Reasons I Hate Star Trek II: The Holodeck
- Day #2 — The Holodeck
In the bright happiness of the far future, life is all about aliens with heads like abused vaginas, and uniforms that look variously like Christmas sweaters or wetsuits. To distract from this thrilling lifestyle, humanity has perfected the pinnacle of home entertainment technology. They call it the Holodeck, which is something so ball-achingly obvious that I suspect Apple came up with it. “It’s a pad, right? Put an “i” in front of it and jack up the price so the mooks know it’s ours, then sell it by the shitload.”
Let’s not spaz around: a totally immersive, fully tactile and programmable reality is what mankind’s been reaching for since we first realised that, sometimes, man, it’s hard to fuck the people you want to fuck. In days of yore, maybe they lived in a distant cave or were already claimed by a guy with a bigger, uh, flint spear… than you. Nowadays, the human need to Get It On is hindered by more realistic problems like restraining orders, outbreaks of cholera, and novel deadlines.
It’s not unfair to suggest that a lot of people would rather spend their lives in a virtual world where they’re King of the Nude Bitches or Queen of the Monosyllabic Well-Hung Centaur Boys. Even with online gaming as my most serious hobby and a man in love with his own Level 80 Rogue, I still prefer real life. Surely, these days, pretty much everyone does. I’m not out to make a point or social statement, but I’ll venture that when it’s piss-easy to spend your entire life as Emperor of the Planet of Redheaded Cartoon Mermaids, a lot of people with sucky lives will basically vanish from the world, and we’ll all need to do our own car maintenance.
So the people of Star Trek, with access to the pinnacle of media technology, must be getting it on pretty much 24/7, right?
I mean… they must be.
No, they’re not. They’re using the holodeck to dress up as characters from Pride & Prejudice, and go solve crimes like the gang of Scooby fucking Doo. As if their lives weren’t interesting enough, right? As if – in their daily lives – they weren’t flying a massive bastard spaceship, brokering peace treaties with hideous labia-faced aliens and lobbing torpedoes at other spaceships for kicks. Apparently, because their lives are fun, they use their downtime to be boring.
I find that difficult to believe, but whatever. Maybe we’d all do that kind of thing. A little bit.
But what gets me is that they never use it realistically. Ever.
If this technology was real now, before the lab attendant could even finish saying my name I’d have punched her in the teeth to shut her up, while frantically typing in RUN PROGRAM: MY FACE + ARIA GIOVANNI’S HUGE ASS.
I think there was one instance where someone was using the holodeck for what it would really be used for: taking the occasional timeout from his shitty menial job in order to get some serious hunny-nailing done. And you know what happened? D’you know what happened when this guy did what practically everyone would actually do?
He got in trouble. Not just regular trouble, either. Everyone looked at him like he was some unbelievable social fuckup. Like, “Oh man, Mike didn’t use the holodeck to play chess with Socrates, what an intolerable scallywag.”
Just off the top of my head, here are some things I’d do in the holodeck.
RUN PROGRAM: MY BIOLOGICAL FATHER. “Colin, you’re a piece of shit. Wow. That felt great. Closure, y’know? Anyway, fuck off.” END PROGRAM.
RUN PROGRAM: MY EDITOR.
RUN PROGRAM: BASTILA SHAN.
ADAPT PROGRAM: MAKE ME INTO A BADLY RENDERED VIDEO GAME CHARACTER.
ADAPT PROGRAM: WITH A METAL JAW.
ADAPT PROGRAM: AND WICKED HEAD TATTOOS.
What was I talking about?
Oh. Yeah. Star Trek.
And that’s Reason 2 of why Star Trek is shit.