From the Vault: “…because Next Generation FUCKING RULES!”

I'm digging into The Vault for stories to tell next week when I perform on JoCoCruiseCrazy 2: The Encrazening, and I caught myself reading this story, which I wrote and published in Dancing Barefoot, when I was a baby writer almost ten years ago. 

This is from The Saga of SpongeBob Vega$ Pants (or: How I learned to Stop Worrying and Love Star Trek) also: Put Some Thought Into What You Name Things, Kids, Because You May Find Yourself Telling a Story With A Stupid Title Ten Years After You Wrote It.

I sit at my table, uncap my sharpie, and put on my gameface. 

My pen hand is strong. I'm ready to be witty, charming and friendly. Although the actual number of autographs I've signed over the years is probably close to half a million, I am ready to make these fans feel like the autograph I'm currently signing is the only one I've signed all day, maybe the only one I've signed in my whole life.

Over the years, I've learned something from this experience: it's never about the signature. It's about that brief moment, that brief encounter with a Star Trek cast member, that is so important to the fans. That 30 seconds or so of hopefully undivided attention is what they're really paying for, and I always do my best to make sure they get their money's worth. Contrary to popular belief, sitting at a table signing hundreds of autographs for several hours without a break is hard. It's not just mindlessly scrawling my name; It's stopping and listening to the always excited, sometimes shaking, always sweating, sometimes scary dude who wants to know exactly why I did “X” on episode “Y” and would I please sign his picture in silver, because Marina signed it in gold and now he wants the men in silver and the women in gold, and I hated your character and here are 25 reasons why and I expect an answer for each one of them and I'm not leaving until I'm satisfied.

The fans come down what amounts to an assembly line, stopping at a table, enjoying their 30 seconds of attention and trading a ticket for an autograph. They move to the next table, and repeat.

I personally think that this “assembly line” method, while the only one that really works, has the potential to totally suck for the fans. 

The first one hundred or so who come through the line will get to see a smiling, effusive, friendly actor, and will leave feeling happy and satisfied. Those unlucky ones who are at the end of the line risk seeing actors who are tired, with cramped hands and degraded signatures. 

It is a challenge for me, but I always remind myself that the last fans through the line have paid as much as the first fans, and they've also waited much longer, so they are the ones that I need to give the most attention to when I am the most drained. I know that as I get toward the end of the line, my humor slows down, and my voice fades. I know that I've let down my fair share of people over the years, but I always do my best. 

I see the first fan walking down the hallway, trading tickets and getting signatures from actors. I watch her as she goes table to table. She's not wearing a spacesuit . . . that's a good sign. She has a witty sci-fi T-shirt on. Also a good sign. 

She arrives at my table, and I cheerfully say, “Hi! How are you doing today?!”

“AWFUL! THIS IS THE WORST CONVENTION I HAVE EVER BEEN TO! I HATE DAVE SCOTT! I HATE LAS VEGAS! I HATE THIS CONVENTION!”

Oh boy. This is not the way I'd hoped to start out.

I try to soothe her. “Uhh . . . I think . . . that . . . this convention . . . just started . . . and . . . uhh . . . I'm sure that if you talk to Dave, everyt–”

“DAVE SCOTT IS AN ARROGANT ASSHOLE!”

“Uh . . . yeah . . . well, you see, the thing is, I'm sort of not exactly involved in the planning of this convention, you know? I'm just, like, a guest . . . maybe you could try talk–”

“THIS IS THE MOST FAN-UNFRIENDLY CONVENTION I HAVE EVER BEEN TO!”

And she storms away, without an autograph, without another word.

I look at Marina, who's one table down from me. Angry Fan has stormed past her, too. Marina shrugs, and I make the international sign for “crazy person” by twirling my finger near my temple.

I hear a man clear his throat, and I look up to see a smiling middle-aged face. He has a dark beard, and is dressed as Commander Riker. 

He gives his autograph ticket to the staffer sitting next to me, and asks me to sign his model of the Enterprise D. He thanks me, and moves along.

And so it is in the world of Star Trek conventions. One person will scream at me, and the next will want to give me a hug. A person will walk up dressed in an elaborate Borg costume, and the next person will be dressed in a T-shirt and Dickies, quietly laughing at “all the weirdos.”

For the next three hours, I sign pictures of the young, geeky Wesley Crusher. I sign posters of the teen heartthrob that I'm told I once was. I sign posters that I'm not even on, in silver because everyone else did, accepting the apologies from the poster owners that I'm not on the poster. I always answer with the same joke: “That's okay, you just can't see me, because I'm on this planet here . . .” They laugh and feel good and so do I.

A group of very attractive German girls comes over next, and two of them tell me, in broken English, how much they love me.

I think, Oh yeah, tell me some more, baby. Tell daddy how you love him. Ich bin ein sexmachiner!

What?

I am so sorry. I have no idea where that came from. I apologize.

There are also 20 Japanese kids who've all come over together from Tokyo. They are all smiles and laughter, excited, and having a great time. The girls ask me to write their names on their picture when I sign it, they giggle and bow and blush and thank me, over and over. For a second, I feel like a rock star. 

One of the Japanese kids is a boy, about my height. When he presents his Wesley Crusher action figure for my signature, he tells me, “My friend all say I am you twin!”

He smiles proudly. “We look just the same!”

Last time I checked, I wasn't Japanese, but I'm not about to tell him that. I look at him for a moment and reply, “Dude. You are so right. It's like I'm looking in a mirror!” 

He turns to his friends, says something in Japanese, and they all share an excited murmur. I pick up my pen, and write: “To Hiroyuki, my long lost twin brother: Don't Panic! -Wil Wheaton.”

He thanks me over and over. His smile is so huge, I fear that his face will turn inside out. As he walks away from my table, I feel happy – I've brought joy into this kid's life, just by signing my name and being friendly. It's one of the few perks (or responsibilities, if you will) that comes with celebrity that I truly enjoy.

ϑ ϑ ϑ

 

About 200 or so people into the day, I have one of those memorable “battlefield” experiences; the kind that we Star Trek actors share during a layover in Chicago, after a convention in Cleveland.

I've just finished signing a poster for a 40-ish man who is wearing a spacesuit that is a little to tight across the waist. He's painted his face blue, and donned a white wig topped with antennae, like the Andorians from the original Star Trek. The next person in line is a woman in her 30s, dressed conservatively.

I say hello, and she smiles at me . . . until she sees my T-shirt. Then she becomes hysterical. She points at my shirt and screeches at me, “You are going to hay-ell! You are going to hay-ell!”

“Why am I going to hell, ma'am?” I ask, trying to figure out if she is joking. I am wearing a black T-shirt with a picture of a hand making rock-and-roll devil horns that says, “Keep Music Evil.” I think it's very funny, and it's a nice counter-point to the squeaky-clean image of Wesley Crusher that is so indelibly burned into these people's minds.

“You're wearing that shirt! And that shirt promotes SATAN!”

Okay, she's definitely not joking.

“So I'm going to hell because I'm wearing a shirt? Is that right?” I ask her, patiently.

“Yes! You! Are! Going! To! HAY-ELL!”

“Well, as long as I'm not going where you are, ma'am.”

And she leaves, but not without getting my signature, on her collectible plate, in gold ink, not silver, because John DeLancie signed his in silver, so now silver is the color reserved for “Q.” Nobody else can sign in silver. Not even a captain. Well, maybe Captain Picard, but not Captain Janeway.

I am able to contain my giggles until she is out of ear-shot.

“Is it always like this?” the staffer sitting at my table inquires.

“Nope. Sometimes it's really weird.”

We laugh, and the signing goes on.

And on.

And on.

This next part is from when I went on the stage later that same afternoon. It still makes me laugh.

“I have the limited edition Star Trek Monopoly game.” I say.

“Of course, it's a limited edition of 65 million. But it's extremely valuable, because I got a number under 21 million.”

They laugh. It's funny, because it's true.

I go one better. “Plus, it's got a certificate of authenticity signed by Captain Picard!

“Yes, that's right, my Star Trek Monopoly game, which I've rendered worthless by opening, comes with a certificate of authenticity signed in ink by a fictional character.”

I see a guy in the front row say something to his buddy, and they both nod their heads and laugh.

“Cool thing about the game, though, is that there is a Wesley Crusher game piece in it, and the first time we sat down to play it as a family, Ryan grabbed Wesley and proclaimed, as only an 11-year-old can, 'I'm Wil!! I'm Wil!! Nolan!! I'm all-time Wil!! I call it!!'”

I see some people smile. I start to pace the stage. I'm hitting my stride, and the stories flow out of me.

“One time, when we were renegotiating our contracts, we were all asking for raises.

“We all felt a salary increase was appropriate, because The Next Generation was a hit. It was making gobs of money for Paramount,” (I like that word – gobs) “and we felt that we should share in that bounty.

“Of course, Paramount felt otherwise, so a long and annoying negotiation process began.

“During that process, the producers’ first counteroffer was that, in lieu of a raise, they would give my character a promotion, to lieutenant.”

I pause, and look around. I wrinkle my brow, and gaze upward.

“What? Were they serious?”

A fan hollers, “Yeah! Lieutenant Crusher! Woo!” 

I smile back at him.

“My agent asked me what I wanted to do. I told him to call them back and remind them that Star Trek is just a television show.”

Okay, that was risky to say. It's pretty much the opposite of just a television show to these people, but they giggle.

“I imagined this phone call to the bank,” I mime a phone, and hold it to my ear. “Hi . . . Uh, I'm not going to be able to make my house payment this month, but don't worry! I am a lieutenant now.” I pause, listening to the voice on the other end.

“Where? Oh, on the Starship Enterprise.”

I pause.

“Enterprise D, yeah, the new one. Feel free to drop by Ten Forward for lunch someday. We'll put it on my officer's tab!”

Laughter, and applause. My time is up, and Dave Scott stands at the foot of the stage, politely letting me know that it's time for me to go.

The fans see this, and I pretend to not notice him.

“In 2001, startrek.com set up a poll to find out what fans thought the best Star Trek episode of all time was. The competition encompassed all the series. The nominated episode from Classic Trek was City On The Edge Of Forever. The entry for The Next Generation was Best of Both Worlds Part II. DS9 offered Trials and Tribble-ations, and Voyager weighed in with Scorpion II.”

As I name each show, various groups of people applaud and whistle, erasing any doubt as to what their favorite show is.

“Now, look. I know that Star Trek is just a TV show. Matter of fact, I'm pretty sure I just said that five minutes ago, but there was no way I was going to let my show lose. It just wasn't going to happen. Especially not to Voyager – er, V'ger, I mean.”

I pause, and look out at the crowd. I wonder if Mr. “V'ger” is out there.

“So I went into my office, sat at my computer for 72 straight hours, and voted for TNG over and over again.

“I didn't eat, and I didn't sleep. I just sat there, stinky in my own filth, clicking and hitting F5, a Howard Hughes for The Next Generation.

“Some time around the 71st hour, my wife realized that she hadn't seen me in awhile and started knocking on the door to see what I was doing. 

“'Nothing! I'm, uh, working!' I shouted through the door. Click, Click, Click . . . 

'I don't believe you! Tell me what you've been doing at the computer for so long!'

“I didn't want her to know what I was doing – I mean, it was terribly embarrassing . . . I had been sitting there, in crusty pajamas, voting in the Star Trek poll for three days.”

Some people make gagging noises, some people “eeww!” But it's all in good fun. They are really along for the ride, now. This is cool.

“She jiggled the handle, kicked at the bottom of the door, and it popped open!”

The audience gasps.

“I hurriedly shut down Mozilla, and spun around in my chair.

“'What have you been doing on this computer for three days, Wil?' she said.”

I look out across the audience, and pause dramatically. I lower my voice and confidentially say, “I was not about to admit the embarrassing truth, so I quickly said, 'I've been downloading porn, honey! Gigabytes of porn!'”

I have to stop, because the ballroom rocks with laughter. It's a genuine applause break! 

“She was not amused. 'Tell me the truth,' she said.

“I sighed, and told her that I'd been stuffing the ballot box in an online Star Trek poll.

“'You are such a dork. I'd have been happier with the porn.'

“I brightened. 'Really?'

“'No,' she said. She set a plate of cold food on the desk and walked out, muttering something about nerds.

“I stayed in that office for another ten hours, just to be sure. When my eyes began to bleed, I finally walked away. It took several weeks of physical therapy before I could walk correctly again, but it was all worth it. Best of Both Worlds Part II won by a landslide.”

I pause dramatically, and the theatre is silent.

“And it had nothing to do with my stuffing the box. It's because Next Generation FUCKING RULES!”

I throw my hand into the air, making the “devil horns” salute that adorns my satanic T-shirt, and the audience leaps to their feet, roaring with applause and laughter.

I can't believe it. I started out so badly, but I got the audience back on my side. I say thank you, give the microphone to Dave Scott, who is now sitting on the stage pointedly checking his watch, and exit, stage left.

 

ϑ ϑ ϑ

 

I'm a very different person now than I was when I wrote it, in every single way that matters (and a lot that probably don't). I cringe a little bit at some of the ways I wrote back then, but it's the best I could do at the time, and I'm proud of it, and the 29 year-old who struggled to write it.

Reading this stuff today made me feel strange, but also good, It's sort of like I was looking in a mirror that held a reflection within it for ten years, but let a little bit out today, just for me.

25 thoughts on “From the Vault: “…because Next Generation FUCKING RULES!””

  1. I’ve often wondered how the other side feels.. I came to the ultimate answer within myself several years ago that the autograph doesn’t matter to me, it’s seeing the person look me in the eye and just sharing a space in time in the universe and knowing that for that moment I mattered to someone I admire. thanks for giving it your all to the last fan in line!

  2. Every damn writer cringes at the way they wrote in the past. I came across an old fanwork of mine, and wasn’t even brave enough to open it. Your worst (and Dancing Barefoot is no where near that) is still awesome.
    And my copy has particulates of Ferris’s hair in it! Woo!

  3. I’ve met you several times at cons and I think the reason fans keep coming back to see you (Not that your beard isn’t already an awesome site to behold) is that you give them more than that thirty seconds of time. Many of my friends who come early to the show floors of cons have told me how you’ll just sit there and gab joyfully when there’s nothing going on and it’s the highlight of their entire con adventure. Not to mention your blog, twitter hijinks, and extended work with well known online personas. You keep yourself in the spotlight but in such a way that it’s not annoying or self centered, but in a way like you’re saying “I’m here to entertain you and I’m having a hellova time time doing it.” And despite dealing with fans who know how to push your buttons (Kids, don’t go to Comicon bothering Wil outside of functions) you handle it with great care and professionalism.
    For that we are grateful.
    Keep being awesome.
    P.S. that signing story kills me every time.

  4. I can’t even begin to imagine how boring it could be sitting at a table for hours and attempting to be nice to people.
    That’s why when I met you at Dragon*Con I decided to liven things up by knocking over your sign and pretending my camera wasn’t working. (Okay the camera really wasn’t working correctly but I am sticking to my original story.)
    On another note. I love when you pull things from your vault. It’s great to see how your writing style has changed over the years.

  5. You are a fantastic writer Wil, that even shows in the “old” stuff. If you have it, you have it; do not deny yourself the pride in the talent you have. Hopefully I’ll catch you at some Con or other event someday. Oh and obligatory “cough// Memories of the Future Vol 2 //cough//cough”

  6. Great read (even if I’ve read it many times before)! :)
    And BTW…I’ve never been to a con and I generally avoid any discussions on what Star Trek show is the best. But I do recall watching an auction on TV a few years ago that featured various costumes, items and ship models used during the filming of the various ST series. And if my memory is operating within normal parameters, the particular model of Enterprise which received the highest bid pretty much put to the rest what the world considers the fuckingest rulesest Star Trek show of them all. ;)

  7. I’m a long time lurker, first time poster.
    It’s funny I have the same throat bug :) *cough* Volume 2 please *cough*
    I’ve been re-reading Volume 1. With the release of TNG Season 1 on Blu-ray coming mid-year I would really like Volume 2 to read along with it…
    Also have you seen any of new TNG remastered stuff yet Wil? From the sampler Blu-ray that was released last month, TNG looks better than ever :)

  8. I hear you Matt. I am actually watching “The Sins of the Father” right now from The Next Level sampler. It is shocking how well it looks, I cannot wait for the complete seasons to start rolling out on Blu-Ray.

  9. Interesting to read about the other side. I’ve had good experiences at cons except for one (I’m looking at you, Billy Dee Williams).
    I promise not to bring a Tiger Beat photo for you to sign in Calgary!

  10. That cringing you’re talking about is called ‘critical distance,’ and it’s a natural, even necessary, part of the development of a writing persona. Each term, I encourage my composition students to go dig out something they wrote back in high school, and their reactions are pretty much universally as you describe here: an admixture of pride in what one tried to do as a writer and embarassment at how far short one always falls of those aspirations.
    The Romantic poet Percy Bysshe Shelley used to burn his manuscripts in despair at his inability to find the proper words to convey his thoughts. Give yourself some slack, and credit for growth. The very fact that you can see space for improvement in earlier writing means you’re still committed to crafting that writing voice. Consider how insufferable one might be who thought he was beyond improvement.
    – A.

  11. I know that writers often say these things and I know that it is a real feeling but I wish (inwardly) that they would illustrate it. Really, Mr. Tolkien? You would have written that all differently now? Can you show me? That, to me, would be interesting and illustrative.

  12. Literary and media history are full of examples. Compare Keats’ revision of La Belle Dame sans Merci, or Coleridge’s addition of explanatory gloss to his Rime of the Ancient Mariner. Robert Heinlein totally revamped Stranger in a Strange Land for republication. Charles Dickens changed the ending of Great Expectations. Alfred Hitchcock remade The Man Who Knew Too Much from scratch. Kate Bush re-recorded the vocal to Wuthering Heights. Stephen King greatly revised and expanded The Stand. George Lucas won’t stop tinkering with Star Wars. And of course the ‘rebooting’ craze in film and tv has hit every franchise from Star Trek to Spiderman.
    Self-revision is an integral part of the artistic process.
    – A.

  13. Some of those sound interesting (not Dickens … and probably not Keats). I never knew about them. Thanks. I’m not sure I always count the comic book reboots because the creative talent may have changed and it’s more a re-imagination of a archetype. I guess I still struggle with the concept of the better. I am not sure I could read something one author wrote and compare it to a later revised version and really pick out what makes the later one “better” (assuming it is better). I don’t know. It’s something that fascinates me.

  14. Wil,
    If you struggled to write that piece, it doesn’t show when I read the piece, and it REALLY doesn’t show when YOU read the piece.
    Nice blog

  15. For what it’s worth, Wil, Barefoot remains one of my favourites of all your books. It’s brave and honest and funny, and it resonated with me quite a bit. That’s something you should definitely be proud of, even if the writing *does* make you cringe a bit.

  16. “‘Is it always like this?’ the staffer sitting at my table inquires.
    ‘Nope. Sometimes it’s really weird.’”
    This is why my wife and I made sure to get your autograph at Dragon*Con. Even if you’re not thrilled with how you wrote back then (I’m a composer, and when I hear the music I wrote at 29 versus what I’m writing now at just-shy-of-39), there are those flashes of what will be your fully-developed writing style. Don’t stop writing. Ever.
    WF

  17. I remember you writing somewhere that most fans don’t get autographs for the autographs, it’s for the connection, however brief, with someone who has enriched their lives.
    I was at W00tstock 2.8 in Boston (yes, one of the ones that you couldn’t make it to — don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you (although I hope we get another chance to see you)), and bought something so that I could get the autographs. It was mostly to meet Adam and Grant, with whom I share a mutual friend (although it was cool to meet Marian Call, who actually followed me (@mlv) on Twitter, which was cool).
    But I remember for, it seemed, a YEAR afterwards, I replayed those few seconds I had with them wishing I had said something different, or wondering what might have happened if I had.
    And the signatures still matter. I still have the poster of course. Of course, it has a noticeable gap in the autographs… (oh, sorry, I’ll stop talking about that!).

  18. Oh I almost forgot! You were also AMAZING in the “wares” hall the one time I made it to an L.A. Con. My sister, bro-in-law and both nephews thought you were great and MUCH better than that sweaty old bast Shatner… (Who was forced to take a picture with my family and I while I was sporting one of your “My Name is William F*cking Shatner” shirts! Rock On! ;)

  19. I’m proud to say, I’ve been an avid reader of your blog for… well, since before it’s “Exile.” I have greatly enjoyed watching your personal, and professional life as well as your writing style mature over the years. So, thank you.

  20. Reading your blog, twitterstuff,facebook page, google+ and so on for the past few hours, Multitasking it with many other things on three screens, i found myself feeling personally adrressed in some way. One of your articles speaks of people like me.
    I’m one of them who never knew anything about you before Encounter at Faroint and who hasn’t encountered any of your other work since (though in my defence there’s not that much of your work that made it to my country, save the guest appearances in Numb3rs and criminal . oh and the Big Bang Theory, but i never really thaught you were acting there… it’s just you.
    Since i’ve decided to stop with all the socialmedia activity on the Weird wacky web except for Facebook and twitter, i’ve started following trek-actors and writers in twitter. You were followed by Levar Burton i think and that’s how i came to land my click on the links that send me into your part of the www. The first thing i read though was this one:
    http://wilwheaton.typepad.com/wwdnbackup/2009/01/unintended-consequences.html
    And i thaught i wasn’t understanding things correctly. It sounded like you were bashing Wesley Crusher and like you hated him.
    The next thing i read was:
    http://wilwheaton.typepad.com/wwdnbackup/2012/02/im-on-a-boat-when-the-mcp-was-just-a-chess-program.html
    Making me wonder how someone with such an amazingly simular background (at least in social life and gaming experience/likes) could be so different in our opinion of Wesley. Ofcourse the next thought reminded myself that i’ve never been Wesley or treated as if i was by anyone. Then i read the article where you describe some of what goes on at Conventions:
    http://wilwheaton.typepad.com/wwdnbackup/2012/02/from-the-vault-because-next-generation-fucking-rules.html
    Which, added to the one bashing Wesley, surprised me even more. It’s not ignorance which causes him to hate Wesly Crusher and his role in Startrek. Was a thought coming through.
    Whatever was going on, and however it had happened, i had no choice but to try and find out. I didn’t understand and that was all there was to it until i did understand!
    Then i read this article:
    http://wilwheaton.typepad.com/wwdnbackup/2009/11/in-which-a-fairly-major-secret-is-made-secret-no-more.html
    which made total sense to me in every way, in complete disregard of the Wil Wheaton i had in my mind after reading the first articles.
    That last article shows me you are very very much like me when it comes to trek. Especially this line “(…) I mean, I was working for JJ freakin’ Abrams on Star frekin’ Trek (…)” says you’re no different than me.
    except for the other articles then…
    Now i am confused, and thought the best thing to do is just to go:”What gives man? Tell me straigt, simple and for dummies what the facts are.” and hope there’s going to be an answer.
    How do you….. how did you come to feel that referring to you as “Wesly Crusher” is insulting to you? I can’t understand how anyone could be anything but proud as hell at being Wesly Crusher! I do know that Leonnard Nimoy had simular problems, and wrote “i am not Spock” because of it.
    But i also know he wrote “I am Spock” and now feels he’s grateful and privileged to have been part of something that had such a profound impact on the lives of people (like astronauts and nasa scientists that were inspired to become astronaut or work for Nasa because of Startrek) and i remember docu’s and interviews with both Shatner and Doohan in which they express the same feelings.
    You, as Wesly, have had the honor of taking part in the creation of an expanding universe that has been expanding since 1966 and continues to expand today 46 years later.
    Maybe it would help you with your eehm issues with Wesly if you’d know what Wesley was to me, and still is in many ways. You see i’m as good as 38 years old now and when Encounter at Farpoint came out i was 14 or 15 years old. I was… dare i say it… i was a Star Wars fan (owned every piece of Star Wars toy sold in my immediate neigbourhood) really enjoyed Templeton Peck twice a day (In Battlestar Galactica and the A-Team) and was ready to see the latest and best to hit Science Fiction in decades: Star Trek The Next Genereation.
    I was sitting ready, in the leather easy chair in the living room with my parents chased out of the house for coffee to the neighbours, a bag of raiders (these days they’re called Twix) and 3 liters of CocaCola. And tried to get immersed into the final frontier with all the lights out.
    It didn’t really happen. I was all “nice graphics” and “that’s no Kirk!” and “They’ve forgotten someone like Spock and Bones, the ones making TOS bearable to watch” and though i didn’t dislike it i wasn’t connecting to it.
    To this day i have no idea why, and i’ve never even consciously thought about it before but since i read you bashing Wesly i did some thinking. And it turns out there were only 2 things that lead to the, sometimes worrying, love and entausiasm (fanatism, obsession some might say) for Star Trek i have today. One is that Encounter at Farpoint was a 2 part episode, and i absolutely hate it to the bone when i read to be continued halfway through a story, so that made me watch episode 2.
    But thát wasn’t the thing that clinched it and hooked me to startrek like a fish. Thát my dear Wesly Crushed hat0r was YOU! 19 minutes into the episode Wesly tels Picard what the controls on the Captain’s chair do and surprises everyone with how much he knows about the ship and how intelligent he is. That was the moment my mind’s eye superemposed me onto the bridge of the NCC1701-D and when i connected with StarTrek. From that moment on the power that ANY Startrek (written, filmed, spoken, or played) had to have me imagining myself in that era, those situations and know how i’d act is like nothing i’ve ever heard described.
    And thát’s all because not only were you around my age and did you pretty much do the thing i’d do (i mean, you’re 15 and moving to live on not only the most advanced starship there is but also the flagship of the Federation… OFCOURSE the kid knows everything he can possibly have learned from any source he can get access to! Why is everyone surprised?)
    Your acting at the time as well as the way it was written now looks undeniably stiff, awckward, and maybe even a bit forced but that’s exactly how a 15 year old expects to feel and act when his mother meets someone very important from the past who allso turns out to be the flagships Captain. Add to that the fact Wesly was on the bridge, which was usually prohibited and a 15 year old in that situation? Study yourself in that scene but imagine it’s not you on the screen but some actor you’ve never seen before and then tell me it was badly written and or poor in any way and i’ll accept that we’ll eternally differ in opinion.
    Oef this has become a long piece of text! i apologize and will hurry an end to it. I’ll refrain from asking any more and hope that you 1: understand what i mean and what i’m confused about and 2: will be able to make me understand and take away my confusion.
    (last remark: I’m asking because what you have, being forever inextricably part of Startrek, is what i aspire to the most. Simply having my name and creation in the most read fanmagazine (the UFP’s Federation Herald) was one of the prouder moments in my life. Can you imagine if my name was printed on the cover of a novel?
    Even i Can’t imagine the feeling i’d feel, when my name scrols over the screen before or after an episode of Startrek or Movie.

  21. omg, if you hadn’t been as good as Wesly, i’d have been asleep now for the past 4 hours at least instead of awake for allmost 30 hours now. Carnaval is taking casualties today :P

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