Thursday, December 29, 2011


** (2 stars out of 5)
Every rose has its Whorley Thorne, writer of "Justice".

Welcome to Rubicun III, planet of the skimpies known as the Edo, friendly as can be but not real great with the explaining. These aliens are quick to give the thorn to any who tread on the roses.

If that sounded dirty, blame the boundaries and fabrics being stretched today.

"Sounds wonderful for the children, " says Dr. Crusher, seconds before we are told the locals "make love at the drop of a hat." "Any hat."

Picard looks around at his hatless crew, perhaps wondering if they will 'avoid temptation'. No such luck.

'Nice planet.' says Worf. Although he later tells Riker that human women are too fragile for Klingon-style sex, he apparently enjoys his welcoming Edo hug.

They're huggers. Huggers and joggers.

"When in Rome,' muses jogging Riker. 'Where, sir?"

Worf's never heard of Rome? I know he's no Data, but the guy went to the Academy, right? On Earth? The cafeteria never had replicated spaghetti?

Picard asks Geordi to look at a strange object directly out a window with his awe-inspiring VISOR. I'm dubious now: if the VISOR is better than sensors why didn't they make sensors out of VISORS? Does La Forge running to another room and reporting back with 'yup, looks weird' actually help? Worse yet, how did he spot the object in front of the ship from the aft-facing lounge?

An angry globule of fairy lights gloms onto Data's head for information exchange. The object, like others before and since, is the local god.

The Edo have a randomized punishment zone with death for any infraction. This has eliminated crime. (Unless male camel-toe is considered a crime?)

Wesley falls on some plants in a Bento Box, and is about to be immediately killed by lethal injection. His ignorance is not something the pants-free penitents account for when passing judgement. Nor is his devotion to honesty: it's not Captain Kirk's Starfleet of bluffs and fizzbins for my boy Wes. "The Wesley-Boy" does not lie. Wil Wheaton's review of the whole affair is self-deprecating but hilarious.

Mr. Wheaton's previous review for 'Lonely Among Us' brings up a convention panel at the time to 'solve the Wesley problem'. Something clearly was not working out if the CREATORS hate what they made WHILE THEY WERE MAKING IT.

So I'll weigh in: at Wesley's age I was a scrupulous mama's boy, good at school, awkward at everything else, all sexual urges zealously suppressed to my later chagrin.

The writing in this season was not always top-notch, but hating Wes would've been hating myself. And sometimes I did, but if being Wesley was a crime, it was also my punishment.

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