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Stardate 2016 - Spock &
Voting is Highly Illogical,” said Spock, from the bridge of the Enterprise, with planet Earth still a distant blue speck in the darkness of outer space.
Kirk sighed and turned his lustful glance from the form-fitted figure of Lt. Uhura. The sexy Uhura agreed to meet him later in his private stateroom, where his heat-seeking missile would find it’s intended target in the darkness of her inner space. Now he swiveled in his Starfleet Commander’s seat, annoyed at the interruption of his pleasant daydream.
Spock continued: “Give me one example where earthlings ever solved anything by voting.”
“What do you mean by that exactly, Mr. Spock?”
“Voting is the classical example of madness,” Spock explained; “Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”
Captain Kirk nodded, rose in his seat, and headed down into the Transporter room. He certainly hoped he could change things on Planet Earth in the year 2016. He felt he had failed, to make a positive change, every four years since 1964. But this year was different.
“I’m sorry Mr. Spock but I have to go vote anyway. Don’t you see; if I don’t vote today on Earth, then what does that say about me as a person, as a leader?”
Spock stared at Kirk, much as a doctor would appraise a patient in an insane asylum. “What would that say about YOU, if you didn’t vote? It would say that you haven’t bought into the whole rigged system, Jim, a system as corrupt as any in the distant Kardashian Galaxy.”
Kirk looked stunned. The Kardashians were a shallow race of humanoids and notable for their superficiality in all things serious. Some of the loveliest inhabited planets in the Universe and yet, by Vulcan standards, the entire Kardashian Galaxy was stuck in an era of complete and utter ignorance based on adoration of skin, sin and wasteful self-indulgence. Almost exactly like planet Earth.
“But the entire reason we traveled all the way back here to Earth, back in time through a wormhole every four years, is to save the planet from itself,” said Captain Kirk convincingly. “If we don’t vote for Hillary or Trump, then life as we know it will disconnect from the space / time / Facebook continuum in the year 2016.”
Captain Kirk stared at Mr. Scott, Sulu and Doctor “Bones” McCoy, certain he had convinced his ranking staff officers of his reasoning. Earthlings like himself, they would appreciate the finer aspects of Earth history. When every four years in America, the masses were expected to support the system and vote for a president.
“The case you’ve made for voting is weak and woefully flawed,” said Spock, arching one eyebrow. “The same sort of argument that the mainstream media would have made in that era, to support the corrupt, crony system that eventually led to the complete collapse of the late great United States. Highly illogical and criminal too.”
“He’s right,” said McCoy. “As we learned in the finest Starfleet medical schools. America suffered from an advanced case of Parasitis in 2016.”
“What is that?” said Scotty. “That big city in France? Parisitis.”
“Parasitis is where the host is consumed by many greedy but voracious parasites until the larger organism fails to function. Elites they were called in that day and age, infesting every country on Earth and not just in America. Pampered predators, obscenely rich, bent on amassing as much power and influence as they could. Terminal in almost every case, unless - ”
Dr. McCoy looked thoughtful. The sudden silence was wholly unexpected by McCoy but not by Spock.
“Unless the parasites are somehow neutralized?” added Spock. “The host dies otherwise?”
“Unless earthlings can find some remedy in time,” nodded Dr. McCoy.
“By voting! Right?” Exclaimed James T. Kirk, Starfleet commander.
“As everyone knows from reading Earth history from centuries ago, especially during the collapsing American empire in 2016, only one man opposed the Dark Alliance then called NATO.”
“The Putin Federation?” said Scotty.
Spock nodded. “Putin and his allies. Of course, Dark Alliance sub commanders Pence and Kaine tried to form a second, well-funded opposition group to destroy President Putin, called Darth Lives Matter, since aligned with either the Clinton Foundation or the Klingon Foundation.”
“Wasn’t there a rumor that Putin was part Vulcan?” wondered Mr. Sulu aloud.
“Not a rumor,” said Spock. “Putin’s ancestors proved to be part Vulcan long ago through crude DNA testing that earthlings used at that time. And later with more advanced blood type biochemistry testing available to us today. Putin is part Vulcan on his mother’s side of the family.”
Mr. Scott began to warm up the dilithium crystals for teleportation. “So Putin, NOT Trump or Clinton, proved to be the sole salvation for the human race and planet Earth after year 2017? Is that correct?”
Spock nodded and rubbed an ear. His ears always tingled this close to Earth.
Kirk shook his head. Sometimes it seemed he was taking crazy pills, or that the entire galactic system he patrolled was addicted to self-destruction. Still he intended to vote, whether out of loyalty to an ideal sold to the human race as beneficial or simply out of an ingrained habit to his predecessors, he did not know. But for now he decided to carry out some Starfleet remedy for Parisitis.
“Set your phasers on stun,” he said to the group awaiting his command. This would be their fifth trip to planet Earth, almost all of that time devoted to the late 20th century and early 21st. The years just before the collapse.
“What is our exact destination?” asked Mr. Sulu. “To the White House again?”
The entire group smiled. Years ago, commandos from starship Enterprise visited the White House and threatened to level Washington DC to save the world, if they did not “get their shit together,” as one lowly staff member of the Secret Service overheard them say. They came back every eight years it seemed since then. That same lowly Secret Service member always greeted them with a knowing smile as they leaned on the President and his flunkies.
“Reminds me of that excellent earthling sci-fi film, The Day The Earth Stood Still,” said Mr. Scott with a grin.
Captain Scott never got to go anywhere fun. When he was not tinkering with the Transporter, repairing broken phasers or fiddling with the dilithium crystals, he spent many lonely evenings watching old videos removed from extinct Blockbuster franchises by teleportation.
Scotty looked wistful now. “When the aliens stopped time and brought Earth to a standstill. Wish I could have seen the faces in the White House.”
“So, now where to exactly, James?” said Spock.
Captain Kirk took a deep breath. “To the palatial mansion of one George Soros,” he said. “Later we have an unannounced meeting at the Bilderberger Conference in Geneva. Everyone will remember to have their phasers set for maximum effect then.”
Scriptwriter and novelist, Douglas Alan Herman penned the feature film road movie, Caution to The Wind and the historical crime novel, The Guns of Dallas. He lives in Arizona. Email him at Roadmovie2@gmail.com
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