I once saw a man smoking crack out of a Coke can in the upper deck of McAfee Coliseum. That’s how my fascination with addicts began. From that moment on I’ve spent much of my free time trolling flophouses so I can form meaningful bonds with their wild and wacky inhabitants. While I certainly enjoy spending some quality time with junkies, I never thought I’d actually live with one.
The first step towards correcting a problem is recognizing that you have one. My roommates have a problem. They’re addicted to “Star Trek.” At all hours of the day a “Trek” fiend can be found getting high in our living room. He administers his drug in a very routine manner. First he turns off the lights and closes the blinds, because every Trekker knows that human contact is a very bad thing. Once he’s secured the holodeck, the Trek fiend inserts a “Star Trek” DVD into the DVD player and turns on the television. He then sits on the couch and immerses himself in the world of “Trek”.
It sounds innocent enough, but this ugly addiction comes with severe consequences. My roommate used to be a raging sodomite. This all changed when he discovered Spock and the gang. Now all he does is wander around the house in his underwear spouting quotes from “Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country.” He doesn’t seem to know that this title is actually in reference to his genitals, which have remained undiscovered since the onset of his “Trek” binge. He’s so far gone that he doesn’t even know his own name. He swears that his name is Wesley Crusher and that he was sent to Earth on a mission to eat large amounts of feces. That’s how strong the “Star Trek” obsession can be.
I eventually realized that I couldn’t beat the “Trek” menace, so I joined it. I sat down and watched every film in our extensive “Star Trek” library. I half-expected the massive doses of “Trek” to turn me into an awkward dork, but I quickly realized that I already was an awkward dork. “Star Trek” was merely the next step towards total nerddom. It actually worked wonders for me. It cleared up my thoughts and provided previously unreachable levels of lucidity. I suddenly knew the answers to all of life’s big questions. Is there a God? Yes, his name is James T. Kirk. What’s the meaning of life? Seven of Nine. What’s that thing on LeVar Burton’s face? A visor.
You can’t get this kind of knowledge in college. Go ahead and ask your physics professor about the Borg cube and its unique use of radium-isotope overdrive particles. He’ll probably laugh you right out of his office. That’s because he’s an idiot who studies antiquated technology. If you want to know anything about real science then you have to start studying “Trek.” Watching the show isn’t enough. You have to immerse yourself in the lifestyle.
That’s what I’ve been doing. I’ve been delving deep into the world of “Trek.” I recently joined a local Klingon book club. On weekdays, we read feminist literature. On weekends, we dress up in elaborate costumes and travel around town scaring small children. It’s great fun shouting at kids and questioning their manhood with loud, guttural taunts. When police or angry parents try to intervene, we simply hop into our bird of prey and hit the cloaking device.
These field trips are great, but nothing compares with actually meeting a real member of the show’s cast. Are you close friends with Oscar Gonzalez, the actor who played Ensign George Stallworth in Episode 12 of “The Next Generation?” No? Well I am. My buddies and I were lucky enough to meet Oscar. It was actually pretty easy. All we had to do was hack into a government security system, look up his personal information, break into his house and kidnap him at gunpoint. He’s locked up in our basement right now. He’s begging for Scottie to beam him up, but we just keep whipping him and selling his body to derelicts in return for hard labor.
Anyhow, I’m getting off track. “Star Trek” isn’t about whoring out sex slaves. It’s about peace and harmony. Conflict is a fact of life, but violence doesn’t have to be. Although the Federation is capable of kicking serious alien ass, its primary method of resolving conflicts is diplomacy. That’s the take-home lesson. Don’t pull out a gun and start shooting people when you encounter problems in life. Turn to peaceful negotiations so you can live long and prosper.
Daily Nexus columnist Nick Pasto is incapable of performing the “Star Trek” hand gesture after a freak “shocker” accident.