Star Trek Wars

“Resistance is futile” The Borg

Star Trek Wars

We had finally arrived at the annual Star Trek convention. Our little gang of geeks, all dressed up in their favourite character’s uniforms. Myself as Mr Spock of course, the half human, half Vulcan science officer from the original Star Trek show.

Some of us had been eagerly been awaiting to hit the shopping booths to find new collectibles for their already vast collections. We were scanning the area for familiar faces and hoping to hook up with some of our friends while here.

“Don’t venture too far!” I ordered the others, “The panel is about to begin in two hours and we want front row seats!” I shouted after my team who had already made their ways around the surrounding shopping area.

The one portraying the Captain’s character was far too reckless, not to mention air headed, to lead anyone, let alone herself. So for now, despite the fact of being the first officer in rank, the dubious task of leadership of this ragtag crew had fallen onto me.

I noticed some of our friends a little further and waved at them. They were dressed as Klingons and during the conventions, they were always in full character, speaking nothing but Klingon. Luckily I had mastered the language myself. Let’s just say the conversation with them was, interesting, at best.

***

It was nearly time for the first panel of the day, guest starring one of my favourite actors, William Shatner. Due to my diligence, we had managed to get the front row seats and were now eagerly awaiting for the mighty Shatner to arrive. My crew and I had a few questions for him and if luck would serve us, we would get the opportunity to present them for him.

“Oh. My. God!” ‘Uhura’ was over excited when she joined us finally.

“What?” I asked her.

“You will never guess what I just heard at the juice bar?” She continued.

“Spit it out already!” I was getting anxious.

“Well, the word out there is, that there is a heard of Star Wars fans dressed in Stormtroopers uniforms coming to the convention.” Uhura told us.

“This convention? Our convention? The STAR TREK convention?!” For a Vulcan, my pitch was overly high and my emotions up the roof.

“Yeah and they are led by none other than Darth Vader himself!” She added knowingly.

“When is this supposed to happen?” I asked her, hoping she had better intel than just rumours or gossip.

“Not sure, but I heard this from a reliable source!” She ensured me.

“I need details people! Go and get some proper intel, we still have thirty minutes to go!” I was ordering my crew, who were looking at me like I had lost it, but did as I told them anyway.

After they had left I sat down in defeat and said to myself, “I cannot work like this!” holding my head in my hands feeling a massive migraine coming on.

A little later they returned and confirmed what Uhura had told earlier. The general consensus was, that a group of Star Wars fans were about to invade the convention, but as to when was still uncertain.
We all agreed to keep our eyes and ears open. But for now, concentrate on more urgent matters, such as the panel led by William Shatner.

***

Some fifteen minutes into the panel, where the boring questions were done with, the fans were gearing up for more interesting topics and our turn was coming up soon, it happened.

A character dressed in a black uniform, complete with a cape and helmet and accompanied by roughly twenty odd people dressed in all white plastic uniforms, charged in front.

“Vader!” I stood up from my seat and pounced to the direction where the perpetrators had made their stance.

“Die Trekkies, die!” Darth Vader breathed through his mask and was ready to charge.

“We prefer Trekkers!” I shouted as I charged towards the enemy with full force, my crew not far behind and the other conventionalists joining.

“What ever!” Vader shouted back.

A wrestling match of sorts started, each side showing and pushing each other.

One of the troopers had charged to the stage and managed to bump into Mr Shatner, before he had been able to escape the competitive fan uprising. Our crew was the first to respond to the distress and our resident crew member, the Doctor reached Mr Shatner first. Shatner was laying on the floor, holding his head. The Doctor checked his pulse, then looked at us and back at Shatner again and said:

“You’re dead Jim!”

Mr Shatner looked at him and rolled his eyes: “Right!” Was all he told the smirking ‘Doctor’.

“Are you alright Mr Shatner?” I asked concerned.

“I will be, as soon as I get out from this,” He was waving towards the crowd, “Madness!”

After helping Shatner up and guiding him towards the exit, I and the Doctor joined the rest of our crew, returning to the battle field.

Today is a good day to die!” One of the troopers shouted.

“Hey, that line is from our franchise!” The Doctor from our group responded.

“Yeah! Get your own lines!” Another Trekker added.

And with our faux phasers and light sabers, the Trekkers and the Star Wars fans continued their age long battle, to the proverbial death!

***

Later, sitting confined in one of the empty conference halls, after getting arrested, the bulk of the fans on either side, some three hundred of us in total. No one was saying much. I was also regretting loosing myself and my Vulcan ways engaging in battle rather than trying to solve the issue with logic and peaceful negotiation.

Guess the lesson learnt here is, no matter the franchise or belief, there is always room for all kinds of fandoms and each of us should respect each others’ choices.

trek wars

Stalking is such a Strong Word. Let’s call it… Social Research!

” *Friend request accepted* Let the stalking begin! “

Stalking is such a Strong Word. Let’s call it… Social Research!

Checking your home page
For the umpteenth time
I must have been in a haste
For no updates I find

Just because
My favourites
Are in the ‘Ks’
And my followers
Are in the nays

You may think
I stink
And am
A

Stalker?
Prowler?
Fan Girl?
Just because my toes curl?

Admirer maybe
From a far of course
Devote
And the Art to endorse
Buff or a Rooter
But not a suitor

I hope you are not offended
As I await here expended
And I’d rather
You called me an other

Name,
Without the blame

A
Researcher
of the Individual

Now,
Why did you not
Answer on the spot
To my ping?

social

Serially Found

“Maybe I’m a serial regional writer. First here, then there, across the map”
Richard Ford

Serially Found

There is just
something about you
I am in lust
And only for you

I am finding it impossible
to stay away
Highly improbable
Anything would keep me at bay

I lost you
Luckily
I found you

My little bit of Heaven
By sweet sweet
I am up to seven
My one and only treat

My sweet chocolate bar
In a serial package
You didn’t venture too far
When I was tracking

serially

Related posts:

Serially Lost in Fiction

Reality? Who’s Brilliant Idea Was That?

Simply, Weird

“I’m not even on drugs, I am just weird” Alex Gaskarth

Simply, Weird

Bizarre
Curious
Eerie

Highly Extraordinary

Mismatched
Odd
Peculiar

Still Familiar

Scratchy
Sinful
Strange

Only Natural

Queer
Unusual
Uncanny

Seriously Virtuous

Unearthly
Weird
Whacked

Still, very very Wicked

Or am I simply,
A Special Edition?

weird

Eavesdropping? No, just socially investigating!

“Sometimes I listen to strangers’ conversation and mentally give my opinion”

Eavesdropping? No, just socially investigating!

“By George we made it!” Emma shouted in victory.

“I thought we were lost there for a moment, but here we are. And all in one piece!” Marc added dusting off his jacket.

“Too bad we lost George.” Emma was feeling sorry for the poor guy.

Marc looked at Emma and with a sad voice answered: “The needs of the many, outweigh the needs of the few.”

“Or the one!” Emma added.

Marc hugged Emma as they were standing, both looking into the distance, thoughts on their lost comrade.

***

I was on my way to work, when I stopped by the coffee shop. Waiting for my order I glanced around the place and noticed three intriguing characters in the farthest corner table. Two men and a woman, obviously deep in conversation, planning something from the looks of how they were positioned. Huddled together, serious yet fierce expressions on their faces and looking like they were plotting something.

Being of a curious nature, interested in all human relations, I took a few steps closer, trying to catch a glimpse of what they were talking about.

“This has to go down today!” The woman said loud enough for me to hear from my position.

I was hooked. I inched even closer and secretly hoped my order would take a while to complete.

“Did you check the weapons, made sure we have enough ammo?” The other man asked from the one sitting opposite him.

“All checked boss! I also added an extra ingredient, just to spice things up! Can’t wait to see the other guys’ faces when they get hit!” He responded with a smirk on his lips.

‘Boss, hit, guns?!’

Some kind of heist or mob hit in the planning I wondered. I was shaking a little. The threesome sitting around the table did not look like robbers or mob members, rather like nerds or students. But never judge a book by it’s cover.

The woman then took something out from her bag and laid it on the table. It looked like a map of sorts.

“Are we all clear on our positions at the final stage.” She was pointing at something on the paper to the others.

“What if I change my stance here rather than here.” The other man asked the woman and the one he had called boss.

“No!” The woman raised her voice again. Clearly the other man had been wrong about who the real boss was.

She then continued, “No deviations! We will all stick to the plan as agreed before.”

The man just nodded.

“Excellent!” The woman responded, “Now as to the next…”

Her voice faded to the sounds of new customers coming in to the shop. A loud soccer team had just entered the premises and I could not hear the threesome’s conversation.

And then, my name was called out from the counter. My order was ready.

Pondering whether to ignore it and try to stay a while longer. Then again, it would look suspicious, if I would stand there with my coffee and bagels in my hand. Reluctantly I decided to leave. Maybe there was something in the newspaper tomorrow I could read about. After all, I was no detective, nor law officer. Just an eavesdropper on her way to work!

***

Emma and Marc were standing at the top of the hill holding their guns. They had finally won a battle.

“Poor George!” Marc was looking down at his friend, laying non moving down by the bushes.

“He was brave, right to the end!” Emma credited his fallen friend.
“Guys! A little help, please!” A voice shouted from below.

Emma and Marc looked at each other. Then started their way down the hill. They reached their destination and remained standing there, neither making an effort to help.

“Guys? I am dying here!”

“Well, it’s your own fault!” Marc told him.

“Yeah, you failed to follow the plan and got hit. Right in the forehead no less!” Emma berated him.

“Sorry, guess I should have cut back on the doughnuts!” Was the response of the fallen man, “I felt the energy draining away from me as I was running after you guys.”

Marc offered his hand to his friend and helped him up.

“George, you are a mess. You have paint all over your face!” Marc looked at the dirty face of his friend who had been hit by multiple paint pellets.

“Well, our team still won!” George replied with a big grin.

“We sure did George, we sure did!” Emma patted George on the back, “Thanks for taking one for the team!”

“Now, let’s go and celebrate our victory! Donuts anyone?” Marc added.

“Hear, hear!” The other two replied in unison.

 

social

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor, and a Writer

“I’m a writer and, therefore, automatically a suspicious character” – Alfred Hitchcock

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor, and a Writer

Looking into
A writers mind
You may phew
On what you find

Look in,
Carefully

Surprisingly
Lurking
Emerging

A

Tinker, Tailor,
Soldier, Sailor,
Rich Man, Poor Man,
Beggar Man, Thief

Peeping Tom, Stalker
Pervert, Prude
Sister, Brother
Loud Mouth, Mute

A

Antagonist
Protagonist
Killer, Saviour
Bad behaviour?

Winner, Looser
Coward, Hero
Or simply a Zero?

Storyteller, Liar
Truth teller, Denier

A questionable character?
Or just a clever Actor?
Psychopath,
Or, on a Path?

Writer, Politician, or a Crook?
Did I get you hooked?

hitch

I am the Queen of Fucking Everything

“Careful how you play your card, when you have a queen in your hand”

I am the Queen of Fucking Everything

Who am I?
You dare to ask me?
Or are you playing shy?
Or do you task me?

Do you not know who I am?

I am everyone
And I am no one
I know all
Still I am alone

I own everything
And I own nothing
I rule the world
Yet, I rule nothing
I rule your world
I rule you

I am gorgeous
I am sexy
I am marvellous
I am perplexing
Hardly ordinary
I am, extraordinaire

All the adjectives you can imagine
No one quite my kin

I can do anything
I can do everything
I can go everywhere
You can find me anywhere

And don’t you dare
To disagree with me
Or I will give you the scare
For contradicting me

Why?
You ask

The reason is
this simple thing
I am the Queen of
Fucking Everything!

queen

Back in time

“When I was kid, my social network was called ‘outside’ “

Back in time

This is the work one of pure fiction. Neither polar bears nor reindeer were harmed in the creation of this literary process!
The year was 1924.

Longitude and latitude: Somewhere up north, thataway! The Finnish Lapland would probably be the most accurate location for this tale.

How old was I?

I guess I was somewhere between ten and twelve years of age. In those days, people were born and they died. No one really bothered with the record keeping. Lord knows there were plenty of us to go around.

Despite the fact it was close to midsummer, there was still snow on the ground. The reindeer and polar bears were roaming the streets while us kids were running around, having snowball fights. That is, during the minimum spare time we had between school, chores and work. Sleeping in those days was a luxury. Sometimes we had a full night’s sleep, sometimes the watch duty fell on my plate and I needed to stay up all night. Luckily, coffee had been invented ten years prior and we were all pretty much hooked on the sweet dark liquid.

Our housing for the winter months was an igloo, which the whole family constructed out of ice. Snow was used as plaster to fill in any holes between the blocks of ice. During the summer time, we had a tent like structure made out of bear and deer skin. Unfortunately all of us favoured the winter dwelling for one simple fact: The summer house stunk like a skunk. The choice of material was not a good one, but then, it was depression and all commodities were scarce.

The trip to school, either winter or summer time was made on skis and it was part to the exercise curriculum for all of us still eligible for the classes. A twenty kilometer trip back and forth was not a big deal and was building the strength and endurance nicely. This also came in handy for our after school activities. Some of us went to work in the coal mines, while others were herding rein deer or taking care of their younger siblings.

Each Saturday the Sauna was heated and all the family gathered into the cramped little room, heated up to eighty degrees. We were sitting all butt cheek to butt cheek in the nude on a wooden construct in the small dark room. Only the burning fire in the stove gave some lighting. As a luffa, a loosely tied bunch of birch tree branches with leaves on them was used. Out mother pummeled us with the concoction and me thinks she enjoyed it a little too much. Granted we children gave her grieve sometimes, so I will give her that.

Bathing for us then meant taking dips in the icy, below freezing waters. This, after we had first heated our body temperatures close to baking. Then we ran naked to the lake, where a large hole had been dug into the ice and plunged in.

All in all life was pretty ordinary and uneventful in my childhood, apart from the minor quirks.

Do I miss it? My childhood?

I would rather spend my next holiday on a labour camp!

 

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Time for a Reality Check?

Part Three of REALITY? WHO’S BRILLIANT IDEA WAS THAT?

reality?-rant

“It is strange because sometimes, I read a book, and I think I am the people in the book”

Time for a Reality Check?

So there I was, in the middle of the woods, all by my lonesome. No where to hide, no where to run.
I was in for a challenge. Not only because of me detoxing from the fiction I was greatly hooked up on at this point, but also living in an archaic house without any creature comforts.

I watched the car drive off, and then I was finally alone. Time to start the battle with the demons!
I went inside the wooden cabin finding a layer of dust settling on the surfaces. Sighing deeply and thinking ‘Welcome to the labour camp’. Placing my rucksack on the chair closest to me, I rolled up my sleeves and started cleaning up.

Windows and door open to get the air circulating. Making do with an old broom to swipe the floors. Luckily I had brought some cleaning wipes with me. Those would come in handy while dusting the surfaces.

A few hours later I looked around and the place was spick and span clean. It was time for the evening meal and I was unpacking my bag. I had several cans of food, some crackers and a juice canister. Now all I needed was water and wood!

The rest of my day went pretty much doing chors like cutting wood and hauling water from the well.
A few more hours went by and I was inside getting the wooden stow started. When the fire was burning nicely, I opened one of the cans, pea soup of course, good for any camper!

It was night fall and I had my little oil lamp burning and the fire was going keeping me warm. It had been a little bit of an effort, but luckily some smart Alec had written instructions now hanging on the wall next to fireplace.

So there I was without a care in the world, my stomach full with soup and juice. I was wondering how people managed to get anything else done in the olden days. Most of the daylight hours seemed to be wasted on cleaning and gathering necessities for meal preparation.

Then I realized I needed to use the facilities. Unfortunately there was only an outhouse and it was a bit tricky to navigate there in the dark. I had my torch with me so that helped a little. I just hoped no wildlife were close by feeling peckish and thinking I was food.

The routine for the two week period was pretty much the same every day. Get up at dawn, because the birds were screaming in the trees, hunt and gather for nourishment. The cottage grounds actually had a pretty good assortment of various berries and luckily it was the season for most of them.

In the end, I did not even miss reading, anything, fiction or otherwise. I didn’t have time, when the real life hit me hard, and using a log to do it!

Let’s see what happens when I finally get back home, where all the temptations await me!

reality-check-101-4c

The Observer

“There’s no way to remove the observer – us – from our perceptions of the world” Stephen Hawking

The Observer

I was sitting in the coffee shop, my well-deserved latte in front of me. I was content in emerging into my daily readings on my tablet, but for some reason my eyes kept wandering to the hassle in the bar. Patrons were leaving and new ones were stepping into the shop.

‘Why not!’ I thought. I could play the part of the observer for a little while before continuing my own tasks. Who knows, maybe I would pick up an idea or two for my next writing project.

Sipping my coffee, I noticed the young couple in the corner booth. They were enjoying each others’ company, looking each other in the eye, no words were spoken. New love was in the air.

Feeling like a peeping Tom, I search for something else to gaze upon. My eyes were scanning the room and landed on a woman with three offspring. The mother was deep in thought, or so it seemed, reading the newspaper while her children were throwing napkins, straws and other small items at each other. I wondered how she managed to turn off the surroundings. The patrons at the next table however were not so lucky. Shaking their heads, they grabbed their orders and moved to another table at the farther end the coffee shop.

I laughed a little at the scene played out before me. Good thing I had been thinking ahead and chose the solitary spot close to the windows in the corner. I had a clear view of the whole establishment, but I was also able to concentrate on my reading if I wanted to.

I thought to seek out one more scene before tuning myself out. I noticed the waitresses behind the bar having a heated conversation. I was not able to hear what they were talking about, but clearly the other one was angry about something and kept on ranting, while the other one was just listening in. Wide eyed, nodding every now and again. The angry one was waving her arms in the air, while the quiet one remained stationary, her hands seemed almost glued to her sides. It seemed from an observer’s perspective, the ranter was in charge in that particular relationship, while the listener did just that and probably agreed to everything the ranter told her.

I lost my interest after a little while and noticed the coffee house getting emptier. Guess the rush was over and I could get back to my reading.

observer