Star Trek offers hope to a new generation

A lone survey vessel on a voyage of exploration detects what appears to be an enormous thunderstorm directly ahead, impossible in the void of space.

They hesitate for the briefest of moments as the darkness overtakes them, blotting out the stars ahead. The shadow explodes into beams of light, illuminating the gargantuan hull of the Romulan ship Narada as it opens fire on the USS Kelvin.

Fire and chaos shake the smaller ship. They are no match for Nero, the terrorist from the future who seeks to annihilate every world in the United Federation of Planets.

Two brave men sacrifice their lives, ultimately exploding the Kelvin in the bowels of the behemoth. They cripple the monster just long enough to evacuate their survivors, including one infant newly squalling his way into the universe- James Tiberius Kirk.

And in this first fifteen minutes of the film, the Star Trek Universe is born again.

Almost forty-three years after the original series aired on September 8, 1966, the screen explodes with color, lights, music, and special effects unimaginable before the 21st century. Producer J.J. Abrams pulled off what Trek fans thought impossible: paying homage to the past, preserving the vision of creator Gene Roddenberry, and creating a 23rd century world believable to a high-tech generation.

"Star Trek? My parents watched that. What's the big deal?"

Ah, the naiveté of the uninitiated! While the original series ran for only three seasons, the vision never died. It went on to spawn four spin-off television series and ten major motion pictures prior to the current box-office smash. Countless thousands have attended conventions around the world, and Trekkers anted up $7.1 million for Trek memorabilia at an auction held by Christie's in October of 2006.

Star Trek is serious business.

We, the convinced, understand its success. But as the franchise finds resurrection in its fifth decade, the question arises anew: What is the timeless appeal of Star Trek?

When the original series premiered in 1966, the United States was in a period of violent unrest. The civil rights movement had burst out of its infancy and into the streets, burning our major cities with the fires of indignation and race riots. Our government had already shipped a quarter of a million young men to the very unpopular Vietnam War. On college campuses, men burned their draft cards and women burned their bras. Recreational drugs had climbed out of the gutter and onto Main Street. Amidst all the upheaval, a mushroom-shaped cloud of worry hung between us and the Soviet Union.

Growing up in the sixties was positively bizarre, but we had one advantage unknown to previous generations: the widespread proliferation of television. Before satellites, before cable, we pointed our rabbit ears toward the skies and picked up signals beaming Jim Kirk and his valiant crew into our living rooms.

At a time when everything American was owned and managed by middle- to upper-class white men, the crew of the Enterprise was young: a cocky, make-my-own rules rebel; a green-tinged Vulcan science officer with pointed ears; an intelligent, beautiful black woman as communications officer; a seriously cute young Russian dude with no discernable responsibilities; a Scottish engineer with an affinity for strong drink and a talent for performing techo-miracles; a swashbuckling Asian helmsman; and a sweet but cantankerous country doctor. Together, they traveled the galaxy, seeking out new life and new civilizations, boldly going where no one had gone before.

By interacting with alien species, the series addressed the societal problems of the day: the Cold War, weapons of mass destruction, famine, racism, disease, prejudice, cultural rebellion. Each issue was acknowledged intelligently with the hope of resolution. The good guys won, people occasionally fell in love, and there was hope for the universe because life was better in the 23rd century.

When done well, the magic of cinema can transcend our reality and transform our attitude, even giving rise to hope for the future. If Jim Kirk can grow up to kick terrorist tail against unimaginable odds, then yes- the good guys can win! If the unemotional Spock can take a chance on love, there's hope for the loveless here, too. For two glorious hours, we can boo the villain, cheer the heroes, and marvel at the special effects as the thrum of the engines reverberates through our souls. We leave the theater feeling like we won the lottery.

We original Trekkers survived the tumult of the 60's. Some villains were vanquished, some issues resolved, and the mushroom-shaped cloud of our fears did not come to pass, at least not yet. In some ways we are a better society, but each new generation will face the challenges of their day.

To the new audience of Trekkers, I offer welcome and a word of advice. We live in uncertain times. May you find courage and hope with your popcorn and pop. Always keep your phaser set on stun and follow the Prime Directive. And when your non-believing friends poke gentle fun at you, take the high road and offer the noblest of salutations for today and the future:

"Live long and prosper."

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