I grew up with a hardcore Trekkie. By which I mean that my aunt would actually watch and then catalogue every single episode and had: an outfit (I think she had a gold outfit, which signified something that I can never remember), a communicator (that actually beeped), a v-shaped pin (which also did something), models of the spaceships, a book on the Klingon language.
When I was ten, I liked Star Trek. I’ll admit it. I thought they were ‘exciting’. By the time I hit puberty, however, that was all over. I began to make fun of my poor aunt for still loving the show, and of course, of having a crush on William Shatner (admit it, he was hot as Captain Kirk).
Now that I’m older, nostalgia is setting in.
I like remembering those afternoons watching Star Trek with my aunt. She’s a good egg.
In her honor, and as an apology for being a pest, I give you the following, stolen from Gawker:
Neatorama » Blog Archive » Every “He’s Dead, Jim” Line from Classic Star Trek
It does occur to me, after watching this a gazillion times and laughing out loud, why I began to be so obsessed with death and dying. If someone didn’t die in a Star Trek episode, it just wasn’t a good episode.
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