WHY DID THE CHICKEN CROSS THE ROAD?
Captain Jean Luc Picard: To Make It So
Quark: Because there was profit in it
Captain James T. Kirk: To help him seduce the woman on the other side of the road
Spock: It was the logical thing to do.
Doctor McCoy: Because it's dead, Jim!
Major Kira Narese: To kill the Cardassian on the other side!
The Borg: Crossing the road is futile. The road is irrelevant. The chicken will be assimilated.
Counselor Deanna Troi: Because it felt the need to.
Rom: Duh, I don't know. To find its Moogie?
Chakotay: To find its animal guide.
Kai Wynn: Walk with the prophets, child. The chicken did.
Star Trek collectibles. Every Con has them. Every dealer has them.
And, if you can't buy the collectible you want at a Con, you can order collectibles from any of a dozen different catalogs, Internet sites, or 1- 800 numbers. Audio tapes, audio books, books, magazines, magnets, cards, caps, stamps, and insignias. TV scripts, episode guides, reference books, and videos. Plaques, plates, posters, pins, buttons, models, dolls, and toy figures. Jackets, t-shirts, sweat-shirts, caps, ties, night-shirts, uniforms.
You can buy them by the pack, dozen, box, carton, carload, or subscription. You can buy one, or as many as your cash or plastic will allow. There's no shortage of collectibles.
Or is there?
A collectible should be an item with enhanced value. Ideally, the item should be unique, and not easily copied or duplicated. And, a collectible is rare. There are only a few dozen, if that many. Preferably, the fewer the better; to further increase the collectible's value. Not hundreds or thousands of commodities masquerading as collectibles.
And when there's only one copy of an item, then the collector knows that it is a really special item. A real collectible. A rare collectible. And, a valuable collectible.
Here's our Top 10 List of we'd like to see for sale at the next Con:
10. (Tie) Ensign Ro Laren's earring and Neelix's cooking apron. Michelle Forbes isn't using the ear-ring on NYPD Blue. So why not auction it off? And, Neelix won't be using the apron much longer, as his part is slowly getting down-sized by the writers.
9. One fully functional Klingon pain stick. (Batteries included.) We all know someone we'd like to properly introduce to the Klingon Rites of Ascension.
8. Sisko's baseball. Of course it's a real baseball, and not a replicated one. With Avery's signature, of course.
7. One bar of gold pressed latinum. By the year 2478, it will probably be worth more than any IRA and savings accounts we currently invest in.
6. A ticket to a Con with an admission price under $10.
5. Melora's anti-gravity machine. Why should Melora and Doctor Bashir be the only ones to enjoy the "benefits" of zero gravity?
4. Worf's Bat'lith. But don't let any laid-off U.S. postal workers buy it.
3. Jadzia Dax's meditation ball. If you spend time wondering and thinking why, you really need this collectible.
2. Garek's suit. Was he, or wasn't he, ready for GQ in "The Die Is Cast" episode?
And, the item worthy of the number one collectible ranking:
1. Morn's bar stool. There's only one Morn, only one Quark's Bar, and only one Deep Space Nine.
Author: George Jenkins
Beware of a Borg-again Christian. Resistance to their evangelism is futile.
Borgasm: The ectasy of being assimilated.
Dentist of Borg: "Assimilation will only hurt for a moment."
Ed McMahon of Borg: "You may already have been assimilated!"
Elmer Fudd of Borg: "Be vewy, vewy quiet. I'm assimiwaiting."
Clinton of Borg: "Your paycheck will be assimilated!"
I am DOS of Borg! Prepare... oops, out of memory!
Author: Appeared in the May/June issue of "Immortal Lines" by the USS Christa McAuliffe.
If Dr. Seuss wrote for Star Trek: the Next Generation...
Picard: Sigma Indri, that's the star,
So, Data, please, how far? How far?
Data: Our ship can get there very fast
But still the trip will last and last
We'll have two days til we arrive
But can the Indrans there survive?
Picard: LaForge, please give us factor nine. LaForge: But, sir, the engines are offline! Picard: Offline! But why? I want to go!
Please make it so, please make it so!
Riker: But sir, if Geordi says we can't,
We can't, we mustn't, and we shan't,
The danger here is far too great!
Picard: But surely we must not be late! Troi: I'm sensing anger and great ire. Computer: Alert! Alert! The ship's on fire! Picard: The ship's on fire? How could this be?
Who lit the fire?
Riker: Not me. Worf: Not me. Picard: Computer, how long til we die? Computer: Eight minutes left to say goodbye. Data: May I suggest a course to take?
We could, I think, quite safely make
Extinguishers from tractor beams
And stop the fire, or so it seems...
Geordi: Hurray! Hurray! You've saved the day!
Again I say, Hurray! Hurray!
Picard: Mr. Data, thank you much.
You've saved our lives, our ship, and such.
Troi: We still must save the Indran planet -- Data: Which (by the way) is made of granite... Picard: Enough, you android. Please desist.
We understand -- we get your gist.
But can we get our ship to go?
Please, make it so, PLEASE make it so.
Geordi: There's sabotage among the wires
And that's what started all the fires.
Riker: We have a saboteur? Oh, no!
We need to go! We need to go!
Troi: We must seek out the traitor spy
And lock him up and ask him why?
Worf: Ask him why? How sentimental.
I say give him problems dental.
Troi: Are any Romulan ships around?
Have scanners said that they've been found?
Or is it Borg or some new threat
We haven't even heard of yet?
I sense no malice in this crew.
Now what are we supposed to do?
Crusher: Captain, please, the Indrans need us.
They cry out, "Help us, clothe us, feed us!"
I can't just sit and let them die!
A doctor MUST attempt -- MUST try!
Picard: Doctor, please, we'll get there soon. Crusher: They may be dead by Tuesday noon. *COMMERCIAL BREAK, COMMERCIAL BREAK
HOW LONG WILL THESE DUMB ADS TAKE?*
Worf: The saboteur is in the brig.
He's very strong and very big.
I had my phaser set on stun --
A zzzip! A zzzap! Another one!
He would not budge, he would not fall,
He would not stun, no, not at all!
He changed into a stranger form
All soft and purple, round and warm.
Picard: Did you see this, Mr. Worf?
Did you see this creature morph?
Worf: I did and then I beat him fairly.
Hit him on the jaw -- quite squarely.
Riker: My commendations, Klingon friend!
Our troubles now are at an end!
Crusher: Now let's get our ship to fly
And orbit yonder Indran sky!
Picard: LaForge, please tell me we can go...? Geordi: Yes, sir, we can. Picard: Then make it so!
REASONS WHY CAPTAIN JANEWAY IS BETTER THAN CAPTAIN PICARD
- One word: hair
- More hair than all previous Star Trek commanding officers combined.
- Drinks coffee, not that sissy "Earl Grey" stuff.
- Beams down to the planet like real Captains should.
- Mutes the doctor when the doctor gets out of line.
- Hasn't let an adolescent pilot the Federation flagship -- yet.
- Commanded ships blown up: Picard: 2 Janeway: 0
- Voyager needs a female Captain. Its Captain must be willing to admit they're lost and pull over for directions.
- Picard likes to talk his way through. Janeway likes to punch her way through.
- Hasn't quoted Shakespeare -- yet.
- Looks better in sleepwear.
- Gives guilt trips that would make a Jewish mother proud.
- Isn't French with an English accent.
- "Take this cheese to sickbay!"
- Will give you two days off to ponder your lifeshattering experience.
- Janeway says "I don't like you!" to her enemies instead of trying to convince them to behave better.
- To comfort children, Janeway cares for them in a loving motherly way. Picard sings a song... in French... about a monk... who can't wake up for morning bells.
- The only children on Voyager can be turned off at will.
- Janeway has a First Officer with a tattoo.
- She doesn't have any pesky Federation Admirals to get in her way.
- Three words: Compression Phaser Rifles.
- Acknowledges freely when she breaks the Prime Directive instead of trying to weasel her way out of it with philosophical ramblings.
- 100+ episodes and Wesley has yet to save the ship.
- Janeway's holo programs create useful things like doctors and lungs. Picard's holodecks create maniacal evil geniuses who yet again take over the ship.
- She doesn't need to straighten her uniform every time she stands.
- Janeway has never worn green tights and frolicked about in Sherwood Forest. However, if she did, she would look fantastic!
- Kirk looked good in ripped shirts; Picard looked good without a shirt; Janeway would look... no, they can't do that on network television.
- Doesn't force her crew to wear awful outfits, unless it is to blend in with a primitive planet.
- She doesn't waste time learning foreign languages. All lifeforms in the Delta Quadrant speak perfect English.
- Her engineer does not wear a banana clip over her eyes.
- Slouches in her chair even in critical life-threatening moments.
- Doesn't have a Counselor on board (thank God!).
- Her telepath only lives nine years.
- Janeway heard the words "boldly go where no man (er, woman) has gone before" and took them to the extreme.
- Picard tells alien cultures, "I hope our two cultures will one day come to a greater understanding." Janeway threatens them with "the deadliest of force".
- Janeway's Security Chief would never grow a ponytail.
- The high point of Enterprise cuisine were scrambled eggs that only Worf could stomach.
- Janeway doesn't have to point which way to go when they set off.
- Maintains an elaborate hairdo that would baffle even Princess Leia.
- Has mastered facial expression understood by all to mean, "Boy, Paris, are YOU ever stupid."
- Cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese. I can't help myself!
- Hugs her Vulcan officer from time to time.
- Has a more manly voice.
- Doesn't have a starship that splits in half when it's in a tight spot.
- Has a dog and a significant other, not some damn fish!
- Seven. Troi. No contest.
- Nealix. Replicator. Ok, this one's debatable.
- At least she doesn't have to yell "Hot!" at her cook every time she wants something to drink.
- Her ship has neat-looking folding warp nacelles.
- Her CONN officer actually went through the Academy.
- Her CONN officer can use contractions.
- Her first officer has a hallucinogenic device.
- None of the crew members' relatives have ever tried to take over the ship, invade the Federation, steal a starship, or enslave all humankind.
- To help her relax, Janeway's first officer helps her contact her spirit guide. Picard's first officer helps him get... to Risa.
This guy is stranded on a desert island, all alone for ten years. One day, he sees a speck in the horizon. He thinks to himself, "It's not a ship." The speck gets a little closer and he thinks, "It's not a boat." The speck gets even closer and he thinks, "It's not a raft." Then, out of the surf comes this gorgeous blonde woman, wearing a wet suit and scuba gear.
She strides up to the guy and says, "How long has it been since you've had a cigarette?"
"Ten years!", he says.
She reaches over and unzips a waterproof pocket on her left sleeve and pulls out a pack of fresh cigarettes. He takes one, lights it, takes a long drag, and says, "Man, oh man! Is that good!"
Then she asks, "How long has it been since you've had a drink of whiskey?"
He replies, "Ten years!"
She reaches over, unzips her waterproof pocket on her right sleeve, pulls out a flask and gives it to him. He takes a long swig and says, "Wow, that's fantastic !"
Then she starts unzipping this long zipper that runs down the front of her wet suit and she says to him, "And how long has it been since you've had some REAL fun?"
And the man replies, "My God ! Don't tell me that you've got a Klingon bat'lith in there!"
Life Will Not Be Like Star Trek
Written by Scott Adams, published in "The Dilbert Future" by HarperBusiness. Copyright United Media, 1997. Please keep this notice with the text if you forward it by e-mail.
There are so many Star Trek(tm) spin-offs that it is easy to fool yourself into thinking that the Star Trek vision is an accurate vision of the future. Sadly, Star Trek does not take into account the stupidity, selfishness, and horniness of the average human being. Allow me to describe some of the more obvious errors in the Star Trek vision.
On Star Trek, the doctors have handheld devices that instantly close any openings in the skin. Imagine that sort of device in the hands of your unscrupulous friends. They would sneak up behind you and seal your ass shut as a practical joke. The devices would be sold in novelty stores instead of medical outlets. All things considered, I'm happy that it's not easy to close other people's orifices.
It would be great to be able to beam your molecules across space and then reassemble them. The only problem is that you have to trust your co-worker to operate the transporter. These are the same people who won't add paper to the photocopier or make a new pot of coffee after taking the last drop. I don't think they'll be double-checking the transporter coordinates. They'll be accidentally beaming people into walls, pets, and furniture. People will spend all their time apologizing for having inanimate objects protruding from parts of their bodies.
"Pay no attention to the knickknacks; I got beamed into a hutch yesterday."
If I could beam things from one place to another, I'd never leave the house. I'd sit in a big comfy chair and just start beaming groceries, stereo equipment, cheerleaders, and anything else I wanted right into my house. I'm fairly certain I would abuse this power. If anybody came to arrest me, I'd beam them into space. If I wanted some paintings for my walls, I'd beam the contents of the Louvre over to my place, pick out the good stuff, and beam the rest into my neighbor's garage.
If I were watching the news on television and didn't like what I heard, I would beam the anchorman into my living room during the commercial break, give him a vicious wedgie, and beam him back before anybody noticed. I'd never worry about 'keeping up with the Joneses,' because as soon as they got something nice, it would disappear right out of their hands. My neighbors would have to use milk crates for furniture. And that's only after I had all the milk crates I would ever need for the rest of my life. There's only one thing that could keep me from spending all my time wreaking havoc with the transporter: the holodeck.
For those of you who only watched the 'old' Star Trek, the holodeck can create simulated worlds that look and feel just like the real thing. The characters on Star Trek use the holodeck for recreation during breaks from work. This is somewhat unrealistic. If I had a holodeck, I'd close the door and never come out until I died of exhaustion. It would be hard to convince me I should be anywhere but in the holodeck, getting my oil massage from Cindy Crawford and her simulated twin sister.
Holodecks would be very addicting. If there weren't enough holodecks to go around, I'd get the names of all the people who had reservations ahead of me and beam them into concrete walls. I'd feel tense about it, but that's exactly why I'd need a massage.
I'm afraid the holodeck will be society's last invention.
Sex with Aliens
According to Star Trek, there are many alien races populated with creatures who would like to have sex with humans. This would open up a lot of anatomical possibilities, but imagine the confusion. It's hard enough to have sex with human beings, much less humanoids. One wrong move and you're suddenly transported naked to the Gamma Quadrant to stand trial for who-knows-what. This could only add to performance anxiety. You would never be quite sure what moves would be sensual and what moves would be a galactic-sized mistake.
Me Trying to Have Sex with an Alien
Me: May I touch that?
Alien: That is not an erogenous zone. It is a separate corporeal being that has been attached to my body for six hundred years.
Me: It's cute. I wonder if it would let me have sex with it.
Alien: That's exactly what I said six hundred years ago.
The best part about having sex with aliens, according to the Star Trek model, is that the alien always dies a tragic death soon afterward. I don't have to tell you how many problems that would solve. Realistically, the future won't be that convenient.
I would love to have a device that would stun people into unconsciousness without killing them. I would use it ten times a day. If I got bad service at the convenience store, I'd zap the clerk. If somebody with big hair sat in front of me at the theater, zap!
On Star Trek, there are no penalties for stunning people with phasers. It happens all the time. All you have to do is claim you were possessed by an alien entity. Apparently, that is viewed as a credible defense in the Star Trek future. Imagine real criminals in a world where the 'alien possession' defense is credible.
Criminal: Yes, officer, I did steal that vehicle, and I did kill the occupants, but I was possessed by an evil alien entity.
Officer: Well, okay. Move along.
I wish I had a phaser right now. My neighbor's dog likes to stand under my bedroom window on the other side of the fence and bark for hours at a time. My neighbor has employed the bold defense that he believes it might be another neighbor's dog, despite the fact that I am standing there looking at him barking only twenty feet away. In a situation like this, a phaser is really the best approach. I could squeeze off a clean shot through the willow tree. A phaser doesn't make much noise, so it wouldn't disturb anyone. Then the unhappy little dog and I could both get some sleep. If the neighbor complains, I'll explain that the phaser was fired by the other neighbor's dog, a known troublemaker who is said to be invisible.
And if that doesn't work, a photon torpedo is clearly indicated.
Given the choice, I would rather be a cyborg instead of 100 percent human. I like the thought of technology becoming part of my body. As a human, I am constantly running to the toolbox in my garage to get a tool to deal with some new household malfunction. If I were a cyborg, I might have an electric drill on my arm, plus a metric socket set. That would save a lot of trips. From what I've seen, the cyborg concept is a modular design, so you can add whatever tools you think you'd use most.
I'd love to see crosshairs appear in my viewfinder every time I looked at someone. It would make me feel menacing, and I'd like that. I'd program myself so that anytime I saw a car salesman, a little message would appear in my viewfinder that said "Target Locked On."
It would also be great to have my computer built into my skull. That way I could surf the Net during useless periods of life, such as when people talk to me. All I'd have to do is initiate a head-nodding subroutine during boring conversations and I could amuse myself in my head all day long.
I think that if anyone could become a cyborg, there would be a huge rush of people getting in line for the conversion. Kids would like it for the look. Adults would like it for its utility. Cyborg technology has something for everyone. So, unlike Star Trek, I can imagine everyone wanting to be a cyborg.
The only downside I can see is that when the human part dies and you're at the funeral, the cyborg part will try to claw its way out of the casket and slay all the mourners. But that risk can be minimized by saying you have an important business meeting, so you can't make it to the service.
I wish I had an invisible force field. I'd use it all the time, especially around people who spit when they talk or get too close to my personal space. In fact, I'd probably need a shield quite a bit if I also had a phaser to play with.
I wouldn't need a big shield system like the one they use to protect the Enterprise, maybe just a belt-clip device for personal use. I could insult dangerous people without fear of retribution. Whatever crumbs of personality I now have would be completely unnecessary in the future. On the plus side, it would make shopping much more fun.
Shopping with Shields Up
Me: Ring this up for me, you unpleasant cretin.
Saleswoman: I oughta slug you!
Me: Try it. My shields are up.
Me: There's nothing you can do to harm me.
Saleswoman: I guess you're right. Would you like to open a charge account? Our interest rates are very reasonable.
Me: Nice try.
If people had long-range sensors, they would rarely use them to scan for new signs of life. I think they would use them to avoid work. You could run a continuous scan for your boss and then quickly transport yourself out of the area when he came near. If your manager died in his office, you would know minutes before the authorities discovered him, and that means extra break time.
Vulcan Death Grip
Before all you Trekkies write to correct me, I know there is no such thing as a Vulcan Death Grip even in Star Trek. But I wish there were. That would have come in handy many times. It would be easy to make the Vulcan Death Grip look like an accident.
"I was just straightening his collar and he collapsed."
I think the only thing that keeps most people from randomly killing other citizens is the bloody mess it makes and the high likelihood of getting caught. With the Vulcan Death Grip, it would be clean and virtually undetectable. Everybody would be killing people left and right. You wouldn't be able to have a decent conversation at the office over the sound of dead co-workers hitting the carpet. The most common sounds in corporate America would be, 'I'm sorry I couldn't give you a bigger raise, but . . . erk!'
And that's why the future won't be like Star Trek.
Written by Scott Adams, published in "The Dilbert Future" by HarperBusiness. Copyright United Media, 1997. Please keep this notice with the text.
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JACK SCHITT
(As told by Data to Lal.)
I recently found myself in the midst of a very heated and intense conversation. Although the subject eludes me now, I definitely remember the intensity of the conversation.
The other person and I disagreed, to describe it mildly. After several attempts, neither of us were able to persuade the other. The conversation ended with the other person yelling at me, "You Don't Know Jack Schitt!"
As I walked away from this ogre, I took counselor Troi's advice and stopped at 10 Forward for chocolate. Twenty minutes later, the dish with a triple scoop of chocolate ice cream was empty, but I still didn't know who this Jack Schitt was or is. I searched my data banks and retrieved other incidents where someone yelled at me, "You don't know Jack Schitt!"
It seemed appropriate to take other action. Plus, I clearly didn't know anything about this Jack Schitt person, while other Starfleet personnel did. Maybe some of them had met him. I asked the command staff. In various terms, they all said the same thing; that I would have to learn for myself. This situation had to change.
So, I located the nearest computer terminal and logged onto the World Wide Web to find out exactly who this guy Jack Schitt is or was. I can now state that I know who Jack Schitt was. It seems his biography was listed at a site titled "Who's Who On Earth." The web address, or URL is: http://www.whoswhoonearth.ufp/
For those of you without web access, here is the text of Jack Schitt's biography:
"Born to John Schitt, a fertilizer magnate, and Ewe Schitt, the former Ewe Marie Preston, three children: Jack, Roland and Catharine. John and Ewe met in college in 1927. They married in 1929 and settled in Horsetown, Pennsylvania."
"Jack Schitt was born in the year 1930, followed by Roland in 1932 and Catherine, or "Cat," in 1935. Roland was an outstanding athlete in high school and college. He later played major league professional baseball for the Philadelphia Phillies."
"Jack was quiet and studious. In college he met Awe Cashman. They married immediately after Jack's senior year in 1951. Jack and Awe Schitt's marriage wasn't a pleasant marriage. Jack worked long hours, especially as he assumed more responsibility in the management of his father's fertilizer business, "Reliable Schitts." By 1965, he had assumed full control of the fertilizer business, as the Chief Executive Officer and President."
"Roland Schitt met the former Robin Ford in 1953. The couple married in 1956. Robin Schitt gave birth to one child, Stefan Schitt in 1959."
"Also in 1959, Jack and Awe divorced. However, "Reliable Schitts" was a vibrant, growing business. Expansion plans and new product sources required Jack to travel to Asia. While meeting with potential suppliers and foreign distributors, Jack met Dam Ho Leung in Hong Kong in 1960. The couple married the next year, and Dam Schitt moved with Jack to the couple's new home outside New York City."
"Jack and Dam Schitt produced three children: Horace, Yong Hoon, and Yiu Pui. Horace was born in 1963, Yong Hoon in 1964, and Yiu Pui in 1966. Yiu Schitt, a dedicated student, ultimately attended the Juliard School in New York City. She went on to become an accomplished pianist. Horace Schitt pursued an MBA degree from the Wharton School of Business in Philadelphia. Yong Schitt drifted, living in several U.S. cities, and finally moved back to Hong Kong to study his Asian heritage."
"Dam Schitt focused upon her family during the 1970's as Jack managed the fast growing "Reliable Schitts" fertilizer business, which had expanded to several countries, over 4,000 employees, and several dozen horse stables."
"In October, 1972, the elder John Schitt died from intestinal cancer. His wife of many years, Ewe Schitt, lived for a while longer and died in 1987." All family members, except Yong Schitt, attended the funerals."
"By the early 1990's, Jack had considered several purchase offers for his fertilizer business. Yiu Schitt had a successful music and recording career, with several albums featuring classical music. Jack's brother, Roland Schitt, had switched careers from sports to acting. Their sister, Cat Schitt, had left her homemaker role to obtain a law degree from Yale University."
"In 1988, Cat Schitt had joined the law firm of Happ, Penz and Dailey, to perform corporate law. This included securities work, plus several high profile mergers and divestitures. In 1994 she was promoted to a full partner. Later that year, to accommodate the new partner and the focus upon securities law, the firm changed its name to Schitt, Happ, Penz and Dailey."
"In 1995, Jack sold "Reliable Schitts" to a British conglomerate, Mah Newer Technologies. With the proceeds, he reportedly retired and moved to the Cayman Islands. When asked whether he liked the isolation of remote island living, Jack reported replied, "When I was a newlywed, we had many children. The house was always full of Schitts. It's relaxing; very nice to finally be the last Schitt in the house." "
Author: George Jenkins
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