Oh, for the days when Star Trek was smaller...
| News Media Commentary | |
|---|---|
| Title: | Oh, for the days when Star Trek was smaller... |
| Commentator: | Jonathan Karp, for The Birmingham News |
| Date(s): | June 7th, 1984 |
| Venue: | |
| Fandom: | Star Trek |
| External Links: | |
| Click here for related articles on Fanlore. | |
Oh, for the days when Star Trek was smaller... is a 1984 newspaper article by Jonathan Karp for "The Birmingham News."
Karp is a self-identified fan, but it doesn't stop him from making a lot of the mainstream press, low-hanging fruit observations about weird fans and their pointy Vulcan ears.
The article is also an example of how fans really couldn't win; they're chided for being too quirky but not holding on to their quirkiness, being unable to be "normal" but also becoming too normal and mainstream, and reading People Magazine! Fans are both criticized for thinking too much, being too brainless, and then thinking too much, or too little, about the right things.
Some Topics Discussed
- the upcoming third Star Trek movie, The Search for Spock
- fans as fat, as an "ethnic parade of extras who flaunt their tight-fitting, fast food costumes"
- fans as obsessed with trivia and minutia, who "showed real character to memorize each episode, [and] point out the deep symbolism involved"
- fans as careless with their money and willing to spend too much money on fannish pursuits, "reduced to just another consumer group" - "...once a Trekkie was part of an embattled minority fighting for a vision. Now Trekkies are many people who stand in line, buy a ticket, and consume concessions. I want my quirkiness back. I want to suffer again."
- Star Trek fandom as a cult
- Captain Kirk as a John Kennedy persona
- Captain Kirk as a womanizer
- fans being satisfied with "fourth grade symbolism, complete with cold war analogies, pleas for racial tolerance and the constant affirmation of the human need for adventure"
- pokes at the actors getting old, fat, and senile
- the author doesn't want to watch Kirk in a mid-life crisis, or worse, be an older man who "flirted with some menopausal scientist" -- he'd rather see Kirk chase young, elegant aliens
- the author feels used by the newer films
From the Article
It's really rather cliche to call oneself a Trekkie, aspiring to a fandom of tribbles, pointy ears, and an ethnic parade of extras who flaunt their tight-fitting fast food costumes.
Oh, sure, once it was definitely vogue to stay up late for reruns of Star Trek, one of the classic television shows of the 1960’s. It showed real character to memorize each episode, point out the deep symbolism involved, and watch Captain Kirk and company nuke the Klingons.
Some very smart people probably sold their intergalactic souls for admission to those nifty Star Trek conventions, hoping to gaze at their stars and pick up any gossip about whether the greatest ensemble since Lucy, Ricky, Fred and Ethel would reunite.
But now, with a biennial Star Trek movie coldly packaged by Paramount, the Trekkie cult has been reduced to just another consumer group. Once, Trekkies could fantasize, whine, and protest for their product, always hoping that some rich producer would hear their message. Trekkies were sci-fi Met fans, apolitical, products of the counter-culture, and junk-food pop artists.
Now Trekkies are People magazine readers who interrupt their pop culture orbit every two years to wait in line six hours for another motion picture presentation. Once a brave cause to battle the networks, Trekdom has all the political impact of a bon bon, and all the artistic drive of a synth-pop Hollywood soundtrack. Anyone who pays four bucks can be a Trekkie today.
I freely admit I once was a Trekkie. I attended a Star Trek store in New York and bought a guide to each episode, which I then checked after every viewing. I took my first girlfriend, a skinny biologist who kept beating me at Monopoly, to a bona-fide [[Star Trek convention]], where I bought a color photo of Mr. Chekov. I even read a book about meaning in Star Trek.
Did you know that Captain James Kirk is a Kennedy figure? It’s true. Notice the matching initials, the same golden brown receding hairline, and the charismatic nature. Even their youthfulness is similar. Kirk was the youngest starship captain ever. Kennedy was our youngest president. Kirk was in love with his ship. Kennedy was in love with his country. They both fooled around a lot.
I long to return to those days when I would plant myself in front of the tube with a bowl of macaroni and cheese, watch Kirk stick out his chest, Spock lift his eyebrow, and McCoy vent his spleen. I even miss the fourth grade symbolism, complete with cold war analogies, pleas for racial tolerance, and the constant affirmation of the human need for adventure. I’ll never forget Captain Kirk pounding his fist on thee table and preaching at his cautious crew: "Risk, gentlemen," he said, "risk is our business. That’s why we joined the Enterprise. That’s why we’re aboard her."
For me, it was a cathartic moment. I can’t help but feel disappointed by the recent attempts to resuscitate the crew of the Enterprise. They’ve died Kirk’s hair some chocolate color and curled it so his baldness doesn’t show. Spock’s voice sounds older. Scotty looks like he’s been exposed to gamma rays. And McCoy just sounds senile.
Call me a hopeless traditionalist, but I miss everything that was small about the television show. I liked the scratchy film and the annoying background music that swelled every time the fate of the universe was up for grabs. Now I’m stuck with Dolby stereo and Panavision for two hours. I’m sorry, but full symphonies do not belong in space.
They also recushioned the chairs on the bridge. They enlarged the screen. And they revamped the transporter room. We never see Kirk getting chased around planets anymore. All they do is make the same old Vulcan jokes, watch attacking ships on that screen, and talk vaguely about the human condition. I want my heroes to sweat a little. In The Wrath of Khan, Captain Kirk suffers a midlife crisis. Did I really need that in my escapism? And I certainly didn’t need him flirting with some menopausal scientist who gushed for two hours. Kirk should still chase those elegant, green aliens, seduce them, and then take off for his next mission. That’s how he got to be a starship captain.
Call me a conservative, but I miss the old schlock. Of course, I’ll watch the new movie, just as I rushed out and stood in line five hours for the first two ventures. Even I admit that I will probably love Star Trek III: The Search for Spock. But part of me will be wishing they’d spent only $100,000, came down to some planet, fought oppressiveness with their hands, not their phasers, cracked a few jokes, hit me over the head with symbolism, and saved the world. I’m tired of watching Kirk order the photon torpedoes. It’s not that exciting, and it makes me feel used.
After all, once a Trekkie was part of an embattled minority fighting for a vision. Now Trekkies are many people who stand in line, buy a ticket, and consume concessions. I want my quirkiness back. I want to suffer again.
Call me a conservative, but I miss the old schlock. Of course, I’ll watch the new movie, just as I rushed out and stood in line five hours for the first two ventures. I’ll even admit that I will probably love Star Trek III: The Search for Spock. But part of me will be wishing they’d spent "only" $100,000, beamed down to some planet, fought oppressiveness with their hands, not their phasers, cracked a few jokes, hit me over the head with symbolism, and saved the world. I'm tired of watching Kirk-order the photon torpedoes. It’s not that exciting, and it makes me feel used.
After all, once a Trekkie was part of an embattled minority fighting for a vision. Now Trekkies are many people who stand in line, buy a ticket, and consume concessions. I want my quirkiness back. I want to suffer again.