#I can give myself a bad grade and treat that as neutral information that has nothing to do with what kind of person I am

[rotationalsymmetry]

A Spoonful of Sugar

I'm a teenager. It's a school day and my alarm just went off. 20 minutes later one of my parents sticks their head in my room to complain that I'm not up yet.

I'm a kid, not sure what age exactly. My dad comes in and pretends to be a dog to wake me up. (This has happened many times. He does it with the exact same phrasing and intonation and pretty much the same set of behaviors each time. Probably got it from a parenting book or something.) Kid-me finds this hilarious and an excellent way to start the day.

I'm an adult, early to mid 20's, with a group of other mostly young people in New Orleans post-Katrina, to tear down houses contaminated with black mold at the request of their owners (mostly black people) so that even if they don't have a house any more at least they own the land. If we don't do this, the city will hire people to do it at the owners' expenses and seize the property (ie the now vacant lot) if the owners don't pay it back. Anyways, point is, someone comes around with a guitar and a song when it's time to wake up.

I'm thinking about all the things parents of babies and toddlers and otherwise very young children do to cajole them into doing things. Stickers and little prizes. Oh, you aren't sure you want to eat that? What if the spoon was an airplane flying around, what then? Which toothbrush do you want to use, the red one or the blue one? (I loved getting to choose my school supplies, what cartoon characters the pencils had on them, the erasers shaped like fruit that didn't really erase, all that.) Bedtime routines. Bath toys.

Little kids are still young enough to make it everyone else's problem when they're forced to do something they don't want. So, everyone else finds ways to make it so that it isn't being forced, so that the kid wants whatever has to happen. Gummy vitamins. Chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs.

But adults, teens, older kids, have enough self control for that fight to be strictly internal, and often when other people stop cajoling us into doing what's best for us we don't pick up the slack ourselves, we push instead of finding ways to pull. And one thing I love about this site is the genre of posts that are about finding ways to get yourself to want to go into the carrier.

I've been pretending I'm in ninja training while brushing my teeth. Do not ask me how tooth-brushing prepares me to be a ninja. I got the idea to stick though. I've been using mnemonics -- ridiculous association mind games -- to practice remembering people's names, something I've always been bad at to my embarrassement. I have so many things I don't really want to do but that I think I should do. Sometimes it's not fun silly stuff, sometimes it's more sort of stoic reframing, like "ok I'm dreading this doctor's appointment because I'm telling myself it'll be frustrating and a waste of time, I can't make sure it's not a waste of time but there is some chance it won't be a waste of time and if so then showing up is doing the right thing, and I can make sure that I show up" (and so I give myself a good grade in showing up to a doctor's appointment, something that may or may not be normal to want but is in fact possible to achieve as long as you're doing the grading yourself, or can convince someone else to do it for you.)

I'm trying to notice intrinsic joy more. Taking a shower feels good so I get free "reward" as long as I'm noticing that it feels good. Physically moving my body, stretching and using my muscles, at least some of the time, feels good. Resting can feel good. Routines like having tea in the morning feel good and give me something to look forward to and some sort of continuity in my life, predictability. This feels good. This feels good. This feels good. This feels good.

[datasfaveslampoem]

A bad fan fic

Anyway, last night I said I’d post a bad AOS fan fic I wrote when I was 15. It’s under the break. Be warned though, this is genuinely really bad.

“Captain’s log, stardate 2259.76.

“The Enterprise is on its last day of patrolling the Romulan Neutral Zone. I’m looking forward to R&R on Starbase Twelve in three days time.”

 There was a relaxed atmosphere on the Bridge of the Enterprise. However, it was over in a moment.

“Captain, two Romulan ships decloaking directly ahead,” Ensign Chekov said as two large ships appeared on the viewscreen.

Kirk stood up dramatically. “Hail them,” he said, waving a finger vaguely.

“They’re coming onscreen,” Uhura said.

A Romulan came on the viewscreen. He was a man with a bowl cut and a v-shaped ridge on his forehead. His face was heavy and grim.

“This is Commander Tarkin of the Romulan Star Empire,” he said. “You are now entering Romulan space. Remove yourselves or be destroyed.”

“Commander, under the Romulan Neutral Zone treaty, this is our territory,” Kirk said.

Commander Tarkin went offscreen.

“They’re firing phasers,” Sulu said.

“Red alert,” Kirk said. “Raise shields and brace for impact.”

A red alert siren went off in the background. Suddenly, everyone flew around as some disrupter fire hit the Enterprise. Kirk was knocked back into his chair. He tried standing up again, but then sat back down.

“Captain!” Spock exclaimed. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine babe,” Kirk said. Spock almost smiled.

“But Sulu, my man,” Kirk continued. “Lieutenant Sulu, evasive action delta four.”

“Aye sir,” Sulu said. “Evasive action delta four.”

“Fire phasers when ready,” Kirk said.

“Firing phasers.”

On the viewscreen, several bursts of phaser fire were hitting the Romulan warbirds. The Romulan ships continued to fire their disrupters, but many of their hits missed the Enterprise. The Starfleet ship had the greatest defense of them all: a thick set of plot armour.

Suddenly, one of the Romulan warbirds fired its plasma weapon.

“What the fuck’s that?” Kirk asked.

“Some kind of torpedo,” Chekov said. “I’m engaging full impulse.”

The Enterprise shifted left. The plasma torpedo still came ever closer to the ship.

“Sensors indicate it could be some kind of plasma weapon,” Spock said. “It appears to lose potency the further it travels.”

“Can we outrun it?”

The plasma weapon hit the Enterprise.

“Not that time,” Sulu said. “Shields down to twenty-three percent.”

“Fuck,” Kirk said. “Alright, fire a full spread of torpedoes. Get ‘em.”

“Aye sir, firing torpedoes.”

The Enterprise fired a full spread of photon torpedoes. They hit the Romulan warbirds directly on the shields. This didn’t matter though as both warbirds fired their plasma torpedoes back.

“Full speed ahead,” Kirk said. “Give us warp one.”

“Aye captain,” Chekov said. “Full speed, preparing for warp.”

The first of the plasma torpedoes hit. Consoles burst all over the bridge; sending smoke and sparks all over the place. ‘Twas chaos.

“Shields are down,” Sulu said.

“Can we still get to warp?” Kirk shouted over the exploding consoles.

The second plasma torpedo hit. The Enterprise was shaking up and down like it was the kid on the bed in The Exorcist.

“No,” Chekov said. “Engines are down.” He paused for a moment and then shouted, “Sir, we’re getting reports that the Romulans are beaming in all over

“Sir, Commander Tarkin is hailing us again,” Uhura said.

Kirk rolled his eyes. “Fucking alright, okay?” he said. “I get it. He’s taken the Enterprise and he wants to gloat.”

“Sir, I don’t think he’s gonna let you ignore him.”

“Alright, put him up.”

Tarkin appeared on the viewscreen.  “My soldiers have taken over your ship, Captain, and now we’re going to drag you back to Romulus,” he said. “And believe me, my soldiers won’t mind killing you or your crew in the process. I’d suggest you cooperate.”

“Fuck you, Commander,” Kirk said. He signaled for Uhura to take him off the viewer. A moment later, he was gone.

“Engineering reports being taken by the Romulans,” Uhura said. “So does Sickbay. Hold on, sir, all the main sections report being taken by the Romulans.”

“Lieutenant, are we the only place on this ship not taken by the Romulans?”

“Reports indicate so, sir.”

At that point, two Romulans stormed onto the bridge with their disruptors drawn.

“You will set course for Romulus,” the lead Romulan said.

Kirk nodded. Chekov and Sulu set a course and engaged it.

The lead Romulan walked up to Spock. “Commander Tarkin wants an audience with you, Vulcan,” he said. “He will be beaming over within the hour.”

Spock looked at Kirk.

“Sorry babe,” Kirk said. “I think you’re gonna have to deal with him.”

“Will the Commander be expecting anything resembling the human custom known as a gobby?” Spock asked.

“A gobby?” the Romulan replied.

“Trust me, he’s good at them,” Kirk said. “I know. But Mister Spock, if Tarkin’s a gentleman, he won’t ask you for that straight away.”

“Captain, Engineering reports two fatalities in their section,” Uhura reported. “Two ensigns tried to overpower a Romulan centurion.”

“Lieutenant, tell all decks not to resist the Romulans until further notice,” Kirk said.

 Half an hour later, Spock stood in the Enterprise’s briefing room. Commander Tarkin was on the other side of the table. The Romulan Commander had offered Spock a very alcoholic drink of Romulan extraction, but Spock had refused.

“You fascinate me, Vulcan,” Tarkin said. “Are you aware you’re the only one of your kind on the Enterprise?”

“I am aware,” Spock said.

Tarkin turned dramatically and looked Spock directly in the eye. “And your affair with the communications officer, Lieutenant Uhura?” he inquired. “Do you not think it strange?”

“The only strange thing here is that you think Uhura is the one I’m with,” Spock said. “Everyone knows Kirk’s my one true love. But no, it’s not so strange to be with a human. Rare, perhaps, but not strange. You forget that I myself am half human.”

“But you’re also half Vulcan,” Tarkin said. “You certainly act like one.”

“Through choice, Commander. My Vulcan side has always been dominant.”

“Mister Spock, on Romulus, you would be treated like scum for being a half breed.”

“To be treated differently on the basis of being of differing parentage is most illogical.”

“Is it? Can a half human, half Vulcan be held to the same standards as one of pure blood? Of pure lineage, undivided loyalties?”

“One can only be expected to the best of their abilities, Commander. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“The Senate has provided very specific standards as to what is to be expected of a Romulan soldier. Are you telling me the Federation has no such standards for Starfleet officers?”

“If you speak of the duties a Starfleet officer is expected to perform, the Federation has such standards.”

“I meant a sharp intelligence rise in a matter of months,” Tarkin said. “The result of genetic engineering.”

Spock raised his eyebrow. “Commander, genetic engineering has been illegal on most Federation worlds for over a century.”

Tarkin took a sip of his drink, and then another. He then nodded. “Yes, of course. You don’t want the best of the best for Starfleet; you don’t see yourselves as soldiers. That’s why when the new war comes, we will conquer you all.”

“Many officers already have high IQs on joining the Academy, Commander, and it does provide a large amount of physical training.”

“A mass injustice, Mister Spock. You could be so much more powerful if you’d just engineer your officers.”

“I’m forced to wonder if such a policy is truly ethical. How would one properly judge a person’s abilities if everyone is engineered?”

“Yes, I suppose. You’ve given me much to think about, Mister Spock. Fuck off back to your quarters or something, yeah?”

And so Spock left.

 Captain Kirk was in his quarters when he heard Spock’s recount of his encounter with Tarkin. McCoy was there too, and gave the Vulcan a grim look.

“Damn it, Spock, I’m a doctor, not a detective!” McCoy said. “What’s genetic engineering got to do with this?”

“Doctor, genetic engineering may be the source of the Romulans’ sense of universal superiority,” Spock said. “Whatever real gains they might have in speed and strength could be lost if they don’t see us as an actual threat.”

“Spock, could we use this to our advantage to retake the Enterprise?” Kirk asked.

“Their overconfidence could allow us to cause a distraction,” Spock replied. “A very temporary distraction.”

“You pointy eared bastard! You’re not seriously suggesting a full on assault?” McCoy said.

“I was thinking more of a surgical strike.”

Kirk smiled and interlaced his fingers. “I want you to provide this distraction in the next few hours. Do you think that’s possible, darling?”

“Yes sir,” Spock said.

 One hour and forty-five minutes later, Spock entered the briefing room again. Tarkin was still there, now drunker than ever before. Spock sat down and poured himself a drink.

“So you’ve come back, Mister Spock,” Tarkin said. “And I see you’re being more fun this time, yeah?”

“Indeed,” Mister Spock said, taking a sip of the drink. “I found myself fascinated by your mention of military grade genetic engineering. Such things have not been practiced on Vulcan for many hundreds of years.”

“Of course they haven’t,” Tarkin said. “We’re the offshoot who liked that stuff, aren’t we?”

“Perhaps you could tell me more about it,” Spock said. “The science behind it must be quite interesting, and I am a scientist.”

“That’s classified information, Vulcan,” Tarkin said.

“I doubt I’ll be able to write a report about it to Starfleet,” Spock replied.

Tarkin skulled the rest of his drink. “Fuck it, why not?” he said. “But you better not tell anyone, alright?”

 Kirk and Scotty entered main engineering fifteen minutes later. Their phasers were drawn. The chief shot two guards as he approached a systems monitor.

“I’m taking the impulse engines offline, Captain,” Scotty said. “We’ll be dead in the water before we even enter the Neutral Zone.”

Kirk shot a Romulan who entered a nearby corridor. “Inform Lieutenant Uhura,” Kirk said.

 Tarkin stumbled onto the bridge. “Report!” he screamed.

“The impulse engines have gone offline, Commander!” a Romulan centurion replied.

“Signal the warbirds,” he said. “Tell them to double back and guard us.”

Spock now entered the bridge.

“You did this, didn’t you?” Tarkin said.

“That’s a most illogical assumption,” Spock said. “I’ve been drinking with you for the last twenty minutes.”

Sulu and Chekov entered the bridge with their phasers drawn. The moment the turbolift doors closed behind them, they opened fire.

Tarkin reached for his disruptor, turning his back to Spock. The Vulcan took the opportunity and nerve pinched the Romulan Commander.

Chekov pressed the intercom. “Captain, the Bridge is secure,” he said.

“Very good,” Kirk replied. “Place the Commander under arrest and set a course for Starbase Twelve. Signal any nearby Starfleet ships for assistance.” He paused for a moment and said, “Sulu, my man, go to red alert as well, yeah?”

The Starfleet crew started mashing buttons. The red alert klaxons went off as the Enterprise reentered impulse speed.

Captain Kirk entered the bridge and took his chair.

“The Romulan warbirds are closing fast,” Sulu said.

“Do we have warp speed again?”

“No sir, not for another three hours.”

Chekov pointed at something dropping out of warp on the screen. “Look sir, the fleet’s come,” he said.

Indeed, it was the fleet. Four ships had dropped out of warp and had opened fire on the warbirds.

“The warbirds are backing off,” Sulu said.

“Incoming message from the Farragut, sir,” Spock said. “They’re saying they’ll drag us to starbase.”

“Send them our thanks, Mister Spock.”