It's funny how people who use the word "privileged" in a social context are often among the most privileged themselves. The number of rich liberals is by no means small. Perhaps it's out of a sense of undeserved guilt for their money or the misguided notion that the government is the best means of giving to their communities that some of these upper-class leftists espouse things like high taxes or restrictions on commodities.
The problem is that while these elite liberals are busy attempting to give to the "underprivileged," they miss the fact that as "privileged" people (to use their term), they really don't have a great understanding of what it might mean to those they are attempting to help. In a nutshell, these men and women believe that the rich must provide for the poor and that they know what is best for the poor despite not being poor themselves.
This paternalistic attitude is problematic. The recent example of the debate over gun control provides an excellent example. Many wealthy people believe that guns should be more heavily restricted. Through the generosity of a family that lives in my neighborhood, I live in one of the richest neighborhoods in Philadelphia. A house down the street has a sign that basically advocates "common sense" gun laws (read gun control). They are able to do this without consequence because they live far removed from petty crime, or, in fact, crime of any sort.
In a lower-class neighborhood, advertising that you don't like guns is a very, very unwise move. It's kind of like taking a bucket of red paint and using it to write "rob me" on the side of your house. The reason rich leftists don't have to fear the consequences of being anti-gun is because they are effectively isolated from them. They have no experience with crime, so they assume a simplistic solution (take away guns, gun violence goes down). The problem is that, while these privileged liberals remain generally unaffected by changes in gun law, those who do not live in safe suburban environments do not. Sometimes good people live in less than ideal circumstances because they can't afford not to. Guns provide a cheap and easy means of self-defense in these circumstances, and by disallowing ownership of that means, the rich disarm the honest poor and leave the armed criminal element largely unaffected.
What you have to remember is that Newton wasn't shocking because people were shot to death. That happens every day in inner-city areas. It was shocking because the shooter and victims were upper-middle class white people.
The same phenomenon can be applied to economics. Liberals, especially rich ones, espouse high tax rates. That's because they can afford a hike in taxes. They can survive very comfortably on 50 - 90 percent of their income. To a lower-class individual, however, 10% of a paycheck might mean a difference in the number of meals eaten that week.
One might argue that rich liberals only advocate taxing the rich, but that doesn't make it better, because companies use the money they make to develop cheaper technologies that affect everyone. The difference is that a rich person doesn't care about lowered food prices, whereas a poor person does. If companies can spend what they pay in taxes on developing a cheaper grain, that's worth far more than a set welfare check in the long run.
The disconnect between rich and poor has been heavily debated in the media, but generally the conclusions are different than those drawn here. What has been largely overlooked is that many people funding the 99% movement aren't in the 99%. There's a reason for that. Being liberal doesn't mean you understand what it's like to be poor.
In the spirit of honesty, I don't know what it's like to be poor either. The major difference is that I don't advocate economic coercion on behalf of a group I know little about, preferring to stay out of what I can't understand rather than trying to fix it and potentially making it worse. I'm also a lot closer to poor on a sliding scale than upper-class suburban liberals, and while that's not worth much, I think it's worth something. I can honestly tell you I'd rather have cash in the hands of companies like Intel or Google than in the hands of a bunch of politicians, and while I'm sure that not all poor people agree with me, poor people, like every other group of people, are not homogeneous, and I'm sure some do agree with me. I'm looking at them as individuals with agency, not a block of helpless people or potential votes. If rich liberals wish to learn anything, I think the lesson that people are people regardless of income level is the most important one.
Ultimately, of course, I can't say I have all the answers to the economic problems of this country, but then again, neither to rich liberals. The difference is, I'm not pretending that I do.
Title taken from something my freshman roomate in college, who I don't actually know super well but who's a pretty decent guy, called me recently. I like to think it's accurate.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
The Tarnished Age
Let's get something out of the way: the past sucked.
As a history major, I see a lot of historical "analysis" that bugs me. It's an occupation hazard. Watching politicians, the media, tourists, or journalists make historical comparisons is cringeworthy in most cases, because it generally totally ignores historical complexity, usually boiling down to ridiculous surface level comparisons. A is like B because both involve C, and let's leave it at that. Never mind that the political and socieoeconomic circumstances were completely different.
One historical fallacy I see a lot is nostalgia. People somehow think that "back then," whether it be the 1940s or 50s or 1800s, was a simpler, more wholesome time. It wasn't.
The problem is that no one in the mainstream wants to envision a past with elements that were just as shitty, or shittier, than today's societal elements. While perusing Facebook, I found this example: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/steve-honig/golden-age-thinking_b_1178176.html.
This is a classic example of older people grumbling about "kids these days." (That happened a lot in the past too.) But the historical bubble this man is living in is one fabricated by the very media that makes up a huge part of his complaint. The reality is that the past featured a lot more death, destruction, hatred, and oppression than we like to acknowledge, and far more than exists today.
Let's examine this author's claim that "life was better" in the past. He is using the 1940s as a reference point, so let's look at what life was like in the 1940s. If you were a woman, you stayed in the house and probably didn't have access to a higher education or a career. You'd get married as a young woman if not as a teenager. You were more or less expected to take care of your husband and kids. Your likelihood of being beaten or raped was far higher than it is today, and you would have less of a chance legal recourse.
Of course, that's only if you were a white woman, because if you were a black woman, you'd have all that and probably a job as a domestic servant for white people.
If you were a black man, you were a second-class citizen, higher only than the black woman.
Those were the good options, of course. If you lived in parts of Europe, you might be either starving or being executed by your national government or the German government. Or both.
Ah the good old days.
What this amateur historian doesn't realize is that the past to which he's referring never existed. The advances in technology he blames for making people "rude" basically help us to do literally everything faster, including cure medical ailments, grow food, transmit information, and travel the globe. But, oh no! Kids are ruder! Ok, I admit, that's bad, but you know what's worse? THE HOLOCAUST.
People like this would be laughed out of a 100-level undergrad history class, and for that reason, maybe they should stop with the nostalgia. They're not really qualified to make these kinds of analyses, and when they do, they usually fuck it up. If you want to try, I encourage you to, but please at least read a book or two, because when you start saying things like the 1940s were better because people wore suits to the movies, and ignore things like one of the biggest genocides of all time, you look like a massive, massive moron. The good old days are now. 100 years from now, they will be then. That's how progress works. If you don't like it, Mr. Honig, then fine. Try living without 21st century amenities for a week.
Actually, that's a great idea. Maybe then people who publish columns like this on the Internet, won't. That's something I, and would think the rest of the professional historical community, could really get behind.
As a history major, I see a lot of historical "analysis" that bugs me. It's an occupation hazard. Watching politicians, the media, tourists, or journalists make historical comparisons is cringeworthy in most cases, because it generally totally ignores historical complexity, usually boiling down to ridiculous surface level comparisons. A is like B because both involve C, and let's leave it at that. Never mind that the political and socieoeconomic circumstances were completely different.
One historical fallacy I see a lot is nostalgia. People somehow think that "back then," whether it be the 1940s or 50s or 1800s, was a simpler, more wholesome time. It wasn't.
The problem is that no one in the mainstream wants to envision a past with elements that were just as shitty, or shittier, than today's societal elements. While perusing Facebook, I found this example: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/steve-honig/golden-age-thinking_b_1178176.html.
This is a classic example of older people grumbling about "kids these days." (That happened a lot in the past too.) But the historical bubble this man is living in is one fabricated by the very media that makes up a huge part of his complaint. The reality is that the past featured a lot more death, destruction, hatred, and oppression than we like to acknowledge, and far more than exists today.
Let's examine this author's claim that "life was better" in the past. He is using the 1940s as a reference point, so let's look at what life was like in the 1940s. If you were a woman, you stayed in the house and probably didn't have access to a higher education or a career. You'd get married as a young woman if not as a teenager. You were more or less expected to take care of your husband and kids. Your likelihood of being beaten or raped was far higher than it is today, and you would have less of a chance legal recourse.
Of course, that's only if you were a white woman, because if you were a black woman, you'd have all that and probably a job as a domestic servant for white people.
If you were a black man, you were a second-class citizen, higher only than the black woman.
Those were the good options, of course. If you lived in parts of Europe, you might be either starving or being executed by your national government or the German government. Or both.
Ah the good old days.
What this amateur historian doesn't realize is that the past to which he's referring never existed. The advances in technology he blames for making people "rude" basically help us to do literally everything faster, including cure medical ailments, grow food, transmit information, and travel the globe. But, oh no! Kids are ruder! Ok, I admit, that's bad, but you know what's worse? THE HOLOCAUST.
People like this would be laughed out of a 100-level undergrad history class, and for that reason, maybe they should stop with the nostalgia. They're not really qualified to make these kinds of analyses, and when they do, they usually fuck it up. If you want to try, I encourage you to, but please at least read a book or two, because when you start saying things like the 1940s were better because people wore suits to the movies, and ignore things like one of the biggest genocides of all time, you look like a massive, massive moron. The good old days are now. 100 years from now, they will be then. That's how progress works. If you don't like it, Mr. Honig, then fine. Try living without 21st century amenities for a week.
Actually, that's a great idea. Maybe then people who publish columns like this on the Internet, won't. That's something I, and would think the rest of the professional historical community, could really get behind.
Monday, March 4, 2013
"Tiberius? No, that's the worst!"
With the White House's recent scifi based gaffe, the field is wide open for political criticism of how Obama uses pop culture to make points even when it doesn't really apply and doesn't make his ideas any better. I could go there (because, let's face it, referencing Star Wars every once in a while doesn't make you NOT a murderer anymore) but I won't. You know where I'm going with this?
Why? Because it's Spring Break and I'm at work with nothing better to do. Also because you can't confuse a fantastic show with a racist series of movies (Really? There's only two black dudes in the whole galaxy and one of them dies? Unless you count Jar Jar Binks, but he's not really black; he's just a super-racist caricature of black people) and get away with it.
I previously wrote a review of why Star Trek is and always will be better than Star Wars, but that was on my old blog and that's gone now. I'm probably going to cover very similar points, and frankly, I doubt you'll care. That's fine. Gonna do it anyway, so let's get started.
I started with racism, so let's delve into that a bit, because it's a perfect example of the difference between the two series. Star Trek was aired in the 60s, back when it was totally acceptable to hate black people. Nevertheless, it prominently featured a black woman in a high-level position. That alone would be impressive, but here's the best part: the character is not "the black comm officer." She's just the comm officer. There's no reference made to her skin color. Ever. Because in the twenty-third century, no one gives a shit. Uhura is smart, pretty, and competent. That she is also Swahili has literally almost no impact on her character in the series. That's a view of race we still haven't achieved, and this show was portraying it in the 1960s.
Compare that with Star Wars. In an era where racism is actually not ok, George Lucas decided that he needed what is essentially a blackface actor without the blackface, and stereotypes of Asians and Jews in his movies. I'm still struggling to understand why people paid to see Episodes II and III after that and why there was not a bigger uproar over this. This isn't just Hollywood whitewashing; this is active racism in one of the biggest film franchises of all time.
I use this example because it's a good illustration of what these stories represent and how they're written. Star Trek is a show about social issues, life, and the human condition. Star Wars is largely a standard hero story. Granted, there's nothing wrong with that at all, but there's also not much groundbreaking going on where the plot is concerned.
It's not just the message that makes Star Trek better, though. For one thing, the aliens in Star Trek are way more realistic.
You read that correctly. Before you bring up the scene with the Gorn, let me do it for you. If you've watched that episode, you know that the Gorn aren't just generic lizard creatures: they are people. They have a race and a culture and a set of technology different from that of the United Federation of Planets. Kirk recognizes this and refuses to kill his Gorn adversary, because he respects sentient life in any form. This is a far more complex view of alien races (and assuming they actually exist somewhere, probably a more accurate one) than you find in any Star Wars movie. Given info solely from the movies, describe any race in Star Wars other than humans. The lack of detail about literally any of them may astound you when you actually think about it.
The Vulcans in Star Trek may be only actors with putty on their ears, but the show delves quite deeply into their biology, culture, architecture, philosophy, and more. Their arid desert world and devotion to pure logic make the Vulcans seem way more alien to us than say, the Jawas or Gungans, because we know more about them and the differences between them and Terrans are based on culture, not appearance. So while the special effects in Star Wars are better, the aliens aren't nearly as complex, and are therefore actually less alien. Sure, Wookies are covered in hair, but from the movies we glean nothing about their culture, so we can't see what makes them all that alien, other than their simple physical appearance. Given this shallow level of distinction, it's actually not hard at all to see how racism seeped into George Lucas's pet project. (If you're still not convinced, consider that Vulcan customs are loosely based on ancient Judaic ones, and that an actual Jew had a hand in creating that. Now think of Watto. Enough said.)
Realism is a constant issue in Star Wars, though, especially when it comes to the portrayal of personal relationships. The actors in the old one (especially Rick Dekkard, who played a phenomenal Han Solo after a brief stint retiring replicants in the Temple of Doom) made it work, but the writing just isn't always there. Hell, some of the best lines of the original trilogy were ad-libbed by Indiana Jones, because that guy is just a fantastic actor in addition to being a damn good archeologist.
All joking aside, when you examine Star Wars and the underlying writing, you realize just how much people like Harrison Ford and Carrie Fischer saved the damn movies. Keep in mind that Lucas had far less control over the original trilogy. The newer trilogy is essentially his baby. He had total control over it the whole time. Look how that ended up. The acting is flat, the characters' emotions are often exaggerated to the point of being cartoonish, and the dialogue just sucks. There's really no other way to put it.
I'll give an example. Let's examine how love is portrayed in Star Trek and how it's portrayed in Star Wars. In an early episode of Star Trek, Kirk is betrayed by a woman he's fallen in love with. In fact, he's forced to actually kill her. Naturally, this tears him up pretty considerably, and the complex emotions are portrayed very very well. At the end of the episode, one of the bridge members asks him if he's alright. Instead of responding the question, Kirk brusquely orders the ship ahead at warp. That's how someone might actually react to having to kill a loved one, because it's awful and you probably wouldn't want to talk about it, but you'd still be visibly upset.
Compare this to the love story between Anakin and Padme. It's forced and a little creepy. Anakin is a volatile man with the emotions of a disturbed teenager. He hasn't seen Padme in ten years when he starts hitting on her (extremely badly). Yet somehow Padme falls in love with him based on nothing but a connection they had when he was ten years old and she was 18, even though her entire interaction with him as an adult consists of him being borderline abusive and massively creepy. At one point, he tells her he killed an entire village, including women and children. (Now if that doesn't get a girl hot, I don't know what does.) Yet somehow, Padme falls for this guy even though he's immature, disturbed, and actually a murderer. There's really no indication given, because Padme doesn't talk a whole lot, and when she does, she drones.
Given that Natalie Portman is actually a pretty funny and dynamic person when she interviews on talk shows and such and that she's done at least decent acting in other films, you kind of have to chalk up her terrible performance in Star Wars to bad directing and really bad writing. The love story isn't really all that romantic because Lucas essentially has the writing skills of a thirteen-year old boy.
Even if you took out all the bad writing, racism, and shallow portrayal of alien races, however, you're still left with one huge fundamental difference: Star Trek is based on an attainable and positive future. Star Wars is based on a dark and simplified past. Star Trek is what you want the future to be. Most of Earth's demographic problems are solved, the quality of life is awesome, the government hesitates to ever go to war and when it does it's usually pretty merciful unless directly attacked, and technology is ridiculously helpful, if somewhat quirky and occasionally problematic. The Federation has a past and a real character. It's a generally good organization with decent, skilled people, but still prone to the bickering and political infighting any such organization would have. Compare this to the Star Wars universe, set in a past a long way from us, where a rebel alliance whose origins and organization we don't know about are fighting an Empire that's, you know, bad, because they blow up planets and stuff. Star Trek is about the future of humanity, and it's a big, bright, positive, attainable future. Star Wars is about some stuff that happened "a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away." Frankly, why should we give a shit?
This is the main reason I strongly, strongly, prefer Star Trek. The future portrayed is a plausible one and you feel like you have stake in what happens. The characters are just so much more engaging and real, people with whom one can emotionally connect. That's why the 2009 iteration of Star Trek, which features TOS characters played by great actors, remains one of only two movies that can make me tear up. When I watch Star Wars, on the other hand, I'm usually wont to pick up a video game or book while I'm watching it, because it simply doesn't engage me the way Star Trek does.
I'll give Star Wars credit where credit is due. It was groundbreaking in the special effects department, and it got people into science fiction in a way Star Trek couldn't. The problem is that that's because Star Wars is essentially pop sci-fi. People who don't fully understand the potential power of the genre and never pick up a real work of science fiction still love Star Wars. And that's fine. But if we judge the series on an objective level, especially including the new trilogy, it's mediocre at best. That's why when Barack Obama confuses them, it hurts my inner geek. (And when I use the term, I mean it. There's a difference between real geekiness and just watching Doctor Who occasionally and calling yourself a nerd. That'll be the subject for another post, I'm sure.)
So no, Barack Obama. The Vulcans and the Jedi are not the same thing. Because while they're both fictional, one is the creation of a man who knew how to write and had more imagination in his pinky toe than most people have in their whole body and one is the daydream of a a man who writes like a thirteen-year old and happens to have a lot of cash. The only thing you have in common with geeks is that both have a tendency to use expensive remote-controlled shit. The difference is that one group doesn't use it to kill people. So please just go back to talking without saying anything, because frankly, that was much much better.
Why? Because it's Spring Break and I'm at work with nothing better to do. Also because you can't confuse a fantastic show with a racist series of movies (Really? There's only two black dudes in the whole galaxy and one of them dies? Unless you count Jar Jar Binks, but he's not really black; he's just a super-racist caricature of black people) and get away with it.
I previously wrote a review of why Star Trek is and always will be better than Star Wars, but that was on my old blog and that's gone now. I'm probably going to cover very similar points, and frankly, I doubt you'll care. That's fine. Gonna do it anyway, so let's get started.
I started with racism, so let's delve into that a bit, because it's a perfect example of the difference between the two series. Star Trek was aired in the 60s, back when it was totally acceptable to hate black people. Nevertheless, it prominently featured a black woman in a high-level position. That alone would be impressive, but here's the best part: the character is not "the black comm officer." She's just the comm officer. There's no reference made to her skin color. Ever. Because in the twenty-third century, no one gives a shit. Uhura is smart, pretty, and competent. That she is also Swahili has literally almost no impact on her character in the series. That's a view of race we still haven't achieved, and this show was portraying it in the 1960s.
Compare that with Star Wars. In an era where racism is actually not ok, George Lucas decided that he needed what is essentially a blackface actor without the blackface, and stereotypes of Asians and Jews in his movies. I'm still struggling to understand why people paid to see Episodes II and III after that and why there was not a bigger uproar over this. This isn't just Hollywood whitewashing; this is active racism in one of the biggest film franchises of all time.
I use this example because it's a good illustration of what these stories represent and how they're written. Star Trek is a show about social issues, life, and the human condition. Star Wars is largely a standard hero story. Granted, there's nothing wrong with that at all, but there's also not much groundbreaking going on where the plot is concerned.
It's not just the message that makes Star Trek better, though. For one thing, the aliens in Star Trek are way more realistic.
You read that correctly. Before you bring up the scene with the Gorn, let me do it for you. If you've watched that episode, you know that the Gorn aren't just generic lizard creatures: they are people. They have a race and a culture and a set of technology different from that of the United Federation of Planets. Kirk recognizes this and refuses to kill his Gorn adversary, because he respects sentient life in any form. This is a far more complex view of alien races (and assuming they actually exist somewhere, probably a more accurate one) than you find in any Star Wars movie. Given info solely from the movies, describe any race in Star Wars other than humans. The lack of detail about literally any of them may astound you when you actually think about it.
The Vulcans in Star Trek may be only actors with putty on their ears, but the show delves quite deeply into their biology, culture, architecture, philosophy, and more. Their arid desert world and devotion to pure logic make the Vulcans seem way more alien to us than say, the Jawas or Gungans, because we know more about them and the differences between them and Terrans are based on culture, not appearance. So while the special effects in Star Wars are better, the aliens aren't nearly as complex, and are therefore actually less alien. Sure, Wookies are covered in hair, but from the movies we glean nothing about their culture, so we can't see what makes them all that alien, other than their simple physical appearance. Given this shallow level of distinction, it's actually not hard at all to see how racism seeped into George Lucas's pet project. (If you're still not convinced, consider that Vulcan customs are loosely based on ancient Judaic ones, and that an actual Jew had a hand in creating that. Now think of Watto. Enough said.)
Realism is a constant issue in Star Wars, though, especially when it comes to the portrayal of personal relationships. The actors in the old one (especially Rick Dekkard, who played a phenomenal Han Solo after a brief stint retiring replicants in the Temple of Doom) made it work, but the writing just isn't always there. Hell, some of the best lines of the original trilogy were ad-libbed by Indiana Jones, because that guy is just a fantastic actor in addition to being a damn good archeologist.
All joking aside, when you examine Star Wars and the underlying writing, you realize just how much people like Harrison Ford and Carrie Fischer saved the damn movies. Keep in mind that Lucas had far less control over the original trilogy. The newer trilogy is essentially his baby. He had total control over it the whole time. Look how that ended up. The acting is flat, the characters' emotions are often exaggerated to the point of being cartoonish, and the dialogue just sucks. There's really no other way to put it.
I'll give an example. Let's examine how love is portrayed in Star Trek and how it's portrayed in Star Wars. In an early episode of Star Trek, Kirk is betrayed by a woman he's fallen in love with. In fact, he's forced to actually kill her. Naturally, this tears him up pretty considerably, and the complex emotions are portrayed very very well. At the end of the episode, one of the bridge members asks him if he's alright. Instead of responding the question, Kirk brusquely orders the ship ahead at warp. That's how someone might actually react to having to kill a loved one, because it's awful and you probably wouldn't want to talk about it, but you'd still be visibly upset.
Compare this to the love story between Anakin and Padme. It's forced and a little creepy. Anakin is a volatile man with the emotions of a disturbed teenager. He hasn't seen Padme in ten years when he starts hitting on her (extremely badly). Yet somehow Padme falls in love with him based on nothing but a connection they had when he was ten years old and she was 18, even though her entire interaction with him as an adult consists of him being borderline abusive and massively creepy. At one point, he tells her he killed an entire village, including women and children. (Now if that doesn't get a girl hot, I don't know what does.) Yet somehow, Padme falls for this guy even though he's immature, disturbed, and actually a murderer. There's really no indication given, because Padme doesn't talk a whole lot, and when she does, she drones.
Given that Natalie Portman is actually a pretty funny and dynamic person when she interviews on talk shows and such and that she's done at least decent acting in other films, you kind of have to chalk up her terrible performance in Star Wars to bad directing and really bad writing. The love story isn't really all that romantic because Lucas essentially has the writing skills of a thirteen-year old boy.
Even if you took out all the bad writing, racism, and shallow portrayal of alien races, however, you're still left with one huge fundamental difference: Star Trek is based on an attainable and positive future. Star Wars is based on a dark and simplified past. Star Trek is what you want the future to be. Most of Earth's demographic problems are solved, the quality of life is awesome, the government hesitates to ever go to war and when it does it's usually pretty merciful unless directly attacked, and technology is ridiculously helpful, if somewhat quirky and occasionally problematic. The Federation has a past and a real character. It's a generally good organization with decent, skilled people, but still prone to the bickering and political infighting any such organization would have. Compare this to the Star Wars universe, set in a past a long way from us, where a rebel alliance whose origins and organization we don't know about are fighting an Empire that's, you know, bad, because they blow up planets and stuff. Star Trek is about the future of humanity, and it's a big, bright, positive, attainable future. Star Wars is about some stuff that happened "a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away." Frankly, why should we give a shit?
This is the main reason I strongly, strongly, prefer Star Trek. The future portrayed is a plausible one and you feel like you have stake in what happens. The characters are just so much more engaging and real, people with whom one can emotionally connect. That's why the 2009 iteration of Star Trek, which features TOS characters played by great actors, remains one of only two movies that can make me tear up. When I watch Star Wars, on the other hand, I'm usually wont to pick up a video game or book while I'm watching it, because it simply doesn't engage me the way Star Trek does.
I'll give Star Wars credit where credit is due. It was groundbreaking in the special effects department, and it got people into science fiction in a way Star Trek couldn't. The problem is that that's because Star Wars is essentially pop sci-fi. People who don't fully understand the potential power of the genre and never pick up a real work of science fiction still love Star Wars. And that's fine. But if we judge the series on an objective level, especially including the new trilogy, it's mediocre at best. That's why when Barack Obama confuses them, it hurts my inner geek. (And when I use the term, I mean it. There's a difference between real geekiness and just watching Doctor Who occasionally and calling yourself a nerd. That'll be the subject for another post, I'm sure.)
So no, Barack Obama. The Vulcans and the Jedi are not the same thing. Because while they're both fictional, one is the creation of a man who knew how to write and had more imagination in his pinky toe than most people have in their whole body and one is the daydream of a a man who writes like a thirteen-year old and happens to have a lot of cash. The only thing you have in common with geeks is that both have a tendency to use expensive remote-controlled shit. The difference is that one group doesn't use it to kill people. So please just go back to talking without saying anything, because frankly, that was much much better.
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