All-Terrain, You Know

The Critical Drinker has thoughts about the latest Star Trek.

Good grief – what a pant load of box-ticking crap. When did overweight bull dyke become a protected class? Or is she supposed to be a trans man and therefore cutting-edge? She looks like that fire chief lieutenant of LA, who proudly would leave someone to die in a burning building because “they got themselves into a bad situation”.

It’s funny I’ve always imagined the Lair of Evil’s henchlesbians to be a little on the mannish side, but still definitely female, and fit. And deadly, but not in the sit on you and smother you to death sort of way like this spandex-coated tub of lard. More Bond, and less…whatever the heck that is.

And that Klingon – an embarrassment to the race. Even Worf, in all his civilized glory would be embarrassed for the guy.

It’s like writers don’t write stories anymore, and actors don’t act anymore. They just go down the list ticking off body types, skin colors, ways to swap genetic material, make sure the obligatory person in a wheelchair is present. People are just there, going through some motions, saying some words. Explosions happen. Rinse, repeat.

I guess ST:TNG had all that box ticking, and I was young and didn’t notice it. I liked Geordi. He was blind, but he had the visor and could do his job like any other member of the team. Sometimes his visor came in handy as he could see stuff others couldn’t. Was I just young and stupid or did they have a better story in with The Message?