The Fredösphere

This latest installment of The Varieties Of Religious Art takes a stroll down Star Trek Lane.  Previous VORAs may be read here, here, here and here. We have shown that religion produces bad art, and that bad art is an indicator for the presence of religion.  This is not an argument against religion (you know me better than that); it is simply an observation that religion serves as an motivator for creating and consuming art, for people who would not otherwise have much to do with art, and who are not prepared to interact with art on purely artistic terms.  They are interested in its didactic function, and that can be deadly.

Thus, I give you exhibit A:  The Star Trek 25th Anniversary Plate.  There are lots more where that came from.  Thus is proved by geometric logic the thesis that Star Trek is a religion.  Ipso facto.  Q.E.D.  Additional proof would be redundant, but a lot of fun, so check out this and this, and then go watch this documentary.

In comparison to these platefuls of last night's dinner vomited back up, Sallman's creations seem models of technical mastery and tasteful restraint.

By demographics and personality, I should be a Trekkie, but I am not.  I do not remember with fondness those who have embarrassed me, and Star Trek routinely left me hot, hot with vicarious embarrassment.  Who could forget the episode where an alien race independently developed the U.S. system of government (with the same flag even!) or the one with Nazis, complete with swastikas and Darth Vader helmets?   I will never forgive them for the the episode where Kirk marvels that a seemingly sophisticated people would worship the "sun," and Lt. Uhura replies, her face radiant with beatific joy, "they're not worshiping the sun, Captain; they're worshiping the Son of God!"

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Finally, let me end on a tangent.  This is something that's been bugging me for decades.  In the transporter room, the controls seem to consist of a set of three faders, like something you would see on a small mixer in a recording studio.  Study the picture here carefully, and you will see them.  The fader concept makes a certain sense, because the transporter action is gradual; there's a period of time where the transported person is half here and half there.  But why three?  Is that for red-green-blue?  The faders are always moved in tandem, but I would love to see what would happen if you moved only one.  Would that transport a red Kirk onto the planet, leaving a cyan Kirk behind on the ship?  I'm just asking.

Labels: VarietiesOfReligiousArt