up to the 40th anniversary of the first Star Trek episode to air in the U.S.

On a Friday afternoon in October 1957, Gene Roddenberry could have been among commuters driving on the freeways of Los Angeles, with their radios playing. He was 36 years old, and finally and officially living in a world of stories, and now some of them were his.

His script, “The Great Mohave Chase,” had been filmed for the third episode of the new adult western series, “Have Gun, Will Travel,” which aired the previous Saturday. “West Point Story,” the first series he’d written for regularly, would have been on tonight except that a month ago it switched networks, and was broadcast on Tuesdays now. Tonight “Court of Last Resort,” would be broadcast on NBC, a drama about crime experts who reviewed cases in which convicted criminals might be innocent. Gene’s friend and mentor, the mystery writer Eric Stanley Gardner, had started this panel in the real world. An actor was portraying him on the series. Perhaps GR was planning to tune into that. In the east, where it was already 8 p.m., people were already watching it.

But a few hours before, news of an astonishing event began to spread quickly in government and scientific circles. At about 6:30 pm on the east coast, President Eisenhower had been alerted at Camp David.

Commuters in LA might be listening to Jimmie Rodgers sing “Honeycomb,” the current number one hit, or the song it dethroned, “That’ll Be the Day” by Buddy Holly and the Crickets. But a few minutes after 8 p.m in New York, NBC technicians recorded something completely unpredicted, shocking and alarming. Soon everyone would hear it. An NBC announcer broke into programming coast to coast.

“Listen now for the sound,” the announcer said, “which forevermore separates the old from the new.”

I don’t know when Gene Roddenberry heard this sound. I know when I did.

I was 11 years old. (So was Bill Clinton and George W. Bush. Steven Speilberg would turn 11 in a couple of months. George Lucas was 13. ) I was at home, just outside a small town in western Pennsylvania. I was in my room, sitting at the heavy, dark-grained hand-me-down wooden desk that was surely older than I was. I had set aside the brown notebook in which I was writing a story about an alien invasion called “The Desert Menace,” to concentrate on my homework. It was already dark outside, and most of the room was dark as well, except for a circle of bright light from the lamp hovering over the desk, a green-shaded bulb at the end of a long, multi-jointed arm. It was quiet, and I didn’t even notice the muffled sound of the television set beyond the far wall behind my bed.

My door opened suddenly and startled me. It was my father, who seldom knocked. He and my mother were watching TV in the living room. I knew it wasn’t time yet for “The Life of Riley,” which our family often watched together on Friday nights, sharing a bowl of popcorn. My father asked if I’d been listening to the radio. I glanced up at it—a supposed “short wave” radio he’d assembled from a kit, but despite its impressive dials, slate gray face in front of exposed glowing tubes, transistors and resistors, it seldom pulled in more than the local AM station. It sat on the bookshelf just above my desk, next to the globe. I answered, “no,” defensively, thinking he was checking on my attention to my homework. But that wasn’t it. He told me that they’d just said on television that the Russians had launched a satellite into space, and it was in orbit around the earth at that very moment. They’d broadcast the actual sound of the signal coming from the satellite, called Sputnik.

I was too amazed to move. Nothing like this had ever happened before. After my father returned to the living room I turned on my radio, and eventually I did hear the eerie, even-toned beeping sound from space. Even though many people—even other kids—made fun of the whole idea of spaceships, I was already fascinated by anything to do with rockets and outer space. Besides Saturday morning science fiction on TV and Saturday matinees at the movies, I’d seen the “Tomorrowland” program on Disneyland with Werner von Braun, that went step by step through the history of rocketry, the problems that had to be solved in order to get into space, ending with an animated dramatization of the first manned space shot.

In school I read about the International Geophysical Year going on this year, and I was always looking for news about the satellite the U.S. hoped to rocket into orbit as part of it. I’d even heard one of the smartest men in America, the quiz show champion Charles van Doren, talk about it on a television documentary about the IGY. The newsman asked him if the Russians might orbit a satellite first. He just chuckled.

But now the Russians had. I had absorbed enough of the Cold War mentality to be alerted and perhaps a little afraid. I couldn’t think of anything to do but record my thoughts that moment in my brown school notebook:

"The Russians, Conquerors of Space. Oct.4, 1957. I have just heard some news which will affect my whole future. Russia has just successfully launched the first man-made satellite into space…How did the Russians do it? Out of their own ingenuity? Did they get information from a spy in America? A traitor? All the work our scientists and top brains did, what for? Will the Russians take advantage of this and use it to start a war?"

The technical achievement of humans sending a rocket into space to deliver an artificial satellite into orbit around the earth marked a monumental moment. For some, this very fact was profoundly shocking. “It is hard for people now to realize how stubbornly the idea of any form of space travel was opposed before that date," wrote Brian Aldiss, “and not only by the supposedly ignorant.”

But besides boys with stars in their eyes, many of those who had flown sophisticated aircraft high into the darkening sky, and those who had read and written science fiction, must have felt some universal thrill at the news. Gene Roddenberry of course had done all of those things (his proposal for a Science Fiction Theater episode the year before had been turned down, but the basic idea would someday recur in the holodeck of the Starship Enterprise-D.) He may well have noted that an important threshold had been crossed, from science fiction into reality that would transform the future.

Read the full article at Soul of Star Trek

Previous blog by William S. Kowinski

Blog #17: "Inside the Magic" from The Inner Light, The Outer Darkness.

Sheesh! Thanks a lot, Marty!”

2006-08-28T20:05:00.000-07:00

Blog #30 by Marc B. Lee,
Master of Ceremonies, ST40

“SHEESH! THANKS A LOT, MARTY!”

I’ve read many wonderful passages in these blogs and have come to a conclusion—it’s time to lighten this sucker up! Appreciation is nice. Worship is treasured…but I have a beef to share with you all and it begins like this:

Reach in your purse, grab your hip or dig into your pockets and you’ll probably find a small communication device which has now become a necessity more so than a luxury. Those in attendance at the Science Fiction Museum on the weekend of September 8th will know who was initially responsible for those rude ring tones, those loud cell phone speakers and those damn text screen terminologies. Oh, he may not be directly responsible for the advances to cell phone technology, but he’ll be the closest dude in the neighborhood for my rants.

You’ll listen to the great Martin Cooper and wonder to yourself, “Should I go up and shake this guy’s hand or punch his lights out?” LOL! Of course you’ll choose the first choice for the sole reason that this is a guy to be honored, to be thanked and to be asked one simple question: Why? Why did you do it Marty? Why?

I drive in traffic and I look over to my right to see that soccer mom trying to make a left turn across the front of my hood because the guy attached to the speaker in her ear which is attached the woman who is attached to her steering wheel decided she needs to get into MY lane and she has decided RIGHT NOW would be a perfect time to piss me off!! Thanks a lot, Marty!

I go to the movies, there to enjoy a nice quiet theater experience when I see a simulated trailer of two Asian guys fighting on water. They stop their battle only to respond to what seems to be a cell phone ringing out of nowhere. Finally words blast on the screen for the audience to do a simple procedure in respect to the patrons around them. Just when you think all 500 persons in the theater gets the message and abides by natural etiquette, GUESS WHAT?! Thanks a lot, Marty!!! Can’t wait to meet’cha!

I’m shopping in Wal-Mart—yeah you heard me, Wal-Mart—and I’m looking for that nice reduced price on kitchen utensils when I eye a cute damsel needing a little help reaching for an item. I quickly spring into action when her cell phone goes off. I saw her as a wonderful person I may eventually want to get know until she answers the phone and speaks as if she was announcing the players of the Miami Dolphins as they entered the stadium. I could have sworn I heard her say “Can you hear me now?” too. Right on, Marty!

Mr. Martin Cooper, through his vision of what I assumed he ultimately saw in Jim Kirk’s hand, felt it necessary to volunteer his brilliant mind, his wonderful imagination, in the pursuit of happiness for the people of Earth. Mr. Martin Cooper shared with us a device we admittedly cannot do without, and has decided to come to Seattle to tell us all about it. I look forward to Mr. Cooper’s visit for I have a lot of wonderful questions and unrestrained anger to share with him. I’m sure I am not the first person with the need of sharing their thoughts to ol’ Marty and I suspect his training with a Tibetan monk in the art of self-defense, or maybe his skill with firearms and kitchen cutlery has brought him a new appreciation for the art of communication he is so responsible for. I’m sure I don’t stand a chance against Martin Cooper. He’ll only grab me by the short hairs, extend his forefinger and press my mute button. I’ll probably vibrate too.

Thanks for nothing, Martin Cooper…and thanks for everything. We look forward to chatting with you and listening to what will surely be wonderful stories that led you to a marvelous advancement in the field of personal communications. Thank you so much, Marty, but can you do me a small favor? Just a tiny one? Can you work on a cerebral communications implant next time so I can stop dodging soccer moms who feel I am occupying the same space they are about to? Please? Pretty please???

I’ll see you all in Seattle when a gathering of individuals, like-minded individuals, will come to a sort of Mecca, a place of appreciation in honor of a broadcast on American television that revised the scientific path of this world.

One week after the first day of next month, members of the intellectual community will gather to share with you their visions that eventually became realities, which ultimately instilled itself into the everyday fabric of America, and tell you what inspired them to do it. I’m sure their attendance at STAR TREK’s 40th Anniversary is for a very good reason…and oh, thanks a lot, Marty!

Blogs by Martin Cooper

Blog #4: “Wireless Enterprise—part 1” by Martin Cooper

Blog #5: “Wireless Enterprise—part 2” by Martin Cooper

Blog #6: “Wireless Enterprise—part 3” by Martin Cooper

More by Marc B. Lee

Blog #13: “Fannish Dreams, Fannish Realities” by Marc B. Lee

"25 Years on the Final Frontier"—part 2

2006-08-27T19:55:00.000-07:00

Blog #29: 25 Years on the Final Frontier by Sky Conway
(originally printed in Ad Astra, September 1991)

"25 Years on the Final Frontier"

2006-08-26T12:59:00.000-07:00

As we prepare to celebrate 40 years of Star Trek with Mr. Conway and the rest of the Planet Xpo team, let’s take a look at what he had to say about the 25th anniversary in Ad Astra, the magazine of the National Space Society. I’ll divide this article over two days. Click on each image to see a larger image file.

Blog #28: 25 Years on the Final Frontier by Sky Conway
(originally printed in Ad Astra, September 1991)

Be sure to come back tomorrow to see the rest of this article!

Fan Blogger--Dr. Becky Fartash

2006-08-25T18:25:00.000-07:00

Blog #27 by Dr. Becky Fartash

"Dr. McCoy, My Idol"

As my young eyes gazed upward in wonderment at the starry skies, I wondered, what’s out there and can I be part of it someday? My childhood curiosity in the Heavens was only rivaled by my desire to help others in need and to make a difference. The tumultuous adolescent years were filled with plans, hopes and apprehension of what the future may hold. I was fascinated by one of my favorite television shows which presented such a future, seen at the present. I remember being glued to the set when Star Trek was on, watching and savoring every moment of the program. Seeing colorfully uniformed men and women of all races working side by side, encountering challenging situations in outer space and arriving at a meaningful end each episode, presented a surreal world where there was no hunger, greed or bigotry.

As an adolescent, I admired the major characters of Star Trek including a charismatic captain, a cool, intelligent and partly-human first officer and a devoted bridge crew; however, I was most intrigued by the ship’s doctor. Dr. McCoy, played by our beloved De Forest Kelley, represented the ideal medical practitioner; he was intelligent, unpretentious and caring. His practice of medicine, although modern and futuristic as the 23rd century would prompt, seemed somehow familiar and Earthly. His integrity and devotion to his work and patients further sparked my interest in the art of healing. The dignity and immensity of his character withstood even the all-too-famous single-liner spoofs such as “he’s dead Jim” and “I’m a doctor, not a…..” Dr. McCoy was always poised and ready to render medical help under the most difficult circumstances. However, he managed to keep his country charm and caring demeanor even while butting heads with Mr. Spock during Red Alert situations.

The future medical technology portrayed in the show appeared unreal yet, attainable. It is amazing to see how Gene Rodenberry’s vision from forty years ago is becoming a reality in our current medical field. The medical monitors and tricorders, the hypospray shots, laser scalpels, and protoplasers to heal wounds seem closer at reach now than ever before. Dr. McCoy’s skills and expertise to utilize such instruments to heal and save lives prompted my young psyche to choose and confirm my path for the future. I wanted to be a doctor just like him when I grew up.

Although, in lieu of a blue medical tunic, I wear a white jacket and examine and heal eyes now, I will always have Dr. McCoy of the Starship Enterprise as my hero and idol. While receiving my patients, I remember his kind face, caring eyes and skilled hands demonstrating how deeply he loved his profession and his dedication to his patients. I then strive harder to achieve the same; I truly think that I am a better doctor because of him. A little “McCoy mannerism” practiced in our profession can do wonders for our patients.

Dr. McCoy/DeForest Kelley has been a popular topic of this blog:

Blog #23: Husband-Hunting on the Enterprise

Blog #3: Excerpt from DeForest Kelley: A Harvest of Memories

Blog #2: Get to know DeForest Kelley through Kristine Smith!

All I Really Need to Know I Learned from Watching Star Trek

2006-08-24T17:03:00.000-07:00

Blog #26 by Dave Marinaccio,
author of All I Really Need to Know
I Learned from Watching Star Trek

"Introduction"

I work in one of the noblest enterprises ever conceived by man, advertising. My work environment is a stress-filled one. About the only thing taken for granted is that today’s problems will be completely different from yesterday’s. At its best, it can be said that the job offers variety. Unfortunately, it’s the same old variety day after day.

In situations of change, it is natural for human beings to look for touchstones. As a human being, I had always sought a center to my life, an example to follow. What I hadn’t realized was that I was already following a path into the future. It was pointed out to me at a business meeting.

I was comparing a current problem to something I had watched on television the previous night. I can’t recall the particular problem, but I do recall saying, “Well, we could be diplomatic, but as Scotty said on Star Trek last night, ‘The best diplomat I know is a fully charged phaser bank.’”

“You turn everything into Star Trek,” a coworker responded.

She was right. For years I’ve related everything in life to Star Trek. But why not? Captain James Tiberius Kirk is the most successful person I’ve ever observed. He’s a great leader, a good manager of people, dedicated, moral, adaptable, at the top of his profession, gets the girls, is well known and respected. There are worse role models.

Most importantly, I was practically a Phi Beta Kappa in Star Trek. As a kid it was my favorite TV show. As an adult, virtually every night after work I would walk in the door, collapse on the couch and hit the remote control. Like most men, the remote control is part of my arm. Unlike most men, I can actually watch an entire program. Just so long as the program is Star Trek.

Anyway, that comment at work helped me discover something I already knew. I realized then that I already know what’s necessary to live a meaningful life—that it isn’t all that complicated.

ALL I REALLY NEEDED TO KNOW about how to live and what to do and how to be I learned watching Star Trek. These are the things I learned:

Each person or each species, no matter how alien, has the right to live their lives as they wish. (As long as they’re not trying to take over the galaxy or eat you or something.)
Everyone has a role in life. Sulu is the navigator. Uhura is the communications specialist. Do your own job and the ship will function more smoothly.
Whatever you are doing, answer a distress call. The most important time to help someone is when they need it.
If you mess something up, it’s your responsibility to make things right again. (Say you disrupt history and cause the Nazis to win World War II. To correct matters, you have to let Joan Collins walk in front of a car even though you’re in love with her.)
The more complex the mind, the greater the need for the simplicity of play.
If you can keep your head in a crisis you’ve got a fighting chance.
The unknown is not to be feared. It is to be examined, understood and accepted.
Close friends become family and family is the true center of the universe.
End every episode with a smile.
And lastly, with time and patience you can even learn something from The Next Generation.

Everything you need to know is in there somewhere. It may be dressed in some real lame costume. But it’s there. Every situation you will face in life has already been faced by the crew of the Starship Enterprise NCC 1701. How to respond to challenge. How to treat your friends. How to pick up girls. How to get ahead on the job. How to run a business. How to bandage a wounded silicon-based life-form. Everything you need to know.

Woosh!

2006-08-23T12:18:00.000-07:00

We’re 16 days away from the show, and I still want to hear from you about how Star Trek has influenced your life. Send it to Amy Ulen as soon as possible. I would love to fill up next week with guest bloggers!

Blog #25 by Dr. Seth Shostak,
Senior Astronomer, SETI Institute

Sure, there were obvious mistakes in Star Trek, version 1.0. I mean, every time the Enterprise zipped by the camera en route to some far-off M-class planet, there was a nicely audible “whoosh.” Well, everyone over the age of five knows that in space, no one can hear you whoosh. But it was a necessary dramatic device. As a viewer, you expected to hear that sound (after all, how many of us, other than David Oreck, live in a vacuum?) It was akin to the sound-track convention of gun battles in the early western movies. One bullet in five would make a high-pitched, deeply satisfying ricochet sound: “piiinng.” Must have been a lot of sheet steel out there in the old west.

Then there was the Enterprise’s artificial gravity. It was always exactly 1G, as I’ve noted before. Convenient for actors and film crew, but kind of hard to explain on a ship that wasn’t slowly spinning. Who knows? Maybe the 23rd century had mastered synthetic gravity, just as they had mastered synthetic fabrics (all those stretchy uniforms… I kept hoping that one of the crew members would put on weight so I could see if they came to resemble the Michelin tire guy.)

And speaking of crew members, there must have been thousands of them hunkered down in the enormous bowels of the Enterprise. Mind you, we didn’t see many of them: just the occasional anonymous lackey harvested from what was surely a vast pool of underlings, to be beamed down to a planet as expendable (and always expended) bait for nasty aliens. But there was the larger question of what did all those people do? Swab the decks? There weren’t any decks (other than of the holo variety). Launder the stretch uniforms? Grease the phasers? Give Spock page boy haircuts? What?

Then again, Shakespeare wrote about the royal court of Denmark, and didn’t bother to give speaking lines to the few million Danes who were just farming beet roots outside the castle, so I suppose you’ve got to expect this.

Then there were the aliens who, no great surprise, were nearly always humanoid. Oh, sure, they had faces that sometimes suggesting they had shuffled genes with an insect, but these aliens sat in chairs, they had the usual number of grasping appendages, and they talked with their mouths. Now mind you, there is at least one evolutionary biologist who thinks it’s likely that a humanoid shape is the best design for a thinking creature, and therefore the extraterrestrials (if they exist) will look much like us. But his is a singular view. After all, not many terrestrials look like us (the exceptions all eat bananas). And truly advanced intelligence might not be biological at all – more like the Borg without the lovely, chief Borgette. But Gene Roddenberry, according to my barely reliable sources, always insisted on being able to see the eyes of the aliens. So, perforce, they had to have eyes (and more than one). If the aliens looked like Linotype machines, it would be hard to gauge their mood, or decipher what they were up to.

And finally, the biggest mystery of all. No, I’m not talking about Jean-Luc Picard, who took over the helm from Kirk. I mean, this drama takes place in the deep future, when interstellar travel is a lark, virtual reality is a… reality, and beaming folks around is a legitimate transport option. And yet they still haven’t managed to cure male pattern baldness. But no, that isn’t the greatest mystery of all. The greatest mystery is… in a world where technology has reached stratospheric heights, when matter-antimatter drive is prosaic, when tricorders can tell you the biological state of an entire planet, and when lasers, masers, and phasers are all kiddie toys… When all of this is true, the automatic doors to the bridge of the Enterprise still make noise when someone walks in!

I think the sound effects man had a whoosh fetish.

The Making of Star Trek

2006-08-22T21:22:00.000-07:00

Chris Comte (fan blogger for blog #18) recently submitted this excerpt from The Making Of Star Trek, which was published at the beginning of TOS's final season. This could have been written a couple of years ago when people were fighting to save Enterprise! Whitfield had it right in 1968, and his words ring true today…"We have [Star Trek’s] legacy . . . all we have to do is use it."

Blog #24 excerpted from The Making Of Star Trek
by Stephen E. Whitfield & Gene Roddenberry,
New York, Ballantine Books, 1968, pp. 400-402

Taken from the chapter
“Whither Star Trek?”

AN INTERESTING ASPECT OF THIS WHOLE THING, THOUGH IS…THIS CRAZY NEW GROUP THAT CAME IN…AND DID NOTHING BY THE RULES…WAS THE FIRST SUCCESSFUL SHOW THAT DESILU HAD HAD IN YEARS. THERE WAS STAGNATION, BUT WE CAME IN AND MADE IT WORK AGAIN…WE BROUGHT TURMOIL, EXCITEMENT…AND BEST OF ALL…CHALLENGE.

Gene Roddenberry

The victory that had been so exultantly proclaimed by NBC’s March first announcement (of Star Trek’s renewal for the 1968-1969 season) quickly paled before the news of a change in time slot. Originally scheduled for Monday night viewing, Star Trek would now open its third season on Friday nights at 10:00 p.m. Many were they who gloomily predicted the end was at hand for the Voyages of the Starship Enterprise. The late night spot was considered certain death for the series. NBC’s commitment was for sixteen episodes, and most studio personnel held little hope for a mid-season pickup.

By then I was living in Hollywood (my company had transferred my office from Phoenix at the end of January) and was spending a fair amount of time at Paramount, trying to complete the design of the new Klingon space ship. I knew Roddenberry, most of the staff, and many of the crew quite well by then, and I felt like a member of the family. When your family suffers hurt, you suffer also. I had grown to know and feel as they did, and the openly acknowledged “inevitable fate” saddened me at least as much as it did them.

I thought a great deal about the unique group of people who were the driving force that had made Star Trek what it was. Gene Roddenberry, pure creative genius, sometimes serous, often full of laughter, always with his mental motor in overdrive. Bob Justman, a sharp, creative technician with a critical eye for flaws in script or film, forever twisting and twirling his handlebar mustache. Gregg Peters, one great big, friendly, hulking smile. Eddie Milkis, always instigating a put on – and always protesting innocently in the process. Dorothy Fontana, a real doll – and one heck of a fine writer. “Uncle” Matt Jeffries, smiling behind those silver rimmed glasses even when the situation was grim. Bill Theiss, who was wearing mod clothes before the term was invented. Penny, Rick, Sylvia, Dale McRoberts, the friendly guard at Paramount’s Gower Street entrance – Jerry, George, Fabian, Don – quite a group, quite a group.

As this is written, mid-season pickup is a long way off in the future. But just as Star Trek projects an optimistic future, so, too, does the staff and crew as they enter production for the first half of the third season. Despite the unknown ahead, they are determined to be tigers all the way.

The new producer, Fred Freiberger, is a “pro” with impressive credits from “Ben Casey”, “Slattery’s People,” and other top shows. He’s backed by Bob Justman as co-producer and both Milkis and Peters as associate producers.

Should Gene have pulled back, to confine his duties to administration and policy? He put in over a year on pilots, plus two more years in production. Perhaps as grueling a three years as any man in the history of television. When you see a man work night after night, without sleep, until white with fatigue, it’s hard to insist that he owes more of what few others give at all.

It is impossible to predict at this point what will ultimately be the outcome. If Star Trek does, in fact, come to an end next January, millions of viewers will mourn its passing.

Even so, the starship launched by Roddenberry and manned by an extraordinary crew will not depart the scene without leaving some ripples in its wake.

Star Trek has proved that it really does matter to the viewer what he sees on television. Contrary to what the networks may believe, people do care about television programming. And they do not at all mind learning while being entertained. Learning implies believing. Learning also implies intelligence – the ability to see relationships, in a Vulcan, a Gorn, or a Horta. The response to Star Trek’s message is irrefutable proof of the totally inaccurate network concept of the viewer as a clod.

But Star Trek has done far more than that. It has given us a legacy – a message – man can create a future worth living for . . . a future that is full of optimism, hope, excitement, and challenge. A future that proudly proclaims man’s ability to survive in peace and reach for the stars as his reward.

Whither Star Trek?

It really doesn’t matter. We have its legacy . . . all we have to do is use it.

Husband-Hunting on the Enterprise

2006-08-21T21:10:00.000-07:00

Can you believe we are only 18 days away from the big event? The Vegas convention is over, so now everyone can turn their eyes to Seattle! Although I must admit that I'm excited to read the convention reports on startrek.com. You must go check out the photos of Scott Bakula with long hair!

Those photos reminded me of a great comedy act Kris Smith delievered at conventions in the 90s that she is graciously letting me reprint here. When discussing her routine, Kris said, "I asked Carolyn's (Mrs. Kelley's) permission to 'lust' (comically) after her husband's alter ego before presenting the routine. I submitted the routine to her in advance. She giggled and laughed all the way through and then said, 'Go ahead, Kris! It's terrific.' So there was no reason for me to fear a phaser blast from the area of the auditorium where Mrs. DeForest Kelley sat. Quite a lady!"

Blog #23 by Kristine M Smith,
Author of DeForest Kelley: A Harvest of Memories

Husband-Hunting on the Enterprise
Stand-Up Comedy Routine Presented in Oakland, Denver and Baltimore in the 1990's
(© 1988-2006 by Kristine M. Smith)

I love being among Star Trek fans. It's better than being anywhere else -- on Earth. The only conceivably better place to be would be aboard the Starship Enterprise. I'd go find me a husband. And who would it be, out of all those eligible hunks?

Captain Kirk? Not on your life. He has a lady behind every bulkhead. I'd always be wondering why he wasn't home yet. I mean, it's his JOB, isn't it -- up here, running this ship? No! His job is down on the planet, with the most beautiful woman in the galaxy! He has never landed on an ugly woman planet yet! He gets one in his sights and says, "No way! Prime Directive! No interference! Beam us outta here!"

Mr. Spock? Unlike Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock is only "in the mood" once every seven years! And then it is not exactly moonlight and roses! Can you imagine living with a man who will tell you for nearly a decade running, "Not tonight dear... I have -- other priorities." A human woman would go stark raving MAD living under those conditions! "Check back in 3.7 years." And what about Vulcan foreplay? (Show the mutual rubbing of two fingers.) I waited seven years for this?!

Mr. Sulu? Cute little devil, isn't he? But he has a tendency to want to play Lancelot at unpredictable intervals and when he isn't doing that, he's jogging, or doing karate, or cutting up in botany... And I don't know how long I could take that crazy laugh!

Mr. Chekov? Vell, he vouldn't be bad -- but your kids would all talk funny... and if you ever said or did anything to anger or upset him, you could be deafened -- or given cardiac arrest -- by that blood-curdling scream of his! I'd have to give him a ten for his Gleem smile, though...

Scotty? Aye, Scotty's a darlin' of a man, isn't he? But he has a bit of a self-image problem. He's forever telling the Captain he cannot possibly do what needs to be done in the time they have left to save the ship from imminent and total destruction. You'd be up half of every night giving HIM self-esteem lessons!

Well..... I guess you know who I'm after. Uh-huh.... Ol' Blue Eyes. Leonard H. McCoy. The H stands for Hallmark, because Starfleet cared enough to send the very best. Now, I may be prejudiced, but McCoy is charming, gallant, a gentleman... and his ethics are beyond refute... plus the fact that he has a nice little tush and the sexiest lower lip in the galaxy. I realize these last items are non-essentials, but they do add up!

So, if I was beaming aboard the Enterprise hoping to find somebody's boots under MY bed, they'd have to be McCoy's. Just imagine it: free medical check-ups as many times a week as you wanted them! Be still, my heart!

Since I am so crazy about McCoy, I have a major gripe with the writers of Star Trek. They gave Kirk about every eligible female that came along. And the celibate, cerebral Mr. Spock had somebody who wanted him every time he turned around. Unless he was approaching ponn farr, he'd react like: "I presume she TYPES, or does something useful?" Poor Chris Chapel: She was so gone over Spock, I'm amazed she didn't jump off a bridge railing and kill herself. Spock would have looked up from his console and gone, "Unfortunate..."

But McCoy... now here was a decent, good-looking man with normal "needs," shall we say? -- unattached -- who would probably have requited the unrequited and left the rest to Kirk. He was gentle, ethical, charming, and what did he get? ZIP! ZILCH! Oh, right... he did get Natira. Now, when that show came on, I thought we finally had something. But how come the writers only give him a girl when he can't sit up? He has xenopolycethemia in this one, and in "The Empath" he's all beat up the moment that you know Gem is crazy about him. I'm not making this up! Think about it! In "Shore Leave," instead of getting the girl, he gets a lance through the gizzard! In "Friday's Child" -- you know, the one where Eleyan decides that only MAC COY can touch her? -- she names her baby after him eventually, too -- but not before she spatters him with a rock, laying him out cold! And in the most recent example, The Search for Spock, McCoy goes into a bar and asks the waitress, “Anybody been lookin’ for me?” and the waitress says, “I have, but what’s the use?” WHAM! Within two minutes he’s flat on his back in detention! I tell ya, I don't know what the writers have against McCoy and women, but it's detrimental to his physical and emotional well-being!

Anyway, back to my gripe about the Natira story. He finally gets this beautiful woman, and I'm thinking, "AWRIGHT!" They get married. They exchange these lovely vows. I'm dabbing at my eyes and thinking, "Oh, how perfect. At long last, LOVE! At long last, HONEYMOON!"

But is Natira thinking “honeymoon” with this handsome devil she’s been kissing since she got her first chance? NO! Natira wants to show him The Book! I’m standing there and I’m screaming at her, “Wake up and smell the coffee! You have a great evening in the offing and you want to talk about a BOOK you haven’t even READ yet?!” I mean, where are this woman's priorities. This is HONEYMOON NIGHT, lady, Prime Time With Your Man! And McCoy seems just as happy to discuss the damned book as SHE is. He has 365 days before he kicks off, right? So what’s the rush?

Well, then I got mad at the writers again. I thought, "Who WROTE this blasted thing?!" Someone with hormones well in check, I can tell you that much! If it had been ME, it would have been called, "GEE, JUMPIN' BONES"! And it would have had a happier ending... and a sequel... and a spin-off...

Of course in those days Star Trek couldn’t get away with what television gets away with in these days. But I have news: for my money, the sexiest guy on the ship has always been and always will be Dr. Leonard H McCoy! Even at age 137, he had something special to share. He knew the Secret, and he told Data the very first time he spoke to him. He was talking about the Enterprise, but all of us McCoy maidens knew exactly what he meant -- he did, too! -- when he told Data: “Treat her like a lady -- and she’ll always bring you home..."

If you haven't ordered DeForest Kelley: A Harvest of Memories, you're running out of time, so you may just want to call the Publisher's Toll Free Order Line: 1-888-280-7715. Kris will only have ten copies on hand after her presentation Friday afternoon.

Star Trek turned me into a rock star!

2006-08-20T19:34:00.000-07:00

Blog #22 by Amy Ulen,
English Teacher, Tumwater High School
I keep begging all of you to send in a story about how Star Trek has influenced your life, and the few I have received are amazing. Many of the blog articles to date are about profound issues and effects that Star Trek has had on peoples lives, so I’m going to lighten it up a bit and describe how Star Trek turned me into a rock star for a day and an instant celebrity at my school!

Excerpt from A Day on the Set: A Fan's Ultimate Star Trek
first printed on startrek.com April 29, 2004

My trek to the stars began with a radio contest on KZOK-FM in Seattle. The contest ran for three weeks with two finalists picked each week. Unfortunately, I didn’t hear about the contest until the second week, so I only had two shots at qualifying. My first attempt was a miserable failure when I tried calling in on my cell phone from school. Although I knew the answers to the trivia contest, I couldn’t get through the phone lines. I made a decision that morning that I was going to take the following Thursday morning off work so that I could use my landline at home to qualify. Wednesday night rolled around and I sat poised with a notepad and watched “Hatchery.” Four pages of notes later, I was ready for the contest. Again, I called and couldn’t get through. The question was “What was the Starfleet regulation that allowed Phlox to relieve Archer of command?” The answer was Regulation 104, Section C, but the line was busy. While I frantically hit redial, at least six callers gave the wrong answer. When I finally made it through, I had to wait for two more people to attempt the answer. I was in agony as one woman said “104, section…3,” and the next caller said “section 5.” Finally, my line was selected and I shouted the answer. At that moment, my incredible journey began.

Those of us who qualified had to submit a photo and brief essay to KZOK. My essay read, “As a high school English teacher, I have my students compose a list of 50 things they want to do, see, or accomplish before they die as a journal entry. I always share my list with the kids, and they laugh when they see ‘Be on an episode of Star Trek’ as one of my goals. They don’t believe that my goal is attainable therefore shouldn’t be on the list. I want to prove to them that as outrageous as a dream may seem, anything is possible! You can help me teach this valuable life lesson by voting for me.” After submitting my contest entries, I went to school and straight to my principal. As I was one of the last qualifiers, the final web voting was opening that afternoon. I told my principal all about the contest and asked him if I could make an announcement over the intercom. He agreed! As soon as voting opened, students all over the school logged on and voted for me. After being announced the winner the following morning, I instantly earned celebrity status at school. As I walked across the commons toward the Performing Arts Center to teach my acting classes, kids were hanging out the windows yelling their congratulations and that they had voted for me. Over a month later, the kids are still talking about it and eagerly anticipating the episode.

What I didn’t write about in the startrek.com article was the depth of student involvement in helping me win the contest and achieve my dream. After my principal made the initial announcement inviting students to vote for me in the contest, nearly every computer in the school was used for voting. The radio station used cookies so that each computer could only be used once, so by the time 4th period rolled around, the kids could no longer vote. As usual, the tech-savvy kids came up with the solution to erase the cookies so more kids could vote. I didn’t want to take the chance of being disqualified, so I told them to wait and vote at home. My kids did more than that…much more! They immediately started sending off e-mail, sending text messages, and calling everyone they knew to encourage them to vote for me. Their campaign was so successful, that I won by a landslide. Hundreds of votes separated me from the rest of the contestants, and I only had qualified that morning!

The following morning the school was abuzz with anticipation while we waited for the contest winner to be announced. At the appointed time, my 3rd period class and I paused our lesson to listen to the radio. As I stood in front of the room, a bundle of excited nerves, I looked at my students who were ALL giving the Vulcan salute! To this day—two years later—that moment still brings a tear to my eye. Those kids genuinely wanted me to achieve my dream. They didn’t get everyone they knew to vote for me so they could earn extra credit or some other form of personal gain, they gave from the goodness of their hearts, and I will always admire them for that. Even had I not won the contest, I considered myself blessed in that moment to be teaching such a fine group of human beings. Yet, I did win, and the room erupted with shouts of celebration. My lesson plan for the period was forgotten as the kids swarmed me with hugs and high-fives. Students from around the school ran to my room to let me know I won and the phone started ringing off the hook. It was an incredible moment that I will never forget.

Many of those same kids tuned in to Enterprise for the first time on May 26, 2004. They had heard all of the stories about my day on the set and wanted to see my television debut. Several of them became Star Trek fans that night, which gave us a lot to talk about when they were hanging out in my room after school. Most of the kids who voted for me that day graduated last year, but the freshmen will be seniors this year, and we are looking forward to exploring the world of Sci-Fi in my new English elective!

Star Trek has influenced my life in so many ways, but this experience encapsulated it all. Star Trek is about achieving impossible dreams. It is about using technology to seek out and enhance life. It is about community. Star Trek is about a room full of kids who will forever “live long and prosper” in my heart!

“Away Mission III: Klingonisch”—part 3

2006-08-19T21:37:00.000-07:00

Today is Gene Roddenberry's birthday, so after reading this final installment of “Klingonisch,” head over to startrek.com to read their tribute of the man that created “the show that changed the world”!

Blog #21 by Jeff Greenwald
Author of Future Perfect:
How Star Trek Conquered Planet Earth

Taken from the chapter
" Away Mission III: Klingonisch "

There’s an awards ceremony at twilight. The top Klingon officers assemble on a crude cement stage beneath a canopy of trees, dressed in thick regalia. The formalities are conducted under the glowering eye (and crustacean brow) of Toqduj Zantai JonwI: the fearsome Fleet Admiral of the entire Khemorex Klinzhai . Bats swoop around his ears, feasting on invisible gnats.

Ten warriors are called up in turn, and honored for outstanding service to the fleet. Finally, Q’Eltor himself is summoned. Along with a promotion to Lieutenant Commander, Ralf receives the Qet’lop’s coveted SuvwI’a’ award. “The literal translation,” taj’IH explains proudly, is, ‘That’s a warrior!’ ”

There is more drinking, more singing, and drinking again. When darkness falls, the warriors reconvene for a Klingon wedding. Qor-Zantai Haqtaj, Commanding Officer of the Dark Vengeance Fleet, will wed the half-Klingon, half-human B’Elanna Torres. The bride and groom look marvelous. Haqtaj struts among the picnic tables in his armadillo-like jacket, bedecked with medals and pins; B’Ellana (named for the half-Klingon engineer on Voyager) adjusts her headpiece, and applies dark makeup to her nose.

Though the ceremony won’t have the blessing of the Holy Church, it’s carried out in reverent Klingon style. Haqtaj literally battles his way to the altar. He’s a big man, and brooks no nonsense. Thick-suited warriors tumble over park benches (and each other) with loud shouts, their swords clanking into the dust. When the couple is finally united, taj’IH—the master of ceremonies for many of the evening’s events—presents them with small tokens: an amulet for her, a nose ring for him. They exchange vows and drink together from a silver chalice. Finally the bride and groom snarl at each other and share a savage kiss. Blood (or something close) flows down their chins. They exit the stage amid roars of congratulations.

By the time the ceremony ends, it’s bitterly cold outside. I join a pack of Klingons standing around the pit fire, singing battle songs and roasting marshmallows. RaH’el appears beside me, palming her dagger.

“The wedding was great,” I sigh.

“Yes.” She leers, fangs glinting in the firelight. “But the divorce will be better.”

An hour or so later, I find Supreme Admiral Toqduj Zantai JonwI—aka Andy Wilson—sitting alone on a picnic bench. I take a seat beside him. In his other life, Wilson is a rough-looking Scot, born in Paisley. A former cop, now a mechanic, he shows up at the Qet’lops “whenever I can afford it.”

Wilson first saw Klingons on TOS in 1966, when he was fifteen. “I’ve never been a Federation fan,” he sneers. “It’s like cowboys and Indians. I’ve always sided with the Indians—and Klingons are definitely the Indians.”

Wilson and his buddy, Stephen Donnelley, started the Khemorex Klinzhai (literally, the “Klingon spirit that grows”) in 1993. It was an act of treason: a mutiny from the U.S.-based Klingon Assault Group (KAG). Klingons in the U.K. and Europe cheered the move, shifting their allegiance to the local leaders. From its seed group of “ten Scottish guys,” the KK membership spread like wildfire. There are now more than 400 members throughout Europe.

“America-based fan clubs tend not to be a great idea for the U.K., or Europe in general,” Wilson tells me over a Styrofoam cup of wild prune juice, “because communications are difficult. Also, American Klingon groups tend to have a very short life span. They last a year, eighteen months at most, and then they fold. Compared to that, the Khemorex Klinzhai’s been going a very long time.”

There was probably another motive for the split as well. Personalities attracted to the Klingon mystique, obviously, prefer being in charge. It’s hard to blame them. Especially the Scots, whose great heroes have been in small, marauding bands rather than united armies.

“Scots are born warriors,” Wilson confirms, puffed up in his flamboyant uniform. “We’ve always been warriors. It’s in the bloodline. And if y’hear two Scots arguin’—why, it even sounds like Klingon!”

“Do you feel,” I ask, “like a Fleet Admiral?”

Wilson laughs, rolling a smoke. “When there are other Klingons about, yes.”

“Otherwise?”

“Otherwise I’m just Andy Wilson, mechanic.”

A pod of warriors walk by, saluting smartly. Wilson nods in response, and strikes a match with his thumbnail.

At 2 a.m., music is still blasting through the trees. The late-night anthem is Tek for Trek, a heavy metal CD produced by a band of musicians from Berlin. Everyone present knows the songs by heart, and their Klingonisch howls could rouse a rotted skunk.

I slink off into the medical tent and collapse onto one of the army surplus cots, shivering under a borrowed sleeping bag. The music pounds on through the night. When I wake at dawn, breath steaming, I see a Klingon asleep in the cot next to mine. His black leather tunic, metal sash and molded brow piece are covered with frost.

That’s a warrior.

"Away Mission III: Klingonisch"—part 2

2006-08-18T21:39:00.000-07:00

Blog #20 by Jeff Greenwald
Author of Future Perfect:
How Star Trek Conquered Planet Earth

Taken from the chapter
" Away Mission III: Klingonisch "

The Josef Haydn rolls south from Köln, hangs a right at Koblenz and swoops down the Mosel Valley, clinging to the river. The hillsides lie emerald green, candy-striped with grapevines. This is true rustic Germany: steeples everywhere, the houses severe as Mennonite barns.

A turn and a tunnel carry the train away from the Mosel, and we race among fields. Horses graze between white fences. The sun, intense but uncertain, shimmers behind a cirrostratus veil. Every kilometer brings us nearer to the Luxembourg border, another of Europe’s odd corners. Once a Roman stronghold, Trier marked the last of the Empire’s conquests on the continent.

The perfect location, I reflect, pulling my bags off at Trier, for a Klingon Qet’lop....

My instructions, delivered via e-mail from a Munich Internet jockey named Ralf Gebhart, are simple: Take a local bus to the edge of town, and walk toward the forest. Follow the signs to the Qet’lop.

The bus ride continues for nearly an hour, much of it spent grinding up streets so twisted and narrow there are mirrors on the corners. Past the homes and streets and hidden drives, the land bursts open into wet rolling countryside, fragrant with pine. A feral cat streaks across the road. There are other passengers on the bus.

The driver pulls over. There is a hydraulic hiss, and he thrusts his thumb toward the open door. He speaks no English; I, no German. I step off, hauling my bags, and he drives away. There isn’t a car in sight. A sign along the road says Auf wiedersehen, though I’ve had no sense of being anywhere for a good half hour.

I start walking.

Rain falls. I get wet. Voices filter down from the hills, but I see no humans. There are signs I can’t read. The road changes to gravel, then dirt; the wheels of my flight bag are sucked into the muck. Weak with irony, I recall Gene Roddenberry’s initial Star Trek sales pitch: a “Wagon Train to the stars.” It is difficult to convey how stupid I feel at this moment, wet hair hanging limply across my face, pants soaked, dragging 40 kilos of carry-on down a bad road toward a dubious encounter with a bunch of Worf wannabees....

I’m not an obsessive enough fan to know how many times the term Qet’lop has been mentioned on Star Trek. Part lodge meeting, part bacchanal, a Qet’lop is a sporadic festival at which the might of the Klingon fleet is celebrated. The European events are held twice yearly, in Spring and Fall, when cold weather makes the heavy Klingon costumes sensible. I first heard about this Qet’lop via the Internet, and spent many anxious e-sessions lobbying for permission to attend (hard-core Klingons are reluctant to allow journalists into their private functions). Last-minute clearance had arrived while I was in London, approved by one Admiral Qor-Zantai Haqtaj (don’t ask me how to pronounce it) and delivered by Ralf Gebhart.

An hour later, and still no sign of the event. I’ve given up hope of ever finding the party when I hear an extended crunching sound, and an American-made Jeep pulls up beside me. A freckled, earthy-looking blonde sits behind the wheel; there are saddles in the back. Christine—she introduces herself—understands English, and I convey my dilemma. She listens to my half-crazed description of an alien warrior picnic and seems to wrestle with her better judgment before motioning me in.

We follow the road another few miles. It turns toward a canyon, meets the anchorage of a collapsed bridge, and disintegrates into the tangled concrete of a construction site. I shudder, imagining my fate if I’d reached this place alone. But Christine shoots off along a spur, directly into the woods, and we spend the next ten minutes bouncing over rocks and logs.

We emerge, miraculously, at the entrance to what is apparently a regional park. A hand-lettered sign, drawn on a paper plate, points us toward the Qet’lop.

“Yes,” Christine observes, perplexed, “but how do we know when we....” Then she slows the jeep to a crawl, her jaw slack, as we approach an open area filled with tents. Banners with sinister lettering flap in the wind; the low sun glints off bat’telh swords.

Here, within a circle of trees, among picnic tables and barbecue pits, are the Klingons.
* * *“Jag mobogh puuuu’...! Jag mobogh puuuu’....! ”

The strangely familiar musical refrain pounds through the grove, blasting from an industrial-sized boom-box suspended between two trees. In a campsite at the foot of Germany’s Mosel Valley, eighty snarling warriors raise goblets of crimson “blood wine”—shots of colored vodka, each containing a writhing worm—and toast the glorious Klingon Empire. For the moment, all is laughter and fun; later, they will engage in contests of brute strength and eat broiled wienerschnitzel with their bare hands.

This is the third Qet’lop held in Germany thus far, drawing warriors from as far as Switzerland and Scotland. It’s a highly deconstructionist event: walking up the crude wooden steps leading to the picnic area, I pass a table loaded with make-up, glue and sewing kits. A man sits quietly on a bench, stitching a wig onto the latex headpiece that will transform him from an Austrian accountant into a warlord from Qo’noS, the Klingon home world.

He is the rule rather than the exception. Out of costume, few of the men or women attending this celebration would merit a second glance at an outdoor cafe. It’s amazing how the ridged brows and black lipstick, the spiked boots and fangs, lend these bankers, students and computer nerds a savage panache. Ralf Gebhart himself, a grunge beanpole in street clothes, spends nearly an hour squirming into a costume of leather and latex that transforms him completely. What was geeky becomes diabolical; his whole personality rises to the role. Ralf is dead and buried, and I find myself facing Q’Eltor, a Klingon lieutenant capable of eating live spiders.

The change is even more amazing in Astrid, Ralf’s American-born lover. Astrid is the first to admit her own plain appearance, and it’s tough to argue with her. But in full Klingon gear, with her small breasts pushed up in a tight leather teddy and her gnomic head expanded by a black wig and cartilaginous brow, she is a consort worthy of a warrior.

“What do I call you now?,” I ask.

“I’m taj’IH.”

“Can you spell that for me?”

She takes my notepad, supports it on my back and scrawls the odd hybrid of capped and lower-case letters. “In the Klingon language it means ‘beautiful knife.’”

I scan her hips for weapons. “Are knives a big part of this event?”

“No.” taj’IH shakes her head emphatically. “One of our strictest rules is, no live steel.”

“What’s ‘live’ mean?”

“Sharp enough to cut your throat.”

Astrid is an M.D., currently working as the director of an on-line medical service. Her family moved to Europe from New Jersey 22 years ago, when she was twelve. As taj’IH, she is Captain of a Munich-based “Bird of Prey” named quv’a’ (literally, “Honor”). The ship is part of the Khemorex Klinzhai: the European “Dark Vengeance Fleet” to which all these warriors belong. Its 400-plus members hail from England, Germany, Austria, Switzerland and Scotland. Taj’IH herself joined in 1994.

Taj’IH first met Q’Eltor in March of 1996. Ralf—a longtime fan just coming out as a Klingon—had been surfing the Web in search of kindred spirits, and found the Khemorex Klinzhai’s home page. A picture of Astrid, resplendent as the warrior Taj’IH, pulsed on the screen. Ralf spent the next two weeks tracking her down. The first few times they first went out, both wore full Klingon costume. Astrid barely recognized Ralf when she finally saw him as “his real self.”

She leans toward me, lowering her voice. “Wanna hear a Klingon joke?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. Why are Klingons born with ridged foreheads?”

I shake my head.

“Because Klingon pussies are so tight!”

We yuk it up. I inquire—with the barest hint of lechery—how her relationship with Q’Eltor gets on.

“In a normal way,” she replies testily. “We know who we are. Listen, I keep a healthy gulf between my civilian life and my Klingon existence. Though a great deal of my time is devoted to my ship....”

I ask taj’IH if she can shed some light on why the Klingon mystique is so appealing here in Germany.

“Absolutely,” she laughs. “Germans have a very anal, regimented existence. They’re stiff, they’re quiet, and they drink hard. This is a chance to break away. To enjoy a little anarchy. To...” A command, barked in fluent Klingon from the picnic table, draws her attention. She responds in kind, and turns back to me. “Gotta go,” she announces. “It’s time to stuff the Romulan.”

The dummy, an effigy of an alien race despised by all Klingons, figures prominently in the afternoon’s Decathlon. Befanged contestants chafe and stomp, waiting for the privilege of hurling the mannequin to the ends of the earth—a feat performed to the accompaniment of blood-curdling battle cries. That competition is followed by an “obs-tribble” course, in which merciless warriors walk a crooked line while balancing furry “Tribbles” on spoons. Next comes balloon slashing, accomplished with crescent-shaped bat’telh swords.

It’s a lot to absorb. I approach the bartender—by now a fond acquaintance—and order another bloodwine, straight up. Nem’Roc grins, reaching for the tweezers, but I grab his wrist: “Hold the worm.”

Just then the music starts again: Jag mobogh puuuu’...! , at volume ten. It’s so familiar, and yet.... “What is that song?” I demand.

“You don’t know?” Nem’Roc throws back his head and laughs. “It’s Born to Be Wild, translated into Klingon!”

Pork steaks broil above a barbecue pit; prune juice flows like wine. Along a groaning board loaded with Klingon and Terran delicacies, fourscore warriors heap their plates with stuffed to’baj legs, qagh, and mixed bean salad.

RaH’el Qvl’n cha’, the Klingon Defense Force Weapons Officer, stands beside me in line. She’s lithe, dark and savagely beautiful. Her jet-black hair ripples like Nefertiti’s. The look fits; by day she’s an Egyptologist, employed by the University of Bonn.

“Your nameplate isn’t bilingual,” I notice. “Only Klingon.”

She shrugs. “I forget the German names anyway.”

“Are you fluent in Klingon?”

“I love the language. There are so many similarities between Klingon and Egyptian. For example....” She spoons what looks like fresh placenta onto her plate. “This—‘Rokeg blood pie’—is a famous Klingon dish. In Egyptian, rokeg is also a kind of pie, made with meat and vegetables.”

“Sounds like you’re leading two parallel lives.”

“I try to.” She smiles, her teeth a gleaming ripsaw blade. “The name RaH’el, for example, means, ‘to be violent’—and I am.” She grabs my arm and yanks me a few steps away from the feeding masses. “I’m addicted to weapons.” She lifts her leather tunic, displaying the Klingon d’k tahg against her skin. The ritual dagger is a beautiful piece of work: well-balanced, razor sharp, and unquestionably lethal. So much for ‘no live steel....’

“Away Mission III: Klingonisch”—part 1

2006-08-17T21:28:00.000-07:00

So, I was checking out the announcements on Planet Xpo’s Star Trek 40th Anniversary Gala Celebration & Conference page and was saddened to see that Jason Alexander had to cancel due to jury duty. It really is too bad, but they also added some great guests to an already incredible lineup. As I scrolled through the rest of the page, I was reminded that we are going to see the Klingon band, Stovokor, on Friday at the Space Needle. Now, I’m into heavy metal bands like Iron Maiden, but I’ve never been a fan of death metal; yet, I have a feeling these guys put on an entertaining live show! You can check out some of their songs on MySpace and purevolume. To get us in a Klingon state of mind, I’m going to share some more excerpts from Jeff Greenwald’s Future Perfect: How Star Trek Conquered Planet Earth over the next few days.

By early next week I’m going to need more fan blogs, so send your story and photo to Amy Ulen as soon as possible.

Blog #19 by Jeff Greenwald
Author of Future Perfect:
How Star Trek Conquered Planet Earth

Taken from the chapter
" Away Mission III: Klingonisch "

…I flew into Düsseldorf and was met at the airport by Torsten Frantz, a tanky, 26-year-old computer scientist from nearby Dortmund. Frantz organizes the town’s monthly Star Trek dinners. Described by Frantz as a “non-organized culture,” the dinners are endemic in Germany. More than a hundred of them happen each month, in cities and villages across the German Democratic Republic.

My original plan had been to join Frantz and about sixty of his buddies for their Friday night gathering. Since then, I’d been invited to attend a bi-annual Klingon feast—a weekend-long Qet’lop—in the forests near Trier. My visit to Dortmund, I confess to my host, will be a short one.

With sun-starved skin, floppy blond hair and wire-rimmed glasses as wide as TV screens, Frantz is a certified member of Neogeeks Anonymous. Smart and serious, he bends over backwards to make my stopover productive. Our program begins with a lunch visit to Gaststaette Wuestefeld, the restaurant where the Dortmund dinners are held. Frantz proudly shows me the custom menus printed for the monthly events. A disclaimer appears on the bottom of the last page:

Dishes are served in the Klingon manner if the waiter is asked to do so—but you’ll have to look for a location far away from the other guests.

Among the incomprehensible menu selections, Frantz recommends the Uhura-schnitzel. It tastes a bit like chicken.
* * *Star Trek was post-war Germany’s first real introduction to sci-fi. Frantz doesn’t count Shuttle Orion, a home-grown program from the early 1960’s: “It had such a small budget that electric razors, radio microphones and irons were used as props.”

Before the mid-80s, he explains, science fiction was considered entertainment for children. “Star Trek first appeared here in 1974, but you would not have recognized it. The censors of the German Public Network cut out the violence and changed the dialogue, smoothing whole episodes to make them suitable for kids.”

German morality, along with humiliating memories of the Holocaust, gave the censors plenty to do. They nipped away at the racey American import, shortening some episodes by as much as ten minutes. They wrote fresh, wholesome dialogue and dubbed it in wherever sexual innuendo might intrude. There is a famous episode called “Amok Time,” Torsten reminds me, in which Spock goes into “heat” and must fight Captain Kirk to the death. The dialogue was rewritten to make it sound as if the Vulcan merely falls ill, and has a series of amusing dreams. Another episode—”Patterns of Force,” in which Spock and Kirk visit a planet knuckled under a Nazi-like dictatorship—was banned for many years, and aired for the first time in 1996.

To illustrate this butchery, Frantz hands me a typewritten translation of the Star Trek teaser, as recited on German TV:

Space. An infinite area.
We write the year 2200.
These are the adventures of the spaceship Enterprise,
which, with its 400-man crew
is five years long underway, in order to explore new worlds,
new life, and new civilizations.
Many light-years distant from the Earth,
the Enterprise forges ahead into galaxies which no man has seen before.

“Pure nonsense,” Frantz grunts. “Four hundred men? And it takes the Enterprise years just to cross this galaxy!”

In 1985 the first Star Trek movies—and unexpurgated video tapes of the original TV shows—made it across the Rhine. Episodes of The Next Generation began airing on private channels in 1989, though hardcore fans were already trading bootleg videos from the U.S. and England. The fan club dinners started in southern Germany 1981, many years before Frantz got involved. “So there were already lots of fans in Germany,” he said, “even before TNG.”

That evening we visit Frantz’s friend Andreas, a gangly, gregarious Trekker with a huge beer cooler bolted into a corner of his living room. He shows me his bedroom. The walls are papered with photographs of Rosalind Chao—the obscure actress who plays Keiko O’Brien, wife of the chief engineer, on Deep Space Nine. A satisfied feeling envelops me as I behold this shrine: I am in the presence of true obsession.

Surrounded by a dozen bags of potato chips and enough beer to fill Picard’s aquarium, I flop onto an overstuffed couch to watch the Friday night, prime-time broadcast of Voyager.

“I don’t know if I have the courage to show you the German treatment of Voyager.” Andreas hesitates apologetically, fiddling with the remote. “The voices have nothing in common with the American version....”

We watch it anyway, as well as a taped episode of Raumschiff Enterprise (i.e., The Next Generation) and the censored version of “Amok Time.” It’s the first time I’ve seen Star Trek in a foreign language. German works; the orders barked by Picard on the Bridge—especially during Red Alert—seem far snappier in deutch than in English, and the banter between Spock and McCoy has a sharper, more diabolical edge. Voyager is especially weird. Kate Mulgrew’s reedy elocution, problematic as it may be, is infinitely preferable to the voice of her dubbed replacement, who sounds like Olga of the SS.

My hosts bristle when I call the series an icon of American pop kultur. Star Trek is the cutting edge of a universal vision, Torsten explains; a mythos that owes no allegiance to borders or politics. It’s a template, a role model for an enlightenened contemporary lifestyle.

“It’s more than a hobby for me,” Andreas says. “It’s not exactly a religion, either but something in between. It shows me how to understand other cultures; how to solve my own problems in a way of peace, and not always with aggressive methods.”

My hosts agree that Star Trek has been an inspiration for Germany’s post-recovery generation. But they don’t see it as a blueprint for the human future in space. A myth spawned by the Apollo era—which ended when Torsten was an infant—need not compel its viewers toward cosmic journeys, any more than reading the Odyssey makes us want to cross the Aegean Sea on a raft. To Americans, Star Trek reflects a manifest destiny, a new space age to be finessed with American technology and know-how. For my German hosts, the focus is different: it’s the recipe for courage and resourcefulness quilted into each episode.

Late that night, while Torsten snores, I contemplate how Starfleet, with its Prime Directive and multi-racial crews, is the polar opposite of the Third Reich. Star Trek’s huge popularity in Germany reflects a generation’s complete rejection of the Aryan übermensch philosophy that led to World War Two. It is the irony of ironies that the first real flowering of rocket science occured during the same insane epoch—with the deadly technology of von Braun’s V2 rockets.

Be sure to check back tomorrow night for part two and meet some German Klingons!

Fan Blogger--Chris Comte from Seattle

2006-08-16T18:57:00.000-07:00

Here is our third fan blog all the way from…Seattle! Far or near or somewhere in between, I want to hear from you. Share your story about how Star Trek has influenced your life with like-minded fans by E-mailing it to Amy Ulen. Please include a photo if you have one.

Chris writes that he has performed in theatre, film and television productions throughout the Pacific Northwest for the past 20 years. He currently serves as the Membership Director for the Seattle Local of the American Federation of Television and Radio Artists, and as Seattle Liaison for Actors' Equity Association, in addition to serving in numerous volunteer positions in the Seattle performing arts community. He's been a space enthusiast as far back as Project Mercury (at least according to his father), and holds memberships in both the National Space Society and Planetary Society. Although a devoted fan of Star Trek from almost literally “day one,” he admits he hasn't attended a convention since 1978, when he was kicked out of an elevator by Harlan Ellison!

Blog #18 by Chris Comte
from Seattle, Washington

I can't recall with exact certainty the first time I saw an episode of Star Trek, but I'm pretty sure it was sometime during the first season. And I won't swear by it, but I think it's even likely I saw the very first episode when it premiered in September of 1966. The problem of course, is that memory is a strange and funny thing, and a child's memory in particular is subject to the influences of imagination and wistfulness, and so I won't make the claim outright.

All I know is, at the time, my dad, my two younger brothers, and myself were living in my grandparent's house in Portland, Oregon, where we had a color TV upstairs in what used to be (and was again temporarily) my father's bedroom, and on most nights we would crowd onto his bed to watch our favorite shows. At the time, one of our most favorite, Batman, aired on both Wednesday and Thursday nights, and so I'm fairly certain we would have been watching on September 8th when a brand new series called Star Trek had its network premiere.

My dad was something of a space buff in those days, and so anything having to do with rockets or outer space would have piqued his interest, not to mention my own. Having been born in 1960, I was raised as a child of "the space age": as my dad likes to tell it, he would prop me up on pillows or cradle me in his lap to watch the early Mercury blastoffs, and I can easily recall Walter Cronkite's sing-songy intonations as he narrated later Gemini launches. In later years, we collaborated on building a model of the Saturn V moon rocket, complete with a Cape Canaveral diorama, as a cub scout project, and I can still remember begging him to take me to a screening of Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey for my eighth birthday. The momentous events of July 20th 1969 have been indelibly etched into my memory, and it only takes a bit of concentration to call up the image of sitting on the floor in our living room, dad in the recliner behind me, as we stared slack-jawed and awestruck at the grainy black-and-white images of Neil Armstrong and "Buzz" Aldrin planting those first furtive steps on the surface of the moon.

So, on that September evening in 1966, I can't imagine my dad NOT granting us an extra half-hour grace period from our usual 9:00 p.m. "lights out," if there was a promising new science fiction show about to premiere on TV.

But, even if I can't exactly recall watching that first episode, I DO remember seeing subsequent programs during the original run of the series, and nearly four decades of seemingly continuous reviewing have only sharpened my appreciation for the show's considerable strengths: its truly ahead-of-its-time depiction of race, gender and class equality; its vision of hope and optimism for our future; its willingness to confront contemporary social, political, religious and philosophical themes - and to acknowledge its equally obvious weaknesses: the decided lack of budget, its occasional forays into campiness, and - especially, near the end of its three year run – the embarrassingly ridiculous plot lines.

Yet, over the years, those of us who have grown to love Star Trek, whether we saw the series in first-run or later in syndication, remember it as much for these all-too-human failings as for its stunning prescience. Who would have imagined, back in the age of the rotary-dial telephone and room-sized computers, that in our own lifetimes we'd all flip open our palm-sized cell phones, just like Captain Kirk did with his communicator every week, or that we would routinely use tiny memory cards, smaller even than the colorful chips that littered Mr. Spock's library console, in portable computers not much larger than his trusty tricorder? Sure, they didn't get EVERYTHING right. Luckily there's been no "World War III" - yet, and no shipload of cryogenically frozen "supermen" blasted off to the stars in the late 1990's, but when you consider how much of our present day reality the creators of Star Trek imagined back then, well, it truly is "fascinating."

But, more influential even than the series' depiction of futuristic gadgets and hardware, was its vision of what we as human beings could achieve, despite our limitations and biases. The future world of Star Trek was not one darkened by apocalyptic struggle, or nuclear annihilation, but instead was bright and hopeful, full of adventure, heroism, and yes, occasionally sacrifice and sadness. But a FUTURE nonetheless, where all people, and indeed all beings, had the opportunity to live in peace and harmony with each other, if they so desired; where conflict and struggle were obstacles to be overcome, and not ends in themselves; and where our ability to exceed our potential was limited only by the scope of our own imaginations.

When I was young, I wanted to become an astronaut - in part because I wanted to help create the future that Star Trek envisioned. Later, when my eyesight and math aptitude seemed to preclude that particular career path, I became an actor instead - because I hoped someday to have the chance to do something as good and memorable as Star Trek. Today, I'm still in "the industry", albeit not on the stage or in front of the cameras, but instead working to provide opportunities for performers to realize their own dreams and ambitions. As the Klingons say, "The honor is to serve," and I hope my service to my profession and to my community of fellow artists has allowed others to go where I have not. That's another thing I learned from Star Trek: no matter what you do, no matter how small your task is in the bigger scheme of things, do it well, because the success of everyone depends on the success of each of us. It's not just about "the needs of the one" versus "the needs of the many"; it’s about "the needs of all."

And so, for forty years, I, like so many others, have kept the vigil: watching the various incarnations and reimaginings of the series, both on TV and film; purchasing the books, novels, magazines, blueprints, patches, photo stills, models, props, videos, DVDs, and who-knows-what; going to the conventions; keeping alive the dream Gene Roddenberry and so many others gave us. Because, to those of us with the imagination to truly see, the creators of Star Trek gave us more than just a TV show; they gave us the gift of a glimpse into a future where the best qualities of humanity shone with the light of a thousand suns; where everyone has been granted the opportunity to make the best use of their native talents and acquired skills; where worth is truly defined by the content of ones character, and not by the color of ones skin, nor the God to whom one worships, nor the land in which they were born. It is a future that we can all today help to turn into a reality, if we just have the grace, the imagination, and the courage to "boldly go where no man (or woman) has gone before."

Let's go!

The Inner Light, The Outer Darkness

2006-08-15T21:34:00.000-07:00

I recently received an E-mail from my mom who was excited to inform me of the Christie's Star Trek auction and tour that would be coming to Seattle in September. I almost didn’t have the heart to tell her that I’ve known about it for three months! I did tell her about the press release on startrek.com and how I was most excited about the Ressikan Flute from "The Inner Light" that is estimated to go for $300-500. Through our E-mail exchange, she confessed that she wanted to buy me something but couldn’t figure out how the on-line bidding worked. She then said that if I could get the Ressikan Flute for $500, she would buy it for me! I thought that was such a sweet and generous offer, but I had to laugh, because I’m certain that prop is going to go for much more than estimated. "The Inner Light" is a fan favorite that continues to be a topic of discussion. I was reminded of William Kowinski’s incredible series of blog entries about that episode on the Soul of Star Trek earlier this summer. What follows is an excerpt from The Inner Light, The Outer Darkness, but you will want to visit his site to read the rest of this fantastic essay.

Blog #17 by William S. Kowinski
from Soul of Star Trek
(originally published Sunday, June 25, 2006)

excerpt from The Inner Light, The Outer Darkness
"Inside the Magic"

H.G. Wells explained how his science fiction stories worked: a plausible or at least fascinating “magic trick,” in a self-consistent world with recognizable characters. The science fiction in “The Inner Light” is a beam that causes a man to experience himself as someone else, and live more than thirty years of a life in less than a half hour in real time. This remarkable idea is both somewhat plausible (our science says that damage to the brain or electrical stimulation can alter a person’s perceptions and memories; chemicals can cause hallucinations) and intriguing, because we are all fascinated with dreams that seem to be real. We’re also especially fascinated with how we experience the passage of time, in dreams or in various circumstances in our waking life.

The “magic trick” works, Wells says, only if you don’t look too hard at it. In this case, we aren’t supposed to speculate on how a society that isn’t capable of interplanetary travel can create a device capable of projecting into an unknown being such a completely felt and experienced hallucination. Besides, in the context of a television series, we often accept any excuse to see a well-known character in an entirely different situation or life, caused by anything from fever-dreams to mirror universes.

A more serious problem would be if we didn’t believe that Picard could forget who he was, and become someone else so completely. But the careful writing and wonderful acting makes this magic trick successful---we believe it entirely. Not only was this one of Patrick Stewart’s best performances, but Margot Rose was perfect as Elise. She seldom gets the credit she deserves for the success of this episode.

In some ways, the episode harks back to the original series in its bounded simplicity. Though it is beautifully lit and photographed, and filled with scenic detail, the world we see could be physically contained on a theatre stage. There are a few rooms in a modest house, a backyard, and a town square a few yards or feet away. Except for one matte painting, that’s all we see of Ressik. So like many TOS episodes, this is more like a stage play than the usual outer space, hardware-driven science fiction.

In fact I remember being a bit bothered by this constrictedness, this seeming artificiality when it first aired. But its emotional power was always there, and the subtlety of its structure became more apparent on subsequent viewings. Like certain fables or myths, it is deft and economical in its storytelling.

As a story about Picard, it is fascinating to those who know about his past in the series, and now, to those who can see how this experience changed him, as seen in later episodes and films. The life Picard leads as Kamin is almost the opposite of his life as Picard. Instead of an explorer through space, he stays in one place, and his explorations are in time. Instead of a commander of many, with high technology at his command, he is a relatively powerless man living a modest life with very little technology. But the most important difference, of course, is that as he himself observes: Picard he had no wife or children, and felt his life could be complete without them. But as Kamin, he cannot imagine his life without his family, and the love of a partner.

That Picard experienced being a father and then a grandfather, stayed with him even after he returned to his real life. We see his longings for family recur in the feature film, “Star Trek:Generations.” There are specific echoes of Kamin’s observations in what Picard says in that film as well. When Picard learns of the death of his nephew, he mourns the loss of all the experiences the boy would have had in the same terms as Kamin mourns the lost future of his children and grandchild. And Kamin’s words to Meribor to “live now…Make now the most precious time. Now will never come again” are virtually repeated by Picard to Riker at the end of Generations.

There are echoes and references even before that, notably in the sixth season episode, “Lessons,” when Picard plays the Ressikan flute with a woman he allows himself to fall in love with, (creating a duet with her around the melody of Frere Jacques), perhaps looking for a relationship like the one he had experienced as Kamin. The realities of Starfleet and serving as officers together on a starship, however, proved too difficult to sustain that dream.

But in our time especially, more than a decade after this episode first aired, what seems most relevant about it is the situation of the planet Kataan, and Kamin/Picard’s response to it, which also involve the episode’s mysterious title: “The Inner Light.” What could it mean, and what could it mean for us now?

Fan Blogger--Kelley Fuller from Australia

2006-08-14T20:32:00.000-07:00

Here is our second fan blog all the way from New South Wales! First Iraq and now Australia, this is so great. Our next fan blogger is a little closer to home--Seattle--and will appear on Wednesday. It's not too late for you to share your story about how Star Trek has influenced your life. E-mail it to Amy Ulen along with a photo if you have one.

Kelley is an incredibly dedicated fan who is about to embark on an amazing month of Star Trek conventions! I can't wait to hear his stories and see his photos in Seattle.

Blog #16 by Kelley Fuller
from Batemans Bay, New South Wales

I think Star Trek has mostly influenced my life in the way I view relationships with other people.

One of the key themes found throughout the history of Star Trek is "what it means to be human." The endless examination of the "human condition" has indeed been repeatedly explored over the past 40 years in each and every Star Trek series (Data, T'Pol, Spock, Q). It is this very journey of discovery that has endeared millions of fans around the world for generations, and I can certainly be counted amongst them. I believe that this element combined with the brilliant "chemistry" found in each of the shows' casts is why Star Trek has become the success that it is today.

Star Trek has a way of permeating all areas of your life, regardless of age. I have grown up with Star Trek and actually find it difficult to imagine a future without it. Star Trek has always offered us a view of tomorrow that gives hope to people of all walks of life; regardless of race, colour, creed and religion. It certainly made me feel more optimistic about the destiny of mankind and our true potential as a species.

As a child, my attraction to Star Trek was more "action" orientated; it was a great adventure show. Plus I loved all the "cool"' spacecraft. I would spend countless hours engaged in making plastic models of the Enterprise, Klingon Bird of Prey, Defiant etc.; paying close attention to the many minute details of colour and finish.

Later on (and as one gets older) other issues in life take priority. The story itself becomes more important and I can remember many, many quite moving episodes, such as TNG's "Inner Light" and "Best of Both Worlds Parts I & II" or DS9's "What You Leave Behind" or VOY's "Unimatrix Zero Parts I & II." I'm sure everyone has their favourite Star Trek episode, but I think the ones that stay with us the longest are those that truly reach our hearts; that get us to jump up and cheer the Captain on to victory.

Star Trek has more than just influenced my life, it has become an integral part of it. It impacts on all facets of my day-to-day activities - work, play, friends, shopping, sport, movies, fashion, food and even personal relationships. What I mean by "personal relationships" is that I really couldn't imagine settling down with a person that didn't love their Star Trek as much as I do; to which the phrase has often been coined, "love me, love my Star Trek"...that one's for you, Rachelle. It is honourable to be Klingon or a Starfleet Officer. Concepts of integrity, honesty, compassion and loyalty or corner-stones of the Star Trek universe. The show dared to suggest that all these things are worthy of pursuit; that it's okay to be kind towards other people without being labeled "weak." The essentials of my life now include a regular dose of Trek and it matters not which series the dose comes from.

2006 marks the 40th Anniversary of Star Trek and it is most fitting that this milestone be celebrated around the world with the biggest and best conventions anyone has ever seen. I consider myself privileged to be able to attend the 5th Annual Star Trek Convention in Las Vegas, NV, from August 17-20. Thanks to Creation Entertainment, this event will play host to an unprecedented lineup of Star Trek legends and could arguably be considered the highlight of the year's celebrations. Like a "kid in a candy shop," I'm going to be basking in the light of the "stars." I've made sure to secure the best seats and access to as many parties/dinners as possible, so as to get the most out of the experience.

Not wanting the dream to end, I will then be flying to Toronto for the Fan Expo Canada 2006 (September 1-3), which will feature both William Shatner & Leonard Nimoy, among many other guest stars.

Still not wanting the dream to end, I'm then off to Seattle, WA, for another great Star Trek convention. This time courtesy of Planet Xpo and the Science Fiction Museum, the Star Trek 40th Anniversary Gala Celebration and Conference will take place September 8-10. 2006 will certainly be a year to remember.

Can anyone honestly say that the world would be better off without Star Trek?

More Amusing Musing by Dr. Shostak

2006-08-13T14:07:00.000-07:00

Dr. Seth Shostak, author of our 1st blog entry, is back with another humorous look at Star Trek. I’m really looking forward to hearing his presentations in Seattle…only 26 more days!

You realize that means we only have 25 more blog entries to go; that doesn’t give you much time to get your story to me. I’m anxious to hear about how Star Trek has influenced your life. Your story doesn’t have to be long or overly profound (e.g. I’m going to write about how Star Trek turned me into a rock star for a day!), it just needs to be e-mailed to Amy Ulen as soon as possible.

Blog #15 by Dr. Seth Shostak,
Senior Astronomer, SETI Institute

Even in the early days of Star Trek, it was pretty obvious that this show wasn’t really about space. The level of the astronomy in the show was lower than a Mississippi gambler, and the number of trustworthy insights you might garner about life in space was always minimal. The show wasn’t nearly so much about space as it was about exploring the ‘hood and meeting strange strangers: Star Trek was The Argonauts, decked out in Lycra.

Roddenberry’s creation struck me as a futuristic version of Captain Cook’s exploits; a random walk through the galaxy looking for new forms of sentient life to either befriend or incinerate. You may recall that Cook was commissioned by the British Admiralty to reconnoiter blank spots on the globe. Similarly, the Enterprise was in the service of some governmental uber-organization: the "Federation," and was charged with boldly going into the Milky Way’s vast wilderness, seeking out our brainy brethren.

The ill-defined Federation sounded slightly ominous to me, but I decided it was OK, despite policies that were a bit naïve. Consider the “prime directive” – how many explorers have ever, EVER adhered to a principle that stipulates you should not interfere with someone else’s society? Even Captain Cook, who was better at benevolence than most, inadvertently mangled the culture of the islands he visited. He did this as soon as he sailed into their lagoons, simply because he had such things as cannon, the wheel, steel implements, and a big ship with a compass. The locals quickly figured that whatever mojo these Europeans had was better than theirs, and the islands’ ancient cultures were devalued in a flash. It’s hard to believe that the Enterprise wouldn’t wreak the same sort of laming, or be victim to it. The prime directive was bonkers.

Like many others, I was intrigued by Star Trek’s nifty technology. The holodeck seemed implausible, but getting beamed down to a planet (or back up) was positively miraculous. How the heck did this work? Clearly, you couldn’t just send the information about how Spock or Kirk were put together and then build a new model on the landscape below. If this were how beaming worked, then why not send the Captain’s data a few hundred times, producing crowds of Kirks? To avoid this awkward situation, it seemed necessary that the beaming hardware had to send the actual atoms or molecules. Of course, beaming such particles down to an alien world would run into problems as soon as the beam hit the planet’s atmosphere. The reassembled crew members would probably be no more than flat mounds of goo.

While it was hard to imagine how beaming could operate, there were plenty of other implausibilities that were amenable to simple fixes. With the arrogance typical of most grad students, I reckoned that Gene Roddenberry could use my help. I wrote him a letter suggesting that, if he would pay my bus fare to Burbank once every two weeks (about three dollars, round-trip), I would mark up the scripts, fixing the bad science without touching the story lines. Sure, 99 percent of the audience didn’t care about the funky technical errors, but the other 1 percent might make a lot of noise. I figured my offer was admirably reasonable.

Roddenberry wrote back (in those days, Star Trek hadn’t yet become a national institution). I recall opening that letter while my roommate, Valdar, looked over my shoulder. It was a big moment. Roddenberry essentially said “thanks, but no thanks.” He said that the scripts were already being reviewed by the Rand Corporation.

“The Rand Corporation?” Valdar mused.

“Isn’t that a think tank over in Santa Monica that analyzes the possibilities of nuclear war?” I replied.

“Yes, it is,” Valdar said. “But given the level of scientific rigor enforced on this show, maybe we should build a bomb shelter.”

Eventually, of course, Star Trek got full-time technical consulting, and now there’s a lot more science and a lot more of it makes sense. But I still want to know how to beam someone down to a planet without turning them into quivering crud.

A Closer Look at Deep Space 1

2006-08-12T14:59:00.000-07:00

There are myriad reasons why I love Saturday mornings, but one of my favorites is the Star Trek marathon on G4. There is just something comforting about sleeping in a bit and then waking up to 9 hours of TOS! So, I was watching “The Changeling” this morning and was inspired to revisit one of the Deep Space 1 Mission Logs for today’s blog entry. Dr. Marc Rayman was the chief mission engineer and deputy mission manager who kept the world informed of Deep Space 1’s progress through his mission updates.

Blog #14 by Dr. Marc Rayman
Deep Space 1 Mission Update
Originally posted May 23, 1999

Thank you for visiting the Deep Space 1 mission status information site, the most respected site in the Milky Way galaxy and among the most envied logs elsewhere in the local group of galaxies for information on this technology validation mission. This message was logged in at 12:30 pm PDT on Sunday, May 23.

The mission of Deep Space 1 continues to go extremely well. The spacecraft spent part of this past week under control of an artificial intelligence system on board that is one of the advanced technologies being tested. The testing of the remote agent accomplished 100% of the planned objectives.

In contrast to remote control, remote agent consists of a sophisticated set of computer programs that acts as an agent of the operations team on board the remote spacecraft. Rather than have humans do the detailed planning necessary to carry out desired tasks, remote agent formulates its own plans, using high level goals provided by the operations team. Remote agent devises its plan by combining those goals with its detailed knowledge of both the condition of the spacecraft and principles of how to operate it. It then executes that plan, constantly monitoring its progress. If problems develop, remote agent in many cases fixes them or works around them. If it cannot, it can request help from its sentient terrestrial collaborators.

As all dedicated readers of these logs know, on Monday and Tuesday, remote agent made its debut by formulating a plan and then executing it. When it encountered a simulated failure, a surprise challenge presented to it by the operations team, it successfully overcame it. On Tuesday, a bug in the complex software was discovered that prevented remote agent from completing the test. The flaw in the software never manifested itself during the extensive ground test program, and the successful identification and diagnosis of the bug was an important illustration of the value of testing an advanced technology on a flying spacecraft.

The bug is easily correctable for the future, but there was insufficient time to fix it and continue the tests during the window for the remote agent experiment. But once we knew about it, analysis showed that the risk of it interfering with a new test was acceptable. Taking advantage of the ease of generating a new set of goals for remote agent, the team conducted another experiment on Friday that captured all the remaining objectives for the testing of the remote agent architecture. In that experiment, remote agent was faced with 3 more (simulated) failures, each requiring a different kind of response. When it detected that an electronics unit had failed, it fixed it by reactivating it. Then a sensor failed, and remote agent correctly recognized the problem was with the sensor, not the device it was sensing. This pair of problems is akin to finding that the engine warning light has come on in your car. The light can mean one of two things: either the engine has a problem or the light has a problem. In each case, remote agent correctly distinguished which situation it was in. The last gift from the operations team was one of the small thrusters, used to control the spacecraft's orientation, being stuck closed. Remote agent correctly responded by switching to an alternate spacecraft control mode that did not depend upon the useless thruster. Remote agent accomplished other tasks during the experiment as well.

The only planned activity not conducted in the second experiment was thrusting with the ion propulsion system. The ion propulsion system behaved correctly, but software supporting the remote agent experiment apparently did not deliver confirmation to remote agent that one of its prestart commands to the ion propulsion system was executed. Therefore remote agent proceeded with the rest of its plan and correctly avoided further commanding of the ion propulsion system. The cause of the missed confirmation is under investigation, but because remote agent successfully activated the ion propulsion system earlier in the week, Friday's thrusting was not necessary for completing test objectives. The investigation has already shown that this will not affect future ion propulsion system thrusting.

With the successful achievement of all the desired testing, the experiment completed amid many references to HAL 9000 and to Star Trek.

The remote agent is the result of the work of experts at NASA's Ames Research Center and JPL, with important contributions from Carnegie-Mellon University and the Daystrom Institute. Its productive testing on DS1, as with that of the other advanced technologies, not only helps certify the technology for use on future missions, but it also gives the developers valuable experience in how things are done on an operational spacecraft, which is very different from working in a laboratory.

This weekend another calibration of the infrared system in the miniature camera/imaging spectrometer is being conducted. More technology experiments are scheduled for this coming week, but DS1 has completed the vast majority of the testing it set out to do. Still, more adventures lie ahead for the craft. When you've finished celebrating the Memorial Day weekend, be sure to check your planet's favorite mission log for an update on this week's activities and news about what is planned.

As a hint, the spacecraft continues on course for a July 29 interception of an asteroid with the powerful yet modest name 1992 KD. The daring encounter, while not a critical part of the mission, will allow a very challenging final test of a portion of DS1's autonomous navigation system. In addition, the event offers the bonus opportunity to return exciting scientific data using the two advanced science instruments DS1 has tested. JPL and The Planetary Society are conducting a contest to select a better name, if that's even conceivable, for 1992 KD.

Deep Space 1 is now nearly 85% as far as the Sun and almost 330 times farther than the moon. At this distance of 126 million kilometers, or more than 78 million miles, radio signals, traveling at the universal limit of the speed of light, take 14 minutes to make the round trip.

Thanks again for logging in.

Our MC shares his Fan Dreams & Realities!

2006-08-11T13:15:00.000-07:00

I’ve been receiving some great fan entries and will feature them as guest bloggers next week. Join in the fun by sending your story and photo to Amy Ulen. You will also hear from some of the conference organizers, and today’s blog kicks it off by highlighting the conference Master of Ceremonies, Marc B. Lee!

Blog #13 by Marc B. Lee,
Master of Ceremonies, ST40

“Fannish Dreams, Fannish Realities”

Ever experience quiet time. That time that causes you to fend off all distraction, all levels of interruption that may take you away from the dream you are experiencing at the moment. You may have projected your psyche into another realm, a world of wonderment and adventure, of heroism and protection. You may be experiencing your life as a Starfleet doctor, a pointy eared alien guy or a swashbuckling Japanese madman. Ever experience that?

My first introduction into STAR TREK fandom was with a group formerly known as OCTOBERTREK and currently named FARPOINT. I had never attended a convention before and was a fan of watching Trek on the tube. My curiosity took me to the Hunt Valley Marriot outside of Baltimore, Maryland, for a weekend of fun only to gain more than I was expecting. From that point on, my friendship with that group had flourished but my addiction to Trek was just beginning.

Attending the 20th Anniversary Star Trek Convention in Boston and hosted by the Boston Star Trek Association gained me another set of marvelous friends and was the first time I had actually became a “helper” at a ST convention. My assignment was to be a personal escort for George Takei. When I was told that would be my job for the weekend, I innocently asked “Who the hell is George Takei?” You see, I loved the series but knew squat about the actors, not to mention their real names. If they had told me I would be working with Sulu, then that would have stirred my brain cells a bit more and I would have reacted accordingly. “So his name is George Takei, eh? OK.”

I’ve held numerous hosting jobs since then, mainly in the form of an MC or Auctioneer, and have been regularly associated with the conventions like FEDCON and RINGCON in Germany (two of the best), FARPOINT, as mentioned before, and a West Coast charity event hosted by Lightspeed Fine Arts just to name a few. Spending quality time with The Great Bird himself and almost ever Trek actor you could name, has left me with a bit of humility I try to spread on a daily basis. Practicing my “hobby” has always made me feel that people are due every bit of enjoyment their money has paid for and I felt obligated to enrich that a bit with my onstage antics. Thus my association with Sky Conway and his last event “BEAM ME UP SCOTTY”, which has brought me to host this upcoming event. An interesting road down that 20 year Trek through fandom.

There is no other genre in modern day society that brings forward a crusading group of adamant appreciators like the fans of a 3 season long series called Star Trek. Not only are they a voice to be reckoned with, but an economical entity originally recognized by the studio that has profited tremendously over that 40 year long span. Trek fans are iconic, recognizable in all forms of media around the world. We’ve spawned new words and phrases (klingon, beam me up) and have solidified those impressions in the minds of generations from now till then. Trek Fans come in all shapes, sizes, educational levels, economical ladders and IDIC ideology. We’ve been scrutinized, teased at, pointed at, laughed at, confused with and misunderstood all in the same way we have been praised for, celebrated, congratulated, respected and invited to show the world things that could have only been realized with the help of the Star Trek Universe.

The Show That Changed The World will be honored on September 8th at an event that will prove to you we rock! All those finger-pointers out there, the ones that now know of the Bill Gates and the Paul Allens and the Neil Armstrongs, had dismissed all that had been said about us, because we gave you something that has definitely defined you, in today’s society, in today’s world.

Thank you for your time and see you in Seattle.

"The Forty-Year Trek" by George Takei

2006-08-10T21:34:00.000-07:00

Blog #12 by George Takei
Courtesy of Georgetakei.com

"The Forty-Year Trek"
(originally posted March, 2006)

It is hard to believe, but in September 2006, Star Trek will be 40 years old. Most of the fans of the show are younger than Star Trek. In fact, many were born after we were cancelled in 1969. That was the year that Astronaut Neil Armstrong became the first man to walk on the moon. I remember thinking we, the actors who played the characters on Star Trek, were "beaming down" onto planets three years before that. Armstrong's moon landing looked so bulky and old fashioned. We were so much more futuristic. On Star Trek, we talked to each other on our "communicators" as we walked around the corridors of our Starship Enterprise. That was amazing science fiction - then. Now, it is a commonplace reality. We talk on our cell phones as we walk down the sidewalk. What was once eye-opening science fiction has now become reality. Today, Blackberry isn't just a fruit; Spam isn't just canned pork; I-pod isn't the husk of some exotic vegetation. They are just a part of the vocabulary of our everyday techno-world. Increasingly, the 23rd century envisioned by the creator of Star Trek, Gene Roddenberry, is becoming the recognizable society of our times. So much has happened to change the world since that September night in 1966 when Star Trek, with its shiningly optimistic view of the future, made its debut on our television screens. America was so different forty years ago.

I remember the horror of a fiery night in August when the south central area of my hometown exploded in angry rioting. Years of racial injustice and despair suffered by African Americans ignited the southern skies of my beloved Los Angeles in black smoke and enraged flames. While the fires of race riots were breaking out in many other major American cities across our country, internationally we were frozen in the coldest of cold wars with another great world power, the Soviet Union. We lived in fear of a red button being pressed by either the President of the United States or the Premier of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics that could end civilization as we knew it. It was to that society of racial strife and global tension that Star Trek brought an idealistic picture of a starship in space with a crew made up of the many peoples of the known universe working as a team, "boldly going where no one had gone before." Of course, that was science fiction - then. Today, we have in fact a craft in space called the International Space Station with a crew made up of people of many races, citizens of many nations and - of all things - Americans and Russians working together in concert. Today, we have an African American woman serving as the Secretary of State of the United States. An African American man preceded her. There are two Asian Americans currently serving as Cabinet Secretaries. These are phenomena hoped for but quite implausible just forty years ago. So much has changed in forty years.

Those changes didn't just happen. They were the results of bold initiatives taken by venturesome people. Whether in the arena of politics, or the research laboratories and test chambers of the sciences, or the marketplace of entrepreneurs, or the streets of our cities by social activists, changes happened because of the energies, ideas, and imagination of dedicated people - optimistic people with a vision of a better society.

There will always be the Klingons, the adversaries of change. There will always be some setbacks. Today, we live with another kind of terror, both domestically and globally. There still is a racial divide in this nation - as we saw so distressingly during the Katrina hurricane disaster. Yet, look how far we have come in forty years - in our lifetime. Optimism, imagination, and hard work trump obstacles and setbacks. We have made amazing progress.

As we celebrate the 40th anniversary of Star Trek with a host of conventions throughout the world, I will always be mindful of the fact that we, at the same time, celebrate the genius of the optimistic mind. We celebrate the science fiction world transformed into our very real society today by those visionary minds.

We celebrate the people, the fans, who connected with that positive vision of Gene Roddenberry. In September, on the 8th, the birthday of Star Trek, I will be joining the fans at the Science Fiction Museum in Seattle for a big 40th Anniversary Convention. Then, most excitingly, I venture forth on a project I had never imagined in my wildest dreams. I begin filming a new manifestation of Star Trek - this time to be accessed only on the Internet! This miraculous rebirth of Star Trek called, Star Trek: New Voyages, is the brainchild of a venturesome young fan, James Cawley. James is an extraordinarily enterprising fan "boldly going" where no fan had ever gone before. He has already produced two Internet episodes, one with Walter Koenig, who spoke highly to me of his experience on the show. For mine, titled, "World Enough and Time," James Cawley has gathered a remarkable pool of veteran Star Trek talent. The gifted team of Marc Zicree and Michael Reaves are currently busily at work on the script. Marc will also be at the helm as director of the film. Ron B. Moore, a good friend and veteran of "The Next Generation," "Deep Space Nine" and "Voyager," will be doing the visual effects. In addition, playing the heroic Captain Kirk is the truly heroic James Cawley. He, in fact, personifies the adventurous spirit of Star Trek.

On this propitious fortieth year of Star Trek, we, most of all, celebrate the spirit that looks to the challenges yet to come - that vast unknown with such intriguing mysteries yet to be explored. I look forward to sharing that journey into our common future as we "boldly go where no one has gone before" for many more years.

Fan Blogger--Army SPC Angelina Christian

2006-08-09T20:19:00.000-07:00

Today’s blog is the first of what I hope will be many by Star Trek fans and people attending Planet Xpo’s STAR TREK 40th Anniversary Gala Celebration & Conference in Seattle. This one comes to us all the way from Iraq, and I really hope you will take the time to leave Angelina a comment about her blog entry. You could be our next guest blogger! Send your photo (if you have one) and brief story to Amy Ulen as soon as possible...we only have 29 days to go!

Blog #11 by Angelina Christian,
US Army Specialist currently serving in Iraq

"What I Learned from Star Trek"

To wear a uniform of any country is to represent the ideals of that country. And you must believe in those ideals or it is no longer a uniform but becomes just a costume you cloak yourself in to avoid personal responsibility for your actions. Not to say everyone who wears a uniform is righteous—-far from. I wear the uniform of an American Soldier, and I wear the uniform of a Marine in Starfleet. As I put on my boots, grab my shirt, and adjust my hat, I am a stranger in a foreign land. Some see me as an invader or savior—-for I have been called both-—because I wear the uniform that embodies the principles of my forefathers who struggled and are struggling still for freedoms most never know. If I fail in my tasks and do evil (as some who wear this same uniform have done and are doing), I feel the sting and must strive harder to remind both the people who I serve and represent and the people who have allowed me to remain in their country that we are not all the sum of the whole.

As I put on the uniform of a Starfleet Marine, I am cloaking myself in the vision of a man I admire who, with an imagination that knew no bounds, created a world in which we as a species set aside differences and embraced a simple concept “Infinite Diversity in Infinite combinations. Or ‘Can’t we all just get along?’” And with these words international cooperation between governments opened the way for science and doctors, scholars and teachers to better ourselves and allow us leaps and bounds in space exploration, education, preventive medicine. As we explored space if only with imagination and a little help from special effects, a small box brought us to a world which hopefully in the future we can strive to embrace.

My day begins before the sun rises, and I am still working long after it sets. I wear a uniform that attempts to blend into my surroundings, and my equipment is a far cry from high tech. I carry no phaser (but it sure would be nice to have that stun setting). My weapon is my actions as I remain calm and polite while inside I shake and scream at the injustice I see. I stand back as I watch a country piece itself back together, thinking “let me help,” but I must remain silent and offer assistance only if asked. It is a fine line I tread, and I do this because someday soon I hope to be partners with a people I both admire and want to smack upside the head for the atrocities they do to themselves and my fellow soldiers. And, yes, sometimes I wish to smack my fellow soldiers, too. You are free to disagree or agree with why I am away from home and family, my opinion is mine and I will keep my own counsel. I wear the uniform of an American Soldier so someday soon the universe I watched on television will help transform the world I know into the world I hope for.

"The Soul of a New Machine"--Part III

2006-08-08T19:14:00.000-07:00

Blog #10 by Jeff Greenwald
Author of Future Perfect:
How Star Trek Conquered Planet Earth

Taken from the chapter
"The Soul of a New Machine"

Sound Stage 29 is a whale-gray building, big as a city block, with giant Helvetica numbers tattooed on its side. A short flight of steps leads to an industrial strength door, and into the vast hangar where the Enterprise 1701-E is under construction.

A Galaxy-class starship may require two decades to build, but this one’s got to be finished in a week. Power drills and buzz saws shriek through the haze; a worker in overalls carries a stack of phaser rifles toward the prop room.

Braga and Moore lead me through an opening in a high plywood wall, and we emerge onto the Main Bridge. The place is a mess. Plastic sheets cover the consoles, and noodles of snipped electrical insulation litter the floor. Despite its rough edges, the set radiates a mythical panache.

“Here’s the Observation lounge,” indicates Moore, pointing to an adjoining room containing a long, glossy table. He nods back to the rectangular hole we climbed in through. “That’ll be the main viewer....”

There’s a creaking sound, and the floor rumbles alarmingly. I’m ready to bolt—but it ain’t no earthquake. Herman Zimmerman, First Contact’s solidly-built production designer, eases up through a trap door and wipes his hands on his overalls.

“You see us in a bit of a disarray here,” he grimaces. “We had all the chairs in place, and the consoles in place, but now we’re diggin’ holes in the floor to put all the electric to ‘em. So it’s kinda messy.”

Braga tilts his head. “I think the crushed Pepsi can over there in the Replicator is a nice touch.”

Zimmerman laughs. “We always try to keep the product placement in.”

We follow him off the Bridge and into the Captain’s ‘Ready Room,’ where a haunted Picard will receive orders from Starfleet during the film’s opening scene. “We’ll have his bed over here,” Zimmerman says, gesturing with flattened palms, “and two chairs over there. There’ll be an aquarium in this corner, and a model of the Enterprise over there....”

Braga ducks through an adjacent door, and gestures me in. “Here’s the bathroom. Hey, there’s a mirror in here! It feels real!” He spies the toilet, and calls to Zimmerman with mock exasperation. “Herman... people don’t poop in the 24th century. This is not consistent with Gene’s Vision....”

“Yeah, well, it’s just a little touch of realism for Patrick.”

The PD’s beeper chirps, and he hurries away. Ron, Brannon and I wander into the maze of Enterprise corridors, and pause at the entrance to the Transporter room. It’s impossible to resist; I fiddle with the controls and hop onto the biofilter foot pads, trying to fax myself into Uma Thurman’s shower. As I wait, futilely, to dematerialize, Braga points out an interesting fact: the “phase transition coils”—i.e., the opaque glass circles above my head—were the actual transporter foot pads used on the very first Enterprise.

We continue our stroll in silence. The carpet is plush, and the sets look terrific; it would be a pleasure to spend a tour of duty on this vessel. The feeling is so compelling that I experience a dizzy moment of temporal disorientation. I get an unsettling feeling that Zimmerman, Okuda and Sternbach are actually creating the future; that if there ever is a real-life Enterprise, it’s going to look exactly like this.

Braga stops short, and stares down the long, curving corridor. “Look how great that is. Just that sweep.” He’s whispering. “Every direction you look, you’re on a starship. You are actually on a starship.”

Ahead lies Engineering, its illuminated Warp Core activated and pulsing. Blue deuterium flows from above, red antimatter seethes from below, and the two meet in an opaque central chamber that sloshes and churns like a vintage Maytag. These sets are finished; with their seamless control panels, communicator panels and glowing schematics, they look absolutely real.

The poignancy of the illusion isn’t lost on me. “It almost makes you feel,” I muse, “like we’ve still got a real space program.”

Moore nods ruefully. “Both the space program and Star Trek were ending just as I was becoming aware of life. Technically speaking, I was born in the last year of the baby boom: 1964. So I’ve got all these memories of the 60s, but I wasn’t really there for any of it. Yet I became fascinated by the music, the Kennedys; by all that stuff. I still am.”

“I find it shocking that the space program has dissipated,” Braga erupts. “A lot of people don’t realize that everything from Velcro to computers—from the most inane technologies to the most important—came out of it. Things developed for the astronauts found their way into the mainstream, opening new technologies and industries....” He fumes silently, picking at a Starfleet sticker on the wall.

Now Moore gets into it. He tells me about his childhood fascination with the moonshots—he was five when the Eagle landed—and his memories of the motorized rover. He would have been an astronaut himself, but his eyesight wasn’t good enough. Instead, he read about rockets, built plastic models of the lunar lander, and collected those books you paste picture-stamps into. Moore’s not an emotional guy, but Apollo 13 moved him deeply. During the movie’s Saturn V launch sequence, he found himself in tears.

“There was a sense of, ‘God, the space program used to be so great!’ It was just this amazing adventure.” Moore sighs, and shrugs with ennui. “But it got boring, somehow. The missions got less sexy. There’s not the sense that we’re pushing the frontier back like we were.”

“Unfortunately,” says Braga, “the problems here on Earth are so horrible and complex that people have turned their eyes away from the stars. They’re looking down, instead of up. Meanwhile, Star Trek represents that adventure—and we all need adventure in our lives.”

"The Soul of a New Machine"--Part II

2006-08-07T18:27:00.000-07:00

Blog #9 by Jeff Greenwald
Author of Future Perfect:
How Star Trek Conquered Planet Earth

Taken from the chapter
"The Soul of a New Machine"

An enormous poster of the Enterprise NCC-1701-D hangs on the office wall, cut away to show the decks. Over the past ten years, Sternbach has made numerous modifications to Probert’s design. He’s also sketched out dozens of smaller Starfleet vehicles, and concocted an armada of alien battleships, shuttle craft and cruisers. As challenging as it is, he admits, it’s nowhere near as tough as the real thing.

“Designing real spaceships is for people with real mathematical and engineering backgrounds,” says Sternbach—-who, Okuda jokes, ‘has probably designed more starships than any other person in history.’ “We’re safe because there are no peer reviews. There are no wind-tunnels. You can’t test the Enterprise to destruction.”

Ratings, however, do act as a kind of peer review. If the starship didn’t hold together visually and conceptually, it would’ve been blown off the air years ago. In some ways, the original Enterprise had it easy; it flew in the 1960s, before the era of personal computers. In the world of Pentium processors and Zip drives, technical credibility is a must.

“We could, of course, come up with things the audience couldn’t really identify with,” Sternbach observes. “Driving the ship by brain waves, for example. But we don’t. Instead we jump way ahead—-then step back a few paces.”

Since most of the action aboard the ship takes place on the Main Bridge, one key to the Enterprise’s success lies in its visual displays: the consoles and blinking screens that summarize information about the ship’s tactical, scientific and environmental status. All of these, along with the video clips appearing on the ship’s monitors, are Okuda’s brainchildren. His style is so distinct, in fact, that the graphics are called “Okudagrams.”

“One can easily imagine control panels a hundred times more complicated,” he says, unrolling a large transparency that, backlit on the bridge, will serve as one of the Enterprise’s computer consoles. “What I’m trying to imply here, by these sweeping curves and clear lines of organization, is that Starfleet has put an enormous amount of thought into figuring things out. Each task has been broken down into highly simplified steps. The software reconfigures itself to relate to what you’re dealing with now: the computer knows what you want to do before you know you want to do it.”

…The tendency of life to imitate art is one of the most uncanny aspects of the Star Trek universe. The Holodeck, a virtual reality playground that crew members use for everything from martial arts training to erotic distraction, may still be a century away, but some of the original series’ gizmos-—like transdermal hyposprays and folding cellular “communicators”—-are already in common use. A Canadian firm has developed the first working Tricorder, and Apple Computers-—directly inspired by Star Trek-—has come up with a version of the PADD (Personal Access Display Device): a palmtop computer used by Starfleet personnel.

“When Rick first designed the PADD my reaction was, ‘Shouldn’t this have more buttons?’“ Okuda laughs. “Then we saw the prototype Newton, and I said, “Oh...no buttons!’“

Such situations also beg the question of obsolescence: a broad sand trap when you’re designing a starship that won’t be launched for another four centuries.

“We try to stay reasonably well informed of things that are likely to happen in the next five, 10 or 20 years,” Okuda says. “But at the same time, a lot of the [Enterprise’s] computer systems are archaic, even now.”

The key to staying on top of things, Okuda and Sternbach have realized, is anchoring the foundations of the 24th century in cutting-edge theory. Although the show is filled with wild terms-—wormholes, antimatter streams and dilithium crystals (see the Star Trek: The Next Generation Technical Manual for details)-—the physics behind them is impressively robust. Technical consultants have included Dr. Robert Forward, widely known for his “hard” science fiction; Dr. Robert Bussard, who came up with the concept of harvesting interstellar gases as starship fuel; and Dr. Gregory Benford, a scientist and sci-fi writer at the University of California at Irvine. British astrophysicist Stephen Hawking not only contributed the forward to Lawrence Krauss’ The Physics of Star Trek; he starred as a poker-playing hologram in a TNG episode called “Descent.”

“A lot of the engineering inspirations come from G. Harry Stine, a former White Sands missile engineer,” adds Sternbach. “He’s got a very practical view of large aerospace projects. It’s a very long design process. In some cases, you have to order materials five years before you start cutting parts. That’s why, as per the Manual, constructing a Galaxy Class Starship-—like the Enterprise 1701-E appearing in First Contact-—is a 20-year effort. Even with fabulous, computer-assisted systems, it would take longer than one would believe.”

One of the most impressive things about Sternbach and Okuda is their command of fictional physics. They can lecture for hours about warp drive, list the sixteen power settings of Type II and III phasers, and explain how Romulans drive their ships with quantum singularities. It sounds very convincing. In fact, it sounds inevitable. But are there some technical aspects of the show that, given the laws of physics, will never be possible?

“‘Never’—-as Arthur C. Clarke would say—-‘is a term you want to stay away from.’” Okuda grins. “But there are things like the transporter, which is essentially a molecular fax machine....”

“Superluminal [faster-than-light] travel may never come to pass,” Sternbach concedes. “And the replicator is another magic box. But I think that seeing these things, week after week, is a tribute to the potential ingenuity of future generations. And if we don’t do exactly those things—well, we may do other things that are just as magical.”

Look for part III of Greenwald's "The Soul of a New Machine" tomorrow. We are also excited to announce that Arthur C. Clarke (who was mentioned in today's blog) has submitted an essay that will be posted (with photos) as our 40th entry on 9/7 and will be read at the 40th anniversary gala celebration at the Space Needle on 9/8!

"The Soul of a New Machine"--Part I

2006-08-06T21:36:00.000-07:00

Thanks to those of you who have left comments on the blog; keep 'em coming! I'm also anxious to read your personal stories and will start publishing those this week. We have a great one by US Army SPC Angelina Christian who is currently serving in Iraq. I've also been in contact with Kelley Fuller who is leaving Australia soon for a month-long convention tour that includes Vegas, Toronto & Seattle! Become part of the action by sending your story and photo to Amy Ulen as soon as possible.

Blog #8 by Jeff Greenwald
Author of Future Perfect:
How Star Trek Conquered Planet Earth

Taken from the chapter
"The Soul of a New Machine"

…I suspect (though I have no way to prove it) that, aside from Noah’s Ark (and possibly the Titanic), the starship Enterprise is the most famous such vehicle ever created. It’s amazing to realize that, during the past four decades, the ship has survived two captains and six reincarnations. She’s been around almost as long as rock n’ roll. Her transporter, early-warning and propulsion lingo are probably more familiar to most Americans than the Bill of Rights, and her mission—To boldly go where no one has gone before—better known than the recipe for Play-Doh.

According to the Star Trek Encyclopedia, the very first Enterprise—NCC-1701, flown by Captain Kirk in the original series—will be commissioned in the year 2245, at Starfleet’s San Francisco Yards. Those future engineers will be assembling an antique; the ship was actually designed in 1964, by Star Trek art director Matt Jefferies (the narrow “Jefferies Tubes” that serve as the starship’s conduits are named in his honor). His concept for the spacecraft was an ingenious one, marrying the classic saucer motif with wingtip “warp nacelles.” (Jefferies’ original sketch put the saucer on top, with the nacelles underneath, like skis, but Roddenberry liked it better upside-down.)

Despite its pedigree, the Enterprise was the first science fiction rocket ship that didn’t look like a flying saucer or mutated cigar. It has no retro-rockets, or landing pads. The reason is obvious: a true starship will be assembled in orbit. It need never touch the ground, or enter a planet’s atmosphere. It is hard to imagine what the stuffy execs at NBC made of this design back in 1964, but, like so many other things about the original series—from Spock’s ears to the black female Lieutenant on the Bridge—they probably thought it wouldn’t fly.

Over the years, innumerable improvements have been lavished on the Federation’s flagship. The Enterprise NCC-1701-D, of Star Trek: The Next Generation fame, was designed by Andrew Probert in 1986 (unlike its predecessors, 1701-D will be commissioned in 2363 at the Utopia Planitia Fleet Yards, orbiting Mars). Volumes have been written about the starship’s architecture and systems. Even those with absolutely no interest in science fiction will admit that the fifth Enterprise drips with elegance: a quality defined by biologist Edward O. Wilson as, “the right mix of simplicity and latent power.”
* * *
If a single factor makes Star Trek believable, it’s the confidence with which all this 24th century technology is portrayed. From the jargon rattled off in Engineering to the animated displays flashing on Voyager’s Main Bridge, the show has a look, an atmosphere, within which the most far-fetched scientific miracles seem plausible.

Two men, primarily, are responsible for this. Rick Sternbach and Michael Okuda, the show’s longtime illustrators and technical advisors, are the wizards behind Star Trek’s curtain. Together, they have created a nearly seamless illusion of life aboard a stadium-sized starship.

Entering Star Trek’s art department at Paramount Pictures, I find the two techs on their feet, watching TV. The program, of course, is Star Trek-—and their rapt expressions indicate that they’re utterly entranced by their own illusions.

Sternbach and Okuda…have remarkably similar backgrounds. Both identify themselves as children of the post-Sputnik generation: an era when, as Okuda puts it, “the nation still realized that science, education and technology were priorities.” Both grew up devouring sci-fi, building Estes rockets and chanting the satirical ballads of songwriter/mathematician Tom Lehrer.

Career-wise, they took different tacks. While Sternbach moved into magazine and book illustration, Okuda focused on commercial graphics and community theater—learning skills that would serve him well in the world of television production. “You’ve got to come up with creative solutions,” he explains, “and there’s no money.”

Sternbach was drafted onto the Star Trek team in 1977, designing spaceships and props for the first feature film. He left Paramount, but was called back in 1987 for The Next Generation. Okuda—who’d contributed to Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home-—returned to invent TNG’s graphics. “The similarities between us were very scary,” Sternbach recalls. “We’ve been fortunate to converge on this show, and achieve a high-tech critical mass.”

“Fortunate” doesn’t come close. Playing with the props and models on Okuda’s shelves, leafing though Sternbach’s sketches of the latest Romulan weapons, I’m floored by the sheer fun these guys are having. They’re the luckiest nerds in the world.

Read the rest of Greenwald's interview with Rick Sternbach and Michael Okuda in tomorrow's blog. Visit his site at www.jeffgreenwald.com to learn more about Greenwald and his works.

Keeping the dream of space flight alive!

2006-08-05T15:47:00.000-07:00

From the time that I was a little girl and first started watching re-runs of ST:TOS, I knew that I wanted to be an astronaut. I used this as the topic for my career research paper in 9th grade with the intention of becoming an Air Force pilot and then moving on to NASA. I was devastated when I learned that my poor eyesight would keep me from becoming a pilot; I had to adjust my life goals. I eventually turned to education and became a teacher. I was still in college when the first Teacher in Space, Christa McAuliffe, perished in the Challenger accident. Like the rest of the country, I mourned the lives that were lost and worried about the future of the space program, but I also had the added concern that this would close the door to other teachers venturing into space. Luckily, Barbara Morgan picked up the torch handed off by McAuliffe and will join the STS-118 crew, which is set to launch in June of 2007.

I must admit that I gave up on my dream of reaching space for many years until I started hearing about space tourism. At this point, it is still for the very wealthy, but I’m still young(ish), so I have hope again that I, too, will be able to reach the stars some day!

When once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been and there you will always long to return.
-Leonardo Da Vinci (1452-1519)

Blog #7 by Pat Hoar & Erin Lundberg
of Space Adventures, Ltd.

The experience was more fulfilling than I could have ever imagined. I have a newfound sense of wonder seeing the Earth and stars from such an incredible perspective. Certainly, through my training I was prepared for the technical aspects, but I had no idea that I would be flooded with such amazement and joy after seeing my first sunrise and sunset from space and the feeling of continual weightlessness. It was an unforgettable experience that I am truly grateful for and will relive in my mind for the rest of my life.
-Dr. Greg Olsen (who flew to the ISS on an orbital mission)

Today space travel is no longer in the realm of fantasy and science fiction; it is a reality that thousands of individuals will soon be able to experience. Space Adventures, Ltd., the only company in the world to have sent paying passengers to space and the only company in the world to offer everything from simulations to actual spaceflights, is developing their suborbital spaceflight program which will enable individuals from all over the world to realize their dream of spaceflight.

Space Adventures' suborbital program will consist of a detailed four-day flight preparation and training experience which will familiarize each passenger with the flight program, critical vehicle systems, flight operations, zero-gravity conditions, in-flight accelerations and spaceflight safety procedures. On launch day, passengers will fly into space, 62 miles (100 kms) above Earth and experience up to five minutes of continuous weightlessness--all the while gazing at the vast blackness of space set against the blue horizon of the Earth below.

However, potential space explorers need not wait until launch date to start participating in their spaceflight experience. Today, they can join Space Adventures’ Spaceflight Club and begin taking the necessary steps towards becoming one of the first private citizens to experience space. In September 2004, Space Adventures unveiled its Spaceflight Club to serve as the unifying voice for the next generation of space explorers and to provide members with the tools, experience and training needed to achieve their goal of spaceflight.

With each year of membership in the Spaceflight Club all annual dues accrue as credit toward the price of a future suborbital spaceflight. In addition to investing in their suborbital spaceflight, Spaceflight Club members will be kept in the forefront of this new and exciting industry via member newsletters, VIP events and other exclusive benefits. Become a Spaceflight Club member today and join the ranks of space enthusiasts worldwide including Eugene Roddenberry, son of legendary science-fiction creator, Gene Roddenberry, whose television series changed the face of television.

For more information on Space Adventures’ Spaceflight Club, please visit http://www.spaceadventures.com/flight/spaceflightclub. For more information on Space Adventures’ suborbital spaceflights, please visit http://www.spaceadventures.com/flight/suborbital.

For more information, check out Space Tourism: A Multimedia Special Report!

Wireless Enterprise--Part III

2006-08-04T17:23:00.000-07:00

Blog #6 by Martin Cooper, Executive Chairman
and Co-Founder of ArrayComm LLC

Wireless Enterprise
Part III

The Applications Will Change Our Lives
Once the technology of low-cost ubiquitous broadband is available and systems are deployed, we’ll be ready for the meaningful step in the mobilization of broadband. Applications that use this ubiquitous wireless broadband will change our lives dramatically, not the technology.

Bandwidth is awareness. If there is sufficient, untethered bandwidth at low enough cost, the need to travel, the requirement to go somewhere to experience other people and other places will be significantly reduced. The earliest of these applications are easy to predict; the really profound applications will take much longer. When people have lots of untethered bandwidth at low cost, they will change how they deal with each other and with the world. Why would you ever hold a face-to-face physical meeting if you had super hi-fidelity, three-dimensional views of the other conversants?

Examples
The photographic industry is rapidly transitioning from film, a truly primitive way of recording and storing images, to digital photography. Digital photography is not much better than film. Moving digital photographs from cameras to their ultimate destination is still awkward and complex. The camera of the future need only have two buttons, one to take the picture and the second to transmit that picture, virtually instantaneously, to the person who is intended to view the picture. Whether it’s my son sending a picture of my granddaughter to my television set for viewing an instant after he took it, a newspaper reporter sending a picture to his editor from the field, a marketing person updating a website with new pictorials, or a police officer sending a picture of a suspect into a pattern recognition data-base, a large amount of “middle man” awkwardness and inefficiency can be eliminated.

Consider music delivery. We are already replacing the CD (can you imagine buying a piece of plastic in a cardboard box when all we want is the music itself?) with downloaded music. But even that process is awkward and complex. The consumer of the future will make a music selection and download the music wirelessly and instantaneously for her listening pleasure.

Game playing is already in the process of revolution but the ability for people to play games with each other with no boundaries of geography, language, or politics will be even more revolutionary. But games are just strategic interactions by people seeking to achieve a competitive objective in a conflict. The application technology of game playing lends itself to public safety encounters as well as business competition.

The whole concept of marketing will change when it becomes possible to reach segments of the market with personalized, customized content wherever these constituencies are located. The concept of the business meeting will change when hi-fidelity sound and three dimensional images of meeting participants can be delivered to other participants, along with charts, videos, and other content.

The way in which medicine is practiced is going to change dramatically. It’s possible to measure virtually everything in your physiological system simply and unobtrusively today. It’s not inconceivable that this kind of information can be delivered directly from an individual to a doctor, or perhaps to a computer, for analysis instantaneously. This can happen when a person is sick and not when that person can get an appointment to visit a doctor. The doctor (or the computer) can then diagnose and prescribe immediately.

Public Safety
To a large degree, the ability of our public safety organizations to perform their duties is dependent upon the kinds of awareness that low-cost untethered broadband can provide. If the commander of a public safety unit, for example, can have visual and audio presentations coming from every officer in his unit for his immediate analysis, there is no question that he will be more effective and will do things differently. The commander, and each of the people in his unit, will have access to databases, from NCIC to the full extent of the Internet. It will take excessive development of new systems to make this information useful but it is inevitable that, once low-cost bandwidth is available, these systems will evolve.

We have had a taste of the productivity improvement, the convenience, and the freedom that wireless broadband can offer us. But new technology, enlightened regulation, and focused applications will lay before us a cornucopia, endlessly growing, of tools that will educate us, make us safer, and better our lives.

Wireless Enterprise--Part II

2006-08-03T12:05:00.000-07:00

Blog #5 by Martin Cooper, Executive Chairman
and Co-Founder of ArrayComm LLC

Wireless Enterprise
Part II

Revolutionary Technology
The wireless broadband technology revolution is well underway. Multi Antenna Signal-processing (MAS), the modern version of what was once called “smart antennas,” will pervade every existing and future wireless system. MAS systems already in operation today have dramatically changed the economics of wireless communications. OFDM (Orthogonal Frequency Division Multiplex) will reduce multi-path interference and increase speed. Software defined radios will bring down the compatibility barriers, and cognitive radio using all of the previous technologies will, ultimately, eradicate the myth of spectrum scarcity.

All of this will take time. There are precursor wireless systems in operation now, like iBurst and Ripwave, that use MAS as do many WiFI access points. The WiMAX standard is now real and mobile; WiMAX will be in the market by next year. Led by industry giants like Intel, Samsung, Motorola, Alcatel, and others, WiMAX has the potential to be the next generation of broadband wireless connectivity. Inherent in WiMAX is the use of MAS and OFDM. MAS has already provided orders of magnitude improvement in spectral efficiency in iBurst systems that are deployed in more than a half dozen countries. This high spectral efficiency allows many more people to be served in a given amount of radio spectrum with many fewer base stations. The result – far lower costs to serve each user! Furthermore, because MAS is still in its infancy and because the power of MAS is achieved by upgradeable software, there is the potential to continue improving the economics and the spectral efficiency indefinitely.

And WiMAX will not be the only new wireless system. Qualcomm and Kyocera are standardizing their versions of broadband wireless in a separate process from WiMAX and their systems will offer unique advantages in addition to incorporating MAS and other modern technologies.

The vision is clear. There is no reason why broadband wireless cannot be totally ubiquitous, as speedy as an RJ45 connection, and lower in cost than wired broadband. It will take some time for this to happen, but our natural mobility, and the competitive marketplace, will make it happen.

Regulation
The need for, and availability of, low-cost untethered communications will force spectrum regulators to recognize the evolution of technology. Among their challenges:

Most two-way radio systems today, including cellular radio communications, use frequency division duplex (FDD). A separate radio channel is used to communicate in each direction, i.e., from the mobile user to a base station and from the base station to the mobile user. This allows both people in a conversation to talk and listen at the same time, to “duplex.” At the time these radio systems were conceived, FDD was the only way to provide duplex communications. It is now possible to achieve the same duplex communications on a single radio channel; this is called TDD or time division duplex.

There is no inherent difference in the spectral efficiency and economics of FDD and TDD; they each require guard-bands and the same laws of physics apply, except for one very important distinction. When MAS, smart antennas, are deployed, they are far more effective in a TDD system than in FDD. The reason is pretty simple. In an MAS system the user initiates a call and a base station receives the user’s signal. Through the use of arrays of antennas and complex signal-processing, the base station computes an electronic image of the user’s position. The base station now transmits the return signal to that same location. The assumption is that the return path is exactly the same as the path from the user to the base station. In FDD systems, this is much less true than with TDD. Because the two transmissions are on different paths, the multi-path is very different and the MAS technology is less effective. Even TDD is not perfect since the return transmission occurs milliseconds or microseconds later than the forward transmission, but it is still far better than the FDD case. Regulators will first have to recognize this great potential improvement introduced by FDD systems and they will have to manage the difficult problem of intermixing FDD and TDD systems.

Ultimately, the regulators are going to get out of the business of spectrum allocation. That’s the promise of cognitive radio.

Cognitive Radio
As a young engineer fighting the spectral efficiency battle, I envisioned a wireless world populated with intelligent radios. How wonderful would it be if a person requiring spectrum for a particular purpose would reach out and use only the amount of spectrum that person needs for only the time that need is required and only over the geography required to reach all of the people involved in this communication. Cognitive radio technology promises to do that. Unfortunately, cognitive radio is still very much in the laboratory. Some of the tools that will be an essential part of cognitive radio, like software-defined radios, are achieving practicality today but it will be a long time before cognitive radio technology is commercially practical.

Implementation of cognitive radio faces an even more difficult problem. Regulators have conditioned spectrum licensees to exclusively own their spectrum. Existing owners will not take the intrusion of others onto their God-given (or at least FCC-given) spectrum.

Software-defined radios, on the other hand, are here today. Because a software-defined radio can be programmed to recognize multiple air-interfaces, the technical barriers to standards compatibility are destined to fall – but the carriers will make the decisions that will deliver that wonderful world of universal access.

Meet the father of portable cellular telephony!

2006-08-02T19:49:00.000-07:00

During the conference, we are going to hear from scientific greats such as Martin Cooper who is known as “the father of portable cellular telephony.” Today’s blog entry contains Mr. Cooper’s description of how Star Trek has influenced his life and the first of three parts of his essay, Wireless Enterprise. I hope you enjoy reading this article by a true visionary who has impacted all of our lives!

Blog #4 by Martin Cooper, Executive Chairman
and Co-Founder of ArrayComm LLC

Star Trek has been a part of my life, a “must see” since the program went on the air. I can’t say that Star Trek introduced the concept of the importance of personal communications to me since the concept of the first cell phone was introduced at about the same time as the first Star Trek program. We at Motorola had been working on the technologies for years before. But the images that Star Trek provided to those of us in the real world of different implementations of the communicator, and more importantly, how people used this personal communications tool, were crucial in keeping our dream alive of making this technology available to everyone on Earth, not just the crew of the Enterprise.

Is it really a coincidence that Captain Kirk was using a flip phone in 1966 and that there are in excess of a billion people on earth that use flip phones today? I don’t think so.

Wireless Enterprise
Part I

People are inherently, naturally mobile! They don’t want to be chained to their desks and constrained to their offices and homes. Yet, the broadband connectivity that is woven into the fabric of our enterprise existence does just that. Whether we’re plugged into an RJ45 connection or logged on to a wireless LAN, we are forced to sit at our desks or to stay within two or three walls of an access point.

We can always use a cellular broadband connection like EDGE or 1XEVDO. Unfortunately, the speed on these connections is rarely better than a few hundred kilobits per second, and the cost of such connections relegates them to Blackberry and Pocket PC applications and occasional Web browsing. WiFi and cellular connections have given us a taste of REAL wireless broadband but neither one fulfils the dream of complete personal telecommunications freedom. Only ubiquitous, low-cost, untethered broadband will do that.

We’re addicted to broadband; we can’t get along without it. But we’re no better off in the way we use broadband today than the way we made voice calls 25 years ago before cellular telephony.

I know what you’re thinking. Your productivity is far greater with the combination of broadband connectivity in the office and your Blackberry or Pocket PC on the road. You really don’t need any more than that. Surely, I must be exaggerating when I talk about the need for low-cost wireless broadband ubiquity. That’s exactly what people told me thirty years ago when I talked about the need for ubiquitous wireless voice connections, and yet your lives and your behavior have been notably changed by the availability of low cost cellular service. Wireless voice is not just a step forward from landline calling. When you call someone on their cellular phone, you expect a person to answer; you’re not just calling a place. What a huge and profound difference! Cellular technology has changed the way most people conduct their business and personal lives; it has improved productivity, and enhanced their safety and convenience and made them truly mobile.

This ubiquitous capability did not happen instantly. From the introduction of commercial cellular technology in 1983, it took ten years before there were a few million subscribers in the US. It took almost twenty-three years to achieve penetration to two-thirds of our population.

Wireless connectivity today is where cellular radio technology was twenty years ago. That’s going to change and here’s how:

New technology will reduce the cost and increase bandwidth of ubiquitous communications by orders of magnitude.

Regulators will make spectrum available in which this new technology will be deployed

Only then will new applications arise that will change our personal and business lives.

Excerpt from DeForest Kelley: A Harvest of Memories

2006-08-01T18:48:00.000-07:00

Kris (along with one of her friends) polished De's star weekly from the time it was awarded until she left Hollywood a few years ago. This volunteer job required approval from De (of course) and the Chamber of Commerce! Her efforts paid off, his was one of the best-looking stars in the area. She said that De told her to just not get arrested while polishing the star! She still has this fan (used to dry the polish) and another one signed by De in her memorabilia collection.

She gave me several photos yesterday, and here are two of my favorites. Carolyn (De’s wife) was very fond of Kris’ serval, Deaken, and it really shows in this photo! I also get a kick out of the photo of Kris cleaning Deaken’s ear with De looking on!

I can't wait to read YOUR story of how Star Trek changed your world; so, send it (along with a photo if you have one) to Amy Ulen as soon as possible!

Blog #3 by Kristine M Smith,
Author of DeForest Kelley: A Harvest of Memories

Taken from the chapter
“Happy Birthday to Me”
(© 2001 by KM Smith)

No part of the following excerpt may be reprinted or used in
any way without the express written consent of the author.

Three weeks after my birthday, I wound up in Denver — and was invited (via Sue Keenan, De's fan club President) to dinner with the Kelleys! This was my first actual, sit-down-and-chat meeting with them, and I was so nervous about it that before we headed into the Kelley’s hotel suite I pleaded with Sue, “Sit right next to me all night long, and if they ask me a question, YOU answer it!”

When you find yourself in an overwhelming situation like this one, you want to be at your best. You want to make a good impression; above all, you do NOT want to come across looking like Garfield’s little buddy Odie! On the other hand, you don’t want to look as if you’re having an audience with the Pope. Something right smack in the middle seems about right…but I was nowhere near certain I could handle a middle-of-the-road approach. So I was nervous.

No. I was petrified.

I followed Sue and a couple other DKFC members – all of whom were cool, calm and collected by all appearances – into the Kelley’s hotel suite, where we were to meet, and I managed, for a moment, to present myself as normal. I hugged Mrs. Kelley and said, “Hello.” Then I went over and shook hands with De. So far, soooo good! But…witness how quickly I went downhill from there, inside my nerve-wracked body.

We stepped over to the couches and prepared to sit down. De asked us if he could take our coats. Now, if anyone else on the planet had asked me that question, an easy answer would have been yes or no, right? I mean, he wasn’t asking my opinion on whether the U.S. should get out of the United Nations; he was just asking if I cared to give up my coat for a while. I gave it serious thought. I thought, “What does HE want me to say? Should I say yes? Will he be upset if I say no?” Finally it occurred to me that he didn’t give a fig whether I said yes or no, just so long as I said something, so he could sit down! So, I said no. That seemed to satisfy him – but not for long. Next he wanted to know if we would like drinks. I don’t drink, so naturally I said YES. (Well, I had just told him no on something else. I didn’t want him to think I was a bitch.) So, I said yes. Then he wanted to know what I would have! Oh, boy…he had me there! He was pitching these incredibly difficult questions at me and I was unable to field them! “Oh…whatever!” I finally “decided,” hoping that would end the interrogation. Mrs. Kelley probably recognized the fact that I had slipped into the much-dreaded Idiocy Mode (a common affliction of fans) and tried to help me out. She suggested that I try a “DeForest Kelley.” I looked at her, and I thought, “Gee, that is a very generous offer!” But I realized I wasn’t getting the proper picture. She explained to me that a DeForest Kelley was a drink known to all of fandom – except me, obviously. “Oh, fine… I’ll have one of those…”

Well, after a couple of DeForest Kelleys (vodka and water with a twist of lemon), I felt calmer. No one had raised any other controversial questions similar to “Can I take your coat?” in quite a while, so I was just sitting back and listening and watching everybody talk and laugh and have a good time…Not much later, we went downstairs for dinner. De sat at the head of the table. To his right sat Sue Keenan, and to her right sat Jackie Edwards.

To De’s left sat Carolyn (Mrs. Kelley), then me. There was NOBODY on my left – for a hundred miles. I quickly lost my nervousness sitting next to Carolyn, because she is a doll – so nice, and so much fun. She could calm a jackhammer. I know, because she calmed me, and I’m the greater challenge!

Carolyn and I lost ourselves in some conversation about having both been raised in the State of Washington. At one point I was explaining something to her in great detail, and a fold or a crease on my left sleeve popped me with a great deal of force and I stopped in mid-sentence and turned around to my left, fully expecting to find a waiter or someone who had come along to ask me a question. THERE WAS NOBODY THERE! I panicked. I thought, “OK, Kris…how are you going to handle THIS dilemma?” Well, I had two choices. I could turn back to Carolyn and just continue the conversation as if nothing at all had happened – leading her to think I was several bricks short of a full load — or I could explain what happened. Well, naturally, I opted for the truth – but I forgot to provide a complete explanation. Instead of what I just told you, I turned back to Mrs. Kelley and I said, “Strange! I could have sworn somebody just tapped me on the shoulder!” Carolyn accepted this bizarre information calmly. She looked at Jackie. Jackie looked at her. They both studied their salads for a while and said nothing.

I’m amazed the Kelleys didn’t signal someone to bring a butterfly net!

Can you believe this same “panicked peahen” fan became De's personal assistant and caregiver at the end of his life? What a journey! Enjoy the entire evolution of this remarkable relationship by ordering DeForest Kelley: A Harvest of Memories today! Order right away to be sure it arrives in time for the convention! Kris will only have ten copies on hand at PlanetXpo (plus a handful of audio book versions). If you want your personal copy signed, bring it along and she will be happy to personalize it to you or to a loved one!

Turn around time from the publisher is 7-10 days for soft cover and 10-14 days for hardbound. By buying direct from the publisher, you can get the hardbound edition for what the soft cover edition will cost you at other on-line retailers! Order online or call the Publisher's Toll Free Order Line: 1-888-280-7715.

Get to know DeForest Kelley through Kristine Smith!

2006-07-31T22:53:00.000-07:00

I met Kristine Smith at a Star Trek convention last summer and was so moved by her description of DeForest Kelley and the excerpts she read from her memoir that I immediately rushed to her table to buy a copy of the book for myself (which she graciously personalized for me)! I was pleased to learn that she will be presenting at the PlanetXpo conference on Friday and contacted her about contributing an excerpt from her book to this blog. As chance would have it, she only lives an hour away from me, so she invited me over to take a look at her DeForest Kelley memorabilia. We spent 4 ½ hours together this afternoon combing through boxes of photographs, personal notes, articles, and other interesting items that once belonged to De. She gave me several photographs to scan for the blog, which I will include tomorrow with an excerpt from DeForest Kelley: A Harvest of Memories. Until then, I will leave you with her description of how Star Trek has changed her world.

Don’t forget, I’m still looking forward to including YOUR story on this blog; so, send it (along with a photo if you have one) to Amy Ulen as soon as possible!

Blog #2 by Kristine M Smith,
Author of DeForest Kelley: A Harvest of Memories

Star Trek and Me
(© 2006 by KM Smith)

Forty years ago, on September 8, 1966, I sat in front of a black and white television set and for the first time heard a riveting adventurer’s creed, “SPACE, THE FINAL FRONTIER. THESE ARE THE VOYAGES OF THE STARSHIP ENTERPRISE…” Little did I know, that evening, that my black and white world was about to explode into full-blown Technicolor and that 40 years later I would be looking back on that date as being among the most significant in my life.

What has this television show done to me and for me? To fully understand what Star Trek meant to many of my generation (we were teenagers at the time), we need a brief look back to the decade in which the series premiered: Star Trek arrived in the mid-60s, when it seemed the United States was very close to coming apart at the seams, thanks to downright scandalous racial injustices, college campus unrest and violence, and various other societal ills too numerous to mention. We had not long before just barely survived the Cuban Missile Crisis, then there was the assassination of President Kennedy; we were embroiled in a divisive Vietnam War; and, in the midst of the series’ first run (in 1968) we suffered the additional assassinations of the slain President’s brother Robert Kennedy (then a candidate for President) and of Martin Luther King Jr., the blacks’ only real hope for a peaceful end to a struggle for equal opportunity and justice that had worn on for more than a century.

Into this nightmare of a pressure cooker stepped Gene Roddenberry’s science fiction series Star Trek, peopled by a cohesive and mutually supportive multi-racial and multinational crew, not only of humans but even a pointy-eared, green-blooded Vulcan. These people got along – not perfectly, but certainly a whole lot better than we were doing in the world in which we were living at the time!

As I watched the series, I couldn’t help but grow hopeful. Forty years later we still have a long way to go, but we’re still here, no small miracle in itself! Star Trek inspired us back then, and still does – gave us hope that one day the world’s people will be united in peaceful, cooperative space exploration (and other pursuits) instead of staring at each other through the sights of a weapon; hope that people will realize we share a limited ecosphere and that we all have the same basic needs: water, food, air, land, and an instinctive need to be heard and understood, to be loved, to feel safe; and a desire to be celebrated, not just tolerated.

Additionally, the lifelong friends I have made as the result of being a Star Trek fan are legion. The ethic of Star Trek sowed into my life an abiding love for a lot of people I would not otherwise have met or even thought much about, as well as a love for a lot of people I may never meet, from all over the world. The emotional bank account from this series’ legacy has by now grown at such a compounded rate of interest that not even terrorists will ever bankrupt it or the hope it has given me for a world at peace. I continue to believe in the potential of mankind to “live long and prosper” despite our differences. We all have much more in common than we have that divides us.

To read a description of the Kelley book, along with reviews, or to order online, please click here: http://www.netcomuk.co.uk/~mdownes/kris/kristinesmith.html.

40 Days until the Star Trek 40th Anniversary!

2006-07-30T20:55:00.000-07:00

In 40 days, hundreds of Star Trek fans will descend upon the Sci-Fi Museum and Space Needle in Seattle to celebrate “the show that changed the world” in an intimate 40th anniversary celebration and conference. As we count down the days in anticipation of meeting our favorite stars up-close and personal, several of the conference presenters and panelists have submitted blog entries to whet our appetites. Yet, this blog is as much about you, the fan, as it is about the “stars” of PlanetXpo’s STAR TREK 40th Anniversary Gala Celebration & Conference. We want to know how Star Trek has changed your world, too! Did you become a doctor in the hope of emulating McCoy’s bedside manner? An engineer so you, too, could be a miracle worker like Scotty? Perhaps you went into the entertainment industry after hearing Uhura’s sultry voice. Or became an Olympic medalist after viewing Sulu’s impressive fencing skills. The possibilities are endless. So, send your story of 500 words or less to Amy Ulen, and you may be selected to appear on this blog. Send a photo, too, if you have one.

We have 40 days until we celebrate 40 years of Star Trek, so we’re kicking off the party with one blog entry each day until we hit 40. Hailing frequencies are open!

Blog #1 by Dr. Seth Shostak,
Senior Astronomer, SETI Institute

There was always something reassuringly campy about that first Star Trek series, and I don’t mean the way they managed to engineer the Enterprise to have exactly 1G of gravity so the crew didn’t walk funny.

For example, there was an enormous wall of flashing lights behind Captain Kirk’s command chair…it looked like a Times Square light-bulb sign after a lobotomy. The lights flashed quickly and, as far as I could tell, pretty much at random. This was, I supposed, important information pertaining to something happening in or around the starship. Very hi-tech, at least in the days before personal computers shrunk all information displays down to 17 inches diagonal measure.

But what did it mean, this ten-foot-high-at-the-shoulder light show? What was it trying to tell the crew, and what human could possibly process that luminous banner of bits? The obvious suggestion – that this was the equivalent of the cockpit displays in an aircraft – seemed ludicrous. So I came to believe that Kirk actually ran the Enterprise with an “on-off” toggle switch under his seat. It was an idea I felt comfortable with – perhaps because it was an interface even I could master.

The campiness was confirmed when one of the Star Trek writers showed up at Caltech for an informal chat one evening with a handful of students. This fellow doled out droll tidbits of pseudo-information (such as the fact that Leonard Nimoy’s ears were real, but William Shatner’s were prosthetic), all of which had the Techers enthralled and bemused. At one point, I asked the affable screenwriter, “well, how fast is Warp 1, 2, etc., anyway?” Mind you, this was before the technical manuals for the show were written, so my question was earnest, honest and true.

“Well,” the writer replied, “Warp 1 is the speed of light. Warp 2 is the speed of light squared. Warp 3 is the speed of light cubed…” It didn’t take long for the students to apply some inductive reasoning and figure out the algorithm. This started my brain reckoning at what Warp number you would careen completely out of the Galaxy before you could even smash the brake pedal.

Fortunately, before I could blurt out the result of my calculation, one of the undergraduates (who were, as everyone knew, much smarter than we grad students) interceded: “So…suppose I define the speed of light as ‘one light-year per year.’ Then Warp 1 is 1. Warp 2 is 1 times 1. Warp 3 is 1 times 1 times 1. Warp 4 is…”

All speeds were the same speed. Warp 10 was no faster than Warp 1. The visitor from Hollywood threw up his hands: “Hey, man, I’m just a writer.”

Every week we watched Star Trek while doing physics problem sets. Outer space became familiar, even friendly. Maybe that was Roddenberry’s intent: to bring to life the ultimate, humanist dream. Facts are, true space – the real “final frontier” – is dark, bitterly cold, enormously vast, and implacably hostile. But not within the monochromatic, occasionally upholstered interior of the Enterprise. Here was a comforting refuge in a cosmos that was both immense and dangerous. It was a warm womb in a perilous world – at least until those flashing lights scrambled your brain.