Captain Picard is awesome.

Not only is TNG the best Star Trek ever (yeah, I like Star Trek. It’s a childhood thing.), but Picard was the slickest captain.

Politicians and others interested in power have rigorously studied the words of powerful men, both historical and fictitious. Why? Because their sayings and thoughts may hold the secrets of power itself.

Take a look at Picard’s words. There is something supremely powerful about his tagline, ‘Make it so.’ It always makes me feel as though I could take something out of thin air and shape it into whatever I’d like.  The words are almost godlike. ‘He said. And it was.’

Picard’s catchphrase has inklings of magic. It employs the secrets of the universe for its own bidding, taking imagination and creating reality. This concept is, of course, most important for humanity and its identity. Nurtured, and, often, held secret because of its power, the notion is perennially revered by mystical traditions, religious institutions, secret societies and even scientific communities.

It is the strength of our imaginative powers that make us such a profound race. The imaginative intellect is the basis of both our spiritual and intellectual capacities. It is the application of this capacity that has allowed us to evolve (think primitive man conceiving the first tools) and its enkindling that will enable our future evolution.

The creative minds behind Star Trek show us a potential tangent of human evolution. Through the series, we are shown an idealistic universe in which humanity has surpassed its pettiness and greed. Contemporary capitalism is abrogated in favour of an egalitarian- and justice-driven socialist doctrine. Creativity, knowledge and science culminate in a society that embraces interdependence of not just the human race, but of all races. (Think Manifesto-style Marxism, but with aliens and warp speed.) In the future, we have tamed our lower selves and embraced our higher beings.

Mankind has even joined an interplanetary, United Nations-type of organisation, called The United Federation of Planets. The Federation (for short) aims to work in harmony to advance a universal civilisation, sharing and harnessing knowledge and resources in the name of peaceful progress. According to the ‘Charter of the United Federation of Planets,’ the directive is the promulgation of a better life for all sentient beings:

'We the life forms of the United Federation of Planets determined to save succeeding generations from the scourge of war and to reaffirm faith in the fundamental rights of sentient beings, in the dignity and worth of all life forms, in the equal rights of members of planetary systems large and small… and to promote social progress and better standards of living on all worlds...' (Source: http://memory-alpha.org/wiki/Federation_Charter) 

Definitely the result of rummagings of an idealist, we’re shown a self-actualised society that mirrors, or at least strives to mirror, the highest forms of Maslow’s hierarchy: morality, creativity, problem solving, lack of prejudice and the acceptance of facts. Gene Rodenberry (Star Trek’s creator, in case you haven’t Googled it yet)’s humankind is an enlightened and evolved humanity that reaches into the fabric of the universe to understand its workings and the nature of reality itself, while simultaneously practically applying this knowledge for the good of all.

It is in TNG’s Picard that we find an exemplary personification of this enlightened evolution. Everything about him seems to exude the best of natural selection. His posture was always perfect and supremely upright, like a yet further evolved humanoid. Even his bald head implies that he has shed any commonality with our hairy, crude primate ancestors. And where the showings of his physical characteristics taper, his intellectual ones swell, starting most notably with his tagline.

Star Trek tries to show to us the best of ourselves. The show itself is an impressive example of materialised imagination. Hopefully we will live up or, better yet, surpass the fictional standards it sets. Make it so.

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We all try to make the best of living in Dhaka. All of us have a few little nooks and crannies in the city that make us warm ‘n fuzzy when we feel we’re missing out on the rest of the world. One such nook is Fahim Music Store.

A bragging right when abroad, we tell people, ‘Oh, Wall Street 2? Yeah, I have that on DVD already. I got it for a dollar.’ And now, with the advent of WiMAX and worthwhile broadband Internet, we’re even downloading television shows and films at a decent speed, keeping us up to date with pop culture and its idioms.

These small simplicities keep us entertained and together in a city that, let’s face it, isn’t overflowing with leisure activities. Sure, we’ve got the expat clubs and the Aurum parties. We can hop over to Bangkok and party the night away; we can pop in and out of Nepal for a day of gambling or some nature; Malaysia and Singapore give us order in the face of chaos. But day-to-day, it’s the pirated DVDs and torrented media that keep us sane.

God knows we can’t rely on VH1, Star World and HBO South Asia to fill the void. There’s just no way. Seeing the same episode of White Collar every day for the entire week is almost enough to make one eat a bullet. And, worse, we’ve got the same old schedule of the not-as-fun, censored HBO South Asia (imagine watching Wild Things censored; ugh!) repeated and repeated and repeated. By the end of the month, you’ve watched half the movie 15 times, and you never want to see Brendan Fraser again lest you be enraged into a feral fit of violence of biblical proportions, directed at your new (highly taxed) flat panel TV. Solution? Downloads and dollar DVDs.

Everyone needs escapism – and in a city without a developed social or leisure scene, we need it the most. In Dhaka, we’ve made piracy a social pastime. Anything hip from overseas is cool, and whoever’s got it first is the coolest (until something newer and cooler comes around).

What else is there to do but gossip about TMZ and chat with friends about the new Entourage episode, or the winner of Project Runway or how Gossip Girl is ‘so Dhaka?’ And then there’s the added dimension of competition. Cultural exchange is fun. Who’s the first to be up to date on the shows; who got that wicked new Rhianna track featuring The BEP, Eminem, Guetta, Arctic Monkeys and Deadmau5 mixed over Pink Martini’s Sympathtique (don’t go looking for that track; it doesn’t exist).

But it’s not just about who knew about Modern Family first; who’s cool enough to watch Boardwalk Empire; how crazy Dexter has gotten; it’s about connecting with a shared culture we all left behind. We may have left the States or Canada or London, but we haven’t said good-bye. We’re Western educated 20- and 30-somethings, and we are cultural pirates.

We’re modern; we want the latest; we’re not willing to wait for it. We’ve been exposed to a certain level of access. What is a Gleek to do? It’s not that we hate artists, or don’t appreciate the laws and regulations. It’s simply that there are no other roads that lead us to the house of global entertainment.

Living in a developing country that adopts an anti-alcohol culture and has very few venues for social leisure (and even if it did, the monstrous traffic and non-existent transport infrastructure is a barrier to entry) just doesn’t leave many outlets for an energy that’s been created, but not lost – only suppressed. And, so, we download and buy pirated movies.

It may, however, be time to wave good-bye to the last vestiges of our real-time connection to global pop culture. The last remnants of hope may be about to expire. No longer will Bangladesh be a refuge for piracy, according to the following Daily Star article published in today’s business section:

http://www.thedailystar.net/newDesign/news-details.php?nid=160255

Though the article’s focus is on protecting the local entertainment industry, the severity of the uproar caused by blocking downloads will be worse than if I ever see Brendan Fraser on TV again. Just as horny teens rebel against abstinence by listening to the very television shows that I love and fornicate to their libidos’ content, so will I rebel. Well, not so, but probably in other ways.

If reports didn’t come daily regarding strict and quick government actions on various subjects that are destined to be left unfulfilled, I’d actually be scared. Let me tell you right now, I am not wearing a pop purity ring – no matter what the Bangladesh chapter of SRT threatens will happen if I continue to let my download bar grow and grow until it’s time for seeding.

Spartacus: Blood and Sand

Forget the fact that my major was Classics. It’s not about that. The grievous disappointments of Starz’s Spartacus: Blood and Sand run much deeper than rampant historical inaccuracies.

I like sex and gore as much as the next guy. I watched the terrorist tape of the journalist’s head being sawed off on YouTube (out of curiosity, not for any kind of gratification.) I watched that video of brutal death by police tasering of a mentally unstable Polish man at Vancouver International Airport. Hell, I even watched Two Girls, One Cup (a short that once watched, cannot be unwatched: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2_Girls_1_Cup). But the fact is, Spartacus was just plain boring.

It was at least pleasing to see that its story didn’t follow Kubrick’s historically inaccurate 1960 classic Spartacus, which implied that Spartacus’ slave uprising led to Rome’s revision of slavery laws. Though, that’s where the pleasure stops in terms of storytelling.

From the first moments of the first episode onward, the word that describes the show is ‘unnatural.’ The accents, ok, standard for period pieces, are British. Fair enough. But the language the characters use is plain awkward.

The formal language mixed with colloquial slang and cussing is so vexing that one can’t really concentrate on what the character is saying because one’s giggling at the idiocy of the writers. And Batiatus, oh, he was the worst: “That shit fuck…Once again the gods spread the cheeks and ram cock in fucking ass!” I mean, come on! Ram cock in fucking ass? How LOL is that!

The sex, gore and action direction is obviously gratuitous. Yes, the fighting was cool; there was a lot of crazy blood; the women were hot and naked, but that does not make up for a lack of a well told and developed story and solid character development. I will admit I found the characters well defined and interesting at first. Especially Doctore, Crixus, Batiatus and the Varro-Sparacus relationship; however, development failed to progress – stunting and looping around itself like an aborted fetus drawn by M.C. Escher.

The action sequences were kind of cool, but nothing revolutionary. There was too much use of slow motion. The scene transitions looked like a mix between the comic book feel of Ang Lee’s Hulk and Star Wars. They were out of place and irrelevant.

The set design was unexceptional: under-detailed, recurrent and obviously cheap.

Watching the show, I could see the producers standing in front of me literally insulting my intelligence. Sam Raimi stood next to my screen puffing his chest, drooling at the mouth, counting his wads of cash saying, “Dude. You are a dumb, fucking cunt. I mean it. You are really stupid.” And behind that evil twinkle in his eye, you could see him laughing at his perfect irony. He was doing exactly the same thing to me as Roman politicians did to the masses – threw them a gladiator match to keep their vulgar dispositions appeased. Cock in fucking ass.

All in all, the series was unimpressive and just didn’t quite fit properly together. The empty vessel of a series had story-repeating episodes that used sex and violence as filler and contained no solid themes. Spartacus: Blood and Sand would have been better off as a two and a half hour straight-to-DVD film. But that probably wouldn’t have made as much money.

Historical content-wise, there is much left of Spartacus’ story. I am sure these will be addressed in season two, but unless the second season improves leaps and bounds to proportions similar to those present in the jump from Hostel to Hostel 2 (both of which, funnily enough, are gratuitously gory films), I’ll be skipping Starz’s upcoming reprisal in January.

Recalling the sentiments of Billy Madison’s game show host at the end of his debate, for viewers of this show, everyone is now dumber for having watched it.