#Its just insane that out of all the possible things that id appreciate the three things ive been given my whole damn life

[onlyjellyillputinmybelly]

I wish that presents for any holiday would stop being about how fancy of a thing you can get or how many things you can get someone. I will never use any of this shit and you are wasting your money. Gifts should be from the heart, not the wallet.

[fireinmywoods]

the heart of the matter (is Leonard McCoy)

Followers...friends. I come to you today, hat in hand, to ask for your support in a certain fandom matter, a trifling concern of little real consequence which nevertheless has been driving me absolutely cross-eyed bonkers for some years now.

Simply put: can we please all agree that Bones is the heart of the Enterprise???

In AOS, I mean. I’m not aware of any debate over this when it comes to TOS, where the roles of the triumvirate have always been explicit, though there are a few different ways to identify them:

Spock = logos = superego = head

Bones = pathos = id = heart

Kirk = ethos = ego = soul

So clear! So clean! So universally accepted by Trek fandom at large!

Oh, but things get murkier in AOS, and there are plenty of posts floating around which suggest that it’s Kirk, not McCoy, who serves as the heart in the Kelvin timeline. Even the writers of the first two AOS films have outright stated that their interpretation of the triumvirate had the original roles switched, with Kirk as the highly emotional one and McCoy as the arbiter between Kirk’s passion and Spock’s logic. It’s true that this technically counts as a Word of God pronouncement by the actual creators of 2/3 of the series thus far, which some would argue renders it canon. However, it’s equally true that those same creators also felt that Kirk was a fuckboi and that Benedict Cumberbatch wonderfully embodied their vision for Khan Noonien Singh, so honestly, who gives a hot hollerin’ fuck what those dingdongs think. This seems as justified a time as any to invoke Death of the Author, and in fact, it’s my firm belief that despite the writers’ intentions, Star Trek and Into Darkness both support the original triumvirate breakdown.

Under the cut you’ll find a long-winded and self-indulgent ~*~character analysis~*~ of the Kelvin-timeline incarnations of Jim Kirk and Leonard “Bones” McCoy, reviewing why Leonard is still unmistakably the heart, unpacking what the hell Jim’s deal is, and finally taking a look at some key examples from canon, because ya girl believes in showing her work.

Let’s get down to business.

[A quick warning, as this is starting to spread beyond my own followers: if you don’t like McKirk as a romantic pairing, you ain’t gonna like part IV, so I’d bow out before then or just take your leave now.]

i. Leonard

Independent of Jim’s characterization, it should be blindingly obvious that Leonard is the heart. He’s by far the most nakedly emotional of our seven core crew members, a trait we see writ large and small throughout the films. He’s reactive; he’s passionate; he’s humane. He cares, first and foremost.

Not about Starfleet, of course. Leonard doesn’t give a damn about playing the game or advancing his career, or even really about the Enterprise’s mission - he has no desire to explore strange new worlds, he’ll pass on seeking out new life and new civilizations, and he spends half his time trying to convince everyone else that boldly going where no man has gone before is a great way to die horribly. Fuck exploration, fuck space, and fuck the Federation while we’re at it. Leonard is perhaps the most improbable of the Enterprise’s senior officers for the simple reason that he seems to resent everything about the job.

Well. Almost everything.

See, what Leonard cares about is people. He cares about their lives, about their stories, about their hopes and dreams, about their suffering. That’s why he entered and has stayed in an extremely taxing caring profession, and it’s why he’s still on the Enterprise despite his incessant bitching about everything they do. He wouldn’t trust anyone else to take care of the crew he’s become so attached to, and he finds fulfillment in helping the people they encounter out there in the nightmare of space.

In every timeline, Leonard McCoy defines himself by what he can do for others: the pain he can ameliorate, the wounds he can heal, the diseases he can cure, the small amounts of good he can bring to a galaxy filled with so much absolute horseshit. Unlike most of his colleagues, he’s not motivated by curiosity or an adventurer’s spirit or a burning desire to make sense of the universe. (Fuck the universe, too, as a matter of fact.) Instead, he’s driven by the incredible depths of his compassion and empathy and concern for the people he serves alongside and those they meet along the way.

Sure sounds like the heart to me.

ii. Jim

I actually totally get why some people characterize Kelvin-timeline Jim as the heart. He’s quite literally a different man than the original timeline’s Kirk, and he definitely has more of the pathos qualities to him. Early on, he’s a total spitfire, fierce and hot-blooded, quick to anger and other sharp-edged emotions we’re not used to associating with James T. Kirk. Even as he grows into himself and leaves some of those traits behind, he remains spontaneous, passionate, protective, and self-sacrificing - easy enough to mistake for the heart if you squint.

But let’s not confuse having a heart for being the heart. Sure, Jim is more openly emotional and reactive than his TOS counterpart, but there’s still a marked difference between the way he and Leonard express and act on their emotions.

AOS Jim definitely has a lot of feelings - big ones - but at the end of the day, he’s not driven by his heart. He’s driven by his gut.

Whenever there’s trouble, Jim makes a beeline right for the center of it. He’s impulsive as hell, rarely pausing to think past his first instinct, because he just wants to be doing something, no matter the odds, no matter what it costs him. He explicitly calls himself out on this in ST:ID when arguing with Spock: “I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. I only know what I can do.” He doesn’t have the patience or the constitution to sit and debate all the options, either internally or with his crew. If there’s a path forward from where he is, even a bad one, Jim’s gonna take it.

[Sidebar: One could make the case that the roots of Jim’s instinct to act reach back to his childhood traumas - canonically ignored abuse and neglect on the one hand, and the Tarsus IV famine and massacre on the other - but that’s a whole post on its own and we ain’t got all day here.]

Jim can’t not act, and while that gets him into a lot of trouble, it also saves lives. Sulu probably appreciated that Jim’s gut drove him to leap off Nero’s drilling platform without a moment’s hesitation after a man he’d only just met. He may have been a real shithead about it, but Jim’s impassioned insistence on going after the Narada and not wasting time on the possibility of a better option was key to saving Pike and Earth itself. And I don’t know why Spock was so surprised that Jim intervened to save him on Nibiru, considering that the reason they were there in the first place was because Jim couldn’t sit back and watch the Nibirans die when there was something his crew could do to help them, even if it meant risking a violation of the Prime Directive.

Jim is a good man with a big heart, and he cares about people, absolutely. But he cares most of all about Doing The Right Thing - which in the heat of the moment often translates to Doing Something, Anything, Hold My Beer.

iii. heart vs. gut (i.e., time for some receipts)

I think one of the main reasons Leonard and Jim’s characterizations get confused is because they both tend to act on instinct, only lightly informed by higher reasoning. However, I’d argue that their motivations and the nature of those actions are super distinct, and those distinctions remain relatively consistent throughout all three films. (And y’all know I really mean this shit if I’m out here calling ST:ID consistent.)

Jim is a big picture guy, figuratively and often literally heaving himself full-body into the mix of whatever problem the crew has encountered for lack of any better alternative. That energy propels the plots of all three films: the chaotic path he carves through the events of Star Trek and ST:ID, and the slightly calmer but still undeniably bananas course he charts for himself and his crew in the second half of Beyond.

As the heart, Leonard operates on a more micro level. His concern invariably lies with the individual people caught up in those grand events Captain Chaos is busy dragging them all through. While Jim’s zooming around flipping plot switches, Leonard can always be counted on to bring it back to the personal.

We frequently see this juxtaposed right there on film. Think of that slow pan through medbay in the first movie after the Narada’s ambush and the destruction of Vulcan: while Jim is stewing over what to do about the Big Bad, Leonard has stepped into the CMO role without fuss or fanfare to care for the wounded crew and traumatized survivors.

Or jump ahead to Beyond: during Krall’s attack on the Enterprise, there’s a gorgeous cinematic shot of Jim sprinting down the corridor with two crew members to take on the invaders - and then we cut to Leonard moving slowly through those same ghastly red-lit corridors, searching for casualties in need of help, visibly affected by what his scanner is telling him about the downed crewman he tries to save.

Actually, Beyond as a whole does terrific justice to each of their roles. (Perhaps because it was not written by dingdongs.) The first act finds Jim flailing around for a sense of purpose and forward momentum - an understandable consequence of a gut-driven character having stalled out for too long - and he ultimately gets his mojo back by spending the rest of the film careening through one insane seat-of-his-pants ploy after another. Meanwhile, in the quieter moments between all the mayhem, Leonard serves as the empathetic sounding board for both Jim and Spock as they struggle with deep emotionally charged secrets and Big Life Questions, helping them untangle their feelings and reminding them of the emotional attachments which are ultimately key to their respective decisions to stay on the Enterprise.

More examples, you say? Don’t mind if I do!

Star Trek

GUT: Jim hurtles around the Narada, improvising almost every step of the way and paying the price for his and Spock’s scheme in bodily harm, and ultimately succeeds in rescuing Pike. HEART: Leonard calls out for Jim as he runs into the transporter room, overwhelmed with relief that he’s made it back, and takes Chris Pike’s weight literally and figuratively onto his own shoulders to begin healing him while Jim runs back off to the center of the action.

Star Trek: Into Darkness

GUT: Jim argues with Leonard, Spock, and Scotty in quick succession as he’s preparing to drag them all off to Qo’noS, immune to their attempts to reason with him because, unraveled as he is by grief and pain, he can only focus on his visceral drive to Do Something. HEART: Unlike the others, Leonard is upset not about the larger moral questions of whether it’s right to go after John Harrison or bring torpedoes aboard the ship, but about the fact that Jim himself is hurt and hurting and won’t accept help.

GUT: Jim makes a snap decision to sacrifice himself by hurling his body against the warp core to realign it and save his crew. HEART: Shellshocked by the emotional grenade of his best friend’s death, Leonard suddenly realizes, through the haze of his own numbness and upswelling grief, that he might still be able to do something for this lonely radiation-ravaged body he’s been brought and the life it represents.

Star Trek Beyond

GUT: At the tail end of an improvised plan to out-maneuver Kalara, Jim quite literally shoots first and asks questions later, igniting a fuel tank and setting off an explosive series of events which he and Chekov just barely escape. HEART: The next time we see Leonard, Spock is opening up to him about Ambassador Spock’s death and his own plan to leave Starfleet for New Vulcan - and while he’s empathetic toward Spock (I can’t imagine what that must feel like), Leonard’s thoughts go immediately to the emotional impact of Spock’s plan on the other people he’s closest with. (I can see how that would upset [Nyota]. / I can tell you, [Jim]’s not gonna like that.)

GUT: Jim frantically strains to reach the final switch in the life support hub, believing that he’s going to die either way since the vent has already opened, but spurred on by the knowledge that his ability to move that switch is the only thing standing between Yorktown and annihilation. HEART: Knowing exactly what’s at stake, with the fate of the station and millions of lives hanging in the balance, Leonard’s greatest concern is that Jim won’t make it out in time.

iv. never bet against the heart

Let’s wrap this up with a deep dive on one of the absolute best examples of Leonard as the heart: his decision to sneak Jim onto the Enterprise in the first movie.

As relentlessly as I drag him for the, you know, poisoning and kidnapping aspects of that whole deal, there’s no denying that it is a god-tier heart move. Is it logical? Absolutely not. Is it really the right thing to do for either himself or Jim, as far as he knows at the time? Nope. It’s 100% the wrong choice for his own job security, reputation, and relationships with his fellow crew, and it’s almost guaranteed to get Jim into even worse trouble. Leonard is a smart dude who must understand that this course of action will likely end up coming back on them both in a real bad way. For someone who argues loudly and often in defense of self-preservation, this is a shockingly bad idea.

But none of that matters, because Jim shakes his hand and tells him to be safe with that horrible empty-eyed smile, and it gets him right in the heart, one-two-three.

One: sympathy, worry, and affection for Jim - his best friend, his wild and troublesome stray, his only family.

Two: guilt over adding onto Jim’s pain, and the instinctive urge to fix whatever‘s hurting him.

Three: fear of heading out into the unknown by himself, the agonizing uncertainty of not knowing what’s coming, craving for the security and reassurance Jim’s presence would give him.

“Dammit,” Leonard says, as his heart wins out over his brain. He knows this is a garbage plan, and he doesn’t care. His heart chooses Jim. That’s all that matters.

So he goes back for Jim, and to his own surprise it turns out that this Very Bad Idea was actually a Very Good Idea because Jim’s impulsive instincts end up saving Earth, and Leonard’s not in the habit of fixing what ain’t broke so he figures he may as well keep on chasing Jim’s crazy ass around the galaxy for a while, through jungles and off cliffs and into the goddamn afterlife when need be, until finally one day Jim’s gut drives him right into Leonard’s arms and he suddenly realizes that this is what his heart was choosing all those years ago: Jim’s wide terrified eyes, Jim’s voice breaking over his name, Jim’s hand pressing hard against his chest, reaching out for what’s his.

But that’s another story.

[per-ineptia-ad-astra]

Star Trek Episode 1.15: Shore Leave

AKA Rabbits and Pistols and Women, Oh My 

Our episode begins on the bridge, where Kirk is looking over a pad with a yeoman while awaiting a report from a landing party. He gets a kink in his back, so the yeoman starts giving him a backrub, but since both she and Spock are standing behind Kirk he doesn’t realize who is giving him the backrub. This results in quite possibly one of the most infamous lines in all of Star Trek.

[ID: Kirk sitting in his chair on the bridge, his back being rubbed by a brown-haired yeoman, caught in a moment of realization as he says, “Dig it in there, Mr. Sp--” and sees Spock walking past him.]

As everyone does their best to pretend that didn’t just happen, the yeoman says that Kirk needs sleep. Kirk replies that he gets enough of that from McCoy. Presumably he means that McCoy has been telling him that he needs to sleep, and not that McCoy is somehow giving him sleep, although really, anything’s possible. Spock says McCoy is right—wow, get that one on tape—Kirk and everyone onboard need rest after what they’ve been through the past three months. (Exactly what that is is left to the imagination.) Everyone except Spock, of course. He’s fine. He’s always fine. Evidently Kirk is too tired to bother putting up a fight about this, because he tells Uhura to send the landing party report to his quarters and staggers off the bridge.

We then see said landing party down on the nearby planet, which is so unbelievably lush and green that it has actual trees and grass instead of a soundstage with some foliage stuck on.

[ID: McCoy and Sulu walking down a sunlit grassy lane with trees to the right and tall plants at the edge of a pond to the left.]

McCoy and Sulu are naturally quite awed at this incredible beauty. Sulu says that it has no people and no animals, making it perfect for relaxation. No animals? Wow, that must be a really interesting ecosystem—how did a whole planet evolve with no animal life, while still resembling Earth so closely? The plants would have to have evolved unique mechanisms for reproduction without animal life to help pollinate them, not to mention the effect that no herbivorous consumption would have and—right, sorry. No animals means a good vacation! That’s the important thing. I guess.

Anyway, McCoy thinks the planet is just the place for some relaxation time for the crew, if they can get Kirk to authorize shore leave there. It does seem like a nice place to chill out after a lot of stress, but I question the Starfleet policy of letting crews take shore leave on random newly discovered planets as long as they don’t appear to have sapient native life as determined by some people wandering around on a small portion of it for a few hours. There could be plenty of threats there that they just haven’t uncovered—or, on the flipside, a whole crew full of people beaming down to loiter around could wreck havoc on an alien ecosystem. But, eh, it’s just plants, it’ll be fine.

McCoy comments that “you have to see this place to believe it—it’s like something out of Alice in Wonderland.” Bones, my man, I don’t know what copy of Alice in Wonderland you read, but I don’t remember its primary feature being nice-but-totally-normal-and-physics-obeying parkland.

Sulu stops to get some samples of the plant life, while McCoy wanders off happily, obviously enjoying the chance to just have a nice stroll through nature and chew on a stalk of grass. That is, until he spots something...unexpected.

[ID: A large humanoid white rabbit standing among the foliage, wearing a checked red and yellow shirt, yellow waistcoat, and brown and gray neckcloth, with an umbrella tucked under one arm.]

The rabbit exclaims that he’ll be late and hops (sort off) off through the undergrowth. A moment later a young girl in a blue and white dress runs up and asks McCoy if he’s seen a rabbit around. All poor Bones can do is point mutely in the direction the rabbit went, and the girl gives him a curtsy and runs after the rabbit.

McCoy stands there in abject shock for a moment before managing to bellow for Sulu, who comes running. Despite being only a few yards away, Sulu was evidently too absorbed with horticulture to notice any of what just happened, and there’s now no sign of either rabbit or girl. He asks McCoy what’s wrong, but McCoy can’t seem to find the words, and really, can you blame him?

[ID: McCoy standing by the edge of a pond, holding a grass straw tensely and staring in front of him while Sulu puts a hand on his shoulder and asks, “What is it, doc?”]

“Oh god, this is it. I knew this job was going to drive me insane and it’s FINALLY HAPPENED.”

After the break we get a captain’s log from Kirk talking about how nice this planet they found is. You can tell he’s tired and kind of out of it from the way he rambles a bit, and takes a moment to remember the entire stardate. Despite this, the yeoman currently talking to him in his room notes that he isn’t in any of the shore leave parties. Kirk waves this off and dismisses her, but this does nothing for Kirk’s solitude because she is immediately replaced by Spock.

Kirk asks Spock which shore leave party he wants to go with, but Spock says he’s not interested in going at all. On Vulcan, he says, “to rest is to rest, to cease using energy. To me, it is quite illogical to run up and down on green grass using energy instead of saving it.” Well, it would be. Your planet doesn’t have any green grass. The idea of going outside to relax probably would be pretty foreign on Vulcan, which is generally rather lacking in environments that anyone would consider relaxing.

The conversation is interrupted by Uhura paging Kirk to say there’s a call from McCoy. Kirk genially tells her to open a channel, little suspecting what this conversation is going to be about.

McCoy—remarkably calmly—says that either all their sensor probes are defective, or he is. Kirk naturally asks him to explain, leaving McCoy in the unenviable position of having to describe what he just saw. Kirk takes the whole story to be a joke, while Spock stands there rolling his eyes to the heavens. It’s understandable enough; even for people with as many weird experiences as these guys, giant talking rabbits aren’t something you expect to encounter, although I have heard that they appear here and there, now and then, to this one and that one.

Kirk figures that this is a trick of McCoy’s to get him to come down to the planet—that he doesn’t think Kirk will come down for shore leave unless he’s baited with a bit of mystery. Which doesn’t sound terribly like McCoy, I have to say. He seems less likely to make up a weird story about a rabbit as part of a cunning plan to lure Kirk into shore leave, and more likely to just physically drag him down to the planet by the ear.

Spock, evidently deciding not to get involved in these weird human things, says that actually he did have something he came here to discuss. He’s checked Dr. McCoy’s log—pre-rabbit sightings—and apparently there’s a crew member aboard who’s being a bit of a problem.

“[He’s] showing signs of stress and fatigue, reaction time down nine to twelve percent, associational reading norm minus three.”

“That’s much too low a rating.”

“He’s becoming irritable and quarrelsome, yet he refuses to take rest and rehabilitation. Now he has that right, but we’ve found--”

“A crewman’s right ends where the safety of the ship begins. Now, that man will go ashore on my orders. What’s his name?”

“James Kirk.”

[ID: 1. Spock looking at Kirk with a look of mock surprise and innocence while saying, “James Kirk.” 2. Kirk stares back at Spock. 3. Spock saying, “Enjoy yourself, Captain,” with a decidedly smug smile. 4. Kirk staring at Spock, now with a GTA-style overlay saying ‘wasted’.]

Weeeeelll, there’s not a whole lot Kirk can do about that devastating takedown except swallow the pill and go take some shore leave already. Spock tells him that they’ve detected no animals, no artifacts, no force fields (? was that a potential problem?), it’s just a nice pleasant green planet. But even as he’s saying this we see, down on said pleasant green planet, a rock by a pond slowly move aside on its own to reveal….A GUN! No, not a phaser—an actual, old-fashioned revolver. Dammit! The NRA got here before us!

Unknowing of the terrible threat looming nearby, a couple of crewmen—a goldshirt woman and a blueshirt man—are investigating some of the plant life. The blueshirt is intent on scanning some ferns, prompting a complaint from the goldshirt that he’s too focused on work, work, work, and not appreciating the natural loveliness all around them. The blueshirt responds that he’s focused on work because they’re working—they’ve got a report to make to the captain and things aren’t going to be nearly so pleasant if it’s not ready on time. Right after he says that, who should beam down but Kirk himself, along with the yeoman. Oh man, speak of the devil. Don’t you hate it when you’re talking about your boss and he immediately materializes out of thin air in front of you?

Luckily for the crewmen—Rodriguez and Teller, Kirk calls them—he’s not here to crack the whip. Told that they’ve finished the survey, he tells them to submit it to Spock and then clock out and enjoy themselves. Incidentally, Kirk calls the goldshirt Teller, but she’s played by the same actress who played Martine last episode. The character was named ‘Mary Teller’ in the script, but once they got on set someone noticed that they had—again, somehow—accidentally cast someone who had already appeared as a named character, and changed her first name to Angela to match Martine...but as you can see, it’s a bit inconsistent. And a bit jarring, if she is the same character, to see her so bright and happy and with budding romantic tension between her and Rodriguez, considering what happened to her last week. It worked out pretty well when they did this with Riley, but this time, not so much.

At any rate, Rodriguez points Kirk over to where Sulu and McCoy were. Kirk and the yeoman head over there, talking a bit about how incredibly beautiful the surroundings are. The amount that this planet gets talked up in the episode initially struck me as a bit odd; don’t get me wrong, it’s quite nice and pretty, but I don’t think I would call it jaw-droppingly, impossibly gorgeous. But then, y’know, I see trees everyday. I can see trees right now just by turning my head about ninety degrees. If I spent the majority of my life in a spaceship, seeing the same gray, florescent-lit surroundings every day, breathing in sterilized air and rarely seeing any space more open than Engineering, I’d probably be awestruck at the first bit of green I saw in months too.  

The captain and the yeoman find McCoy some way away, still standing by the pond and brooding over his sanity. Kirk is all ready to set into some teasing about rabbits and the sighting thereof, but while McCoy is still not entirely sure he didn’t hallucinate the whole thing, he’s got at least one thing a bit less easy to dismiss: large footprints in the dirt nearby.

[ID: Kirk kneeling in a dirt track, examining two sets of four-toed footprints.]

Those don’t look a great deal like rabbit tracks, but then, that didn’t look a great deal like an actual rabbit either. Kirk is, reasonably enough, not quite ready to commit to giant talking rabbits yet, but evidently something is going on here, so he calls up to the ship and tells the shore leave parties to stand by and not leave the ship. Right when they were about to disembark, too. You could probably hear the collective groan clear on the other side of the ship.

McCoy expresses some surprise at Kirk suspending the leave, since after all it’s only a giant talking rabbit that came from nowhere, what’s worrying about that? Kirk asks if McCoy can explain this whole business and McCoy has to admit that he can’t, and since neither can Kirk, he’s erring on the side of caution and not bringing the entire crew planetside until they figure out for sure that whatever’s going on isn’t dangerous. It’s probably not dangerous, but then again most people would say a quick checkup for a couple of isolated archaeologists probably wasn’t dangerous. A socially stunted teenage boy probably wasn’t dangerous. Someone beaming up with a bit of glittery space dirt on them probably wasn’t—you get my drift.

So nobody’s getting their vacation until Kirk gets some answers, but before they can start working on that there’s a sudden explosion of noise—gunshots. Which I don’t expect people from the twenty-third century could readily identify, but it’s obviously a big scary dangerous-sounding noise, so everyone takes off at a run to go see what’s going on.

What’s going on turns out to be...Sulu, standing in a clearing and happily firing off the revolver we saw earlier. Naturally Kirk is all “wtf, Mr. Sulu” and Sulu cheerfully explains that look! it’s a gun! isn’t it cool??? Apparently antique gun collecting is one of Sulu’s many side hobbies, and this one is a really cool old super rare gun that he’s been wanting for ages, which he just happened to find laying under a rock nearby. He seems weirdly unperturbed by a centuries-old Earth weapon—let alone the specific centuries-old Earth weapon that he just happened to want—turning up on a newly discovered, uninhabited and definitely non-Earth planet. Also, apparently Sulu’s interest in guns did not at any point include an accompanying interest in gun safety, since he thought it was a good idea to just start firing the thing off randomly for kicks.

Kirk puts his hand out and gives Sulu a stern “hand over the toy, young man” expression, and Sulu reluctantly gives it up. He tries to explain to Kirk how the gun works, but fails to mention the part about how you really shouldn’t just stick a loaded gun straight into your belt unless you want to shoot yourself in the leg, so naturally Kirk does exactly that.

Well at any rate, that confirms that there’s more going on here than one brief localized hallucination. Speaking of which, Yeoman Barrows suddenly spots more of the strange tracks they saw earlier, running right past them. Kirk orders Sulu to take Barrows and follow the new tracks AND NO MORE SHOOTING THINGS. Meanwhile, he and McCoy are going back to the glade to investigate the original set of tracks. Frankly I’m not sure how useful ‘the glade’ is as a place name on a planet that seems to consist of nothing but glades, but that seems to be what Kirk is going with. As the captain and the doctor head off, we see a strange antennae rise from the rocks and turn towards them.

Kirk and McCoy walk back to The Glade, chatting about how strange and obnoxious this whole situation is—can’t even go down for a spot of fresh air and sunshine without weird shit happening. Still, McCoy says, it could have been worse—Kirk could have been the one who saw the rabbit. At that Kirk laughs and asks McCoy if he’s feeling a bit picked on about all this, and McCoy admits that yeah, just because you know exactly what’s going to happen when you tell someone you saw a giant humanoid talking rabbit doesn’t make it fun.

Kirk says that he knows what it feels like because he got picked on a lot back at the Academy, though presumably not for rabbit-related reasons. Evidently, as he himself freely owns up to, Kirk was not just a serious student but a “positively grim” one, which made him an easy target for inter-student-body trolling. That Kirk was especially studious and strait-laced in his academic years is an aspect of his character that’s consistent throughout TOS (remember Mitchell’s remarks about Kirk being a “stack of books with legs”), but it’s one that seems to be easily forgotten about in favor of the assumption that Kirk must have been a wild, rule-breaking, carefree kind of student more interested in having dorm room hookups than passing tests. I’m just sayin’. Take notes.

At any rate, Kirk relates how there was one particular upperclassman named Finnegan who took special delight in taunting and pranking him—putting soup in his bed or a bucket of water on the top of a door. Which, honestly, as far as college pranks go that’s pretty lacking in creativity, but it clearly got to Kirk as evidenced by the fact that he’s still kinda sore about it some fifteen years later.

In the midst of all this reminiscing, they notice a new set of tracks—young girl tracks. Or, well, not that there’s anything about them that specifically says ‘young girl’, but since McCoy saw a young girl in the vicinity of the rabbit we can make a safe assumption. Kirk decides to split up; he’ll follow the Alice tracks, and McCoy can follow the rabbit tracks. McCoy’s amenable to this.

[ID: McCoy saying, “I got a personal grudge against that rabbit, Jim,” with a broad grin.]

Kirk hasn’t been alone for very long, though, when he hears a voice calling, “Jim!” He turns—and there, leaning against a nearby tree, is a young man wearing a silver shirt and an insufferable expression, accompanied, as all Irish people are legally obligated to be, by cheerful jig music. It is, or appears to be, Finnegan himself, in the flesh and just as fresh and smirking as he was at the Academy-- something he demonstrates by grasping Kirk’s shoulders in a brotherly fashion before walloping him with a punch that sends Kirk head over heels into the grass. As Kirk lays there stunned, Finnegan dances around laughing like a hyena and taunting Kirk to get up and fight back.

Now, Kirk, of course, is no longer an Academy freshman, but a decorated starship captain with ample experience in dealing with highly unusual circumstances and keeping his head in times of stress, so naturally his measured response to this impossible situation is to stay calm and evaluate what could be causing this and how dangerous—only joking, he gets up and charges at Finnegan with clear intent to strangle the bastard. I can’t really blame him, though. They cast Finnegan to perfection; the actor does a really good job at being an annoying little shit.

Before the fight can really get going, though, a sudden noise cuts across the clearing. Not gunshots, this time, but a terrified scream. Kirk immediately takes off in the direction of the sound, leaving Finnegan behind to jeer at Kirk for running from a fight.

As Kirk pelts across the grass he’s joined by McCoy, also running to see what’s going on. The two of them track the noise down to Barrows, sobbing and gasping on the ground next to a tree with her uniform all torn away from the collar on one shoulder, a rare case of the fragility of Starfleet uniforms being a problem for someone other than Kirk. And honestly I’d say Barrows gets a worse deal out of it, since the female crewmembers have so much less uniform to lose in the first place. Poor yeoman doesn’t get an undershirt, either, or, apparently, even a bra with straps.

Barrows says, rather frantically, that she was just walking along when suddenly “he” appeared—a man in a cloak with a jeweled dagger. Kirk asks if she’s sure she’s not imagining all this. That’s pretty damn rich from a man who was fistfighting his inexplicably appearing college rival a couple minutes ago. What, does he think Barrows imagined this so hard it ripped her uniform?

She gets rather rightfully pissed and tells Kirk that no, she did not dream up being attacked, you jerk. McCoy comments that the man she’s describing sounds like Don Juan. Which is quite a leap since all he has to go on is “cloak and jeweled dagger,” which could potentially describe an incredible amount of characters. Hell, that could be Barrows’s D&D character. But no, apparently McCoy got it in one, because Barrows says that actually, as she was walking through the woods, “it was so sort of storybook...I was thinking, all a girl needs is...Don Juan.”

Really? I mean, I don’t mean to judge anyone else’s romantic fantasies. But, well, I could see walking through some beautiful woods and thinking the scene just needed a charming prince or maybe a unicorn or something. Not so much, “gee, it’s so beautiful around here, all a girl needs is to be violently assaulted by a fictional character legendary for being a womanizing sleaze.”

Well, anyway, that was weird. Hey, come to think of it, where’s Sulu? Shouldn’t he be around here somewhere? Barrows says that he ran after the cloaked fellow. Oh dear. New plan: Kirk tells McCoy to stay with Barrows while he goes to look for Sulu. As Kirk runs off, the mysterious aerial appears again, seemingly tracking him, but it goes unnoticed by everyone.

Kirk soon finds himself leaving the trees and meadows and jogging out into a rocky, desert-like area. It’s still pretty out there, though, with some wildflowers growing around, which Kirk stops to admire. Kirk. Kirk, buddy, I like flowers too, but you’ve got a crewman potentially in danger here. Maybe we could enjoy the foliage later.

A moment later, though, Kirk spots something a lot more distracting than a pretty flower: a pretty woman!

[ID: A white woman with blonde hair braided in a ring around her head, wearing a dress which is half white and half black with a pink flower design on the black half, standing in front of a cliffside surrounded by plants.]

Kirk stares in stunned rapture as the woman approaches. This is not just any woman; this is, judging by Kirk’s disbelieving murmur of, “Ruth…?” someone he knows, or knew. Random woman that Kirk knows who we’ve never heard of before? Gee, I wonder what connection he could possibly have to her. I’m going to guess she’s not his aunt.

“It is me, Jim darling, it is Ruth,” the woman says, and moves in to rub against Kirk’s cheek. Well, that’s an upgrade from Finnegan at any rate.

After the break Kirk gives a rather distracted captain’s log: still investigating this weird planet, lost a crewman but found a woman so it evens out. With a last vestige of professionalism he attempts to call McCoy, but the communicator isn’t working. Kirk is exactly as bothered by this as you would expect someone to be whose phone just broke right when they needed to call someone but really didn’t want to.

Anyway, back to more important matters: “How can it really be you, Ruth?” Kirk says it’s been fifteen years, but she hasn’t aged a day. He really seems quite emotional about all this. Kirk’s always courteous to the girls of his past, but he doesn’t usually get this worked up about seeing them again. Ruth must have been someone really special to him.

Sadly, the dreamy romantic atmosphere can only last so long before it gets shattered by reality, in the form of a communicator chirp, specifically. It’s McCoy, wanting to know if Kirk’s having any luck finding Sulu. You know? Sulu? Your crewman that you’re supposed to be looking for? Might be in danger? Remember him? Apparently not, because Kirk only manages a vague “hmm?” and then, when McCoy wants to know what the heck is going on over there, Kirk mumbles that he’s sure Mr. Sulu will be just fine. Maybe he’ll find a woman too! Or another gun. Whatever. He’s fine. It’s fine.

But Kirk just can’t get a break in here, because he promptly gets another call. This time it’s from Rodriguez, reporting that he just saw a flock of birds go overhead. “Don’t you like birds, Mr. Rodriguez?” Kirk asks, so Rodriguez has to remind him of that tiny little detail that there are no birds on this planet. Or at least, there aren’t supposed to be, according to all those scans they took.

Welp, Kirk says, guess those scans were defective, how bout that, funny ol thing, probably not important though...but, for all that he clearly wants to tell Rodriguez to go away so he can get back to Ruth Time, Kirk’s captain instincts are still hanging in there somewhere, so with a sigh he snaps out of it and tells Rodriguez to have all the search parties meet back at The Glade before hanging up. Ruth tells him to go do what he must and that he’ll see her again if he wants to, then walks off back into the desert, leaving Kirk alone among the rocks with only his memories...but just for like, five seconds, because he promptly gets another call.

This time it’s Spock, reporting that they’re getting some strange readings indicating some kind of ‘power field’ down on the planet, and that there’s “a highly sophisticated energy draining our power and increasing, beginning to affect our communications.” How energy can be highly sophisticated is beyond me, honestly (is it wearing a monocle? what?), but you’re the science expert there, Spock. Seems this energy might be coming from beneath the planet’s surface, possibly indicating some kind of industrial activity going on down there.

Well, I think at this point we can definitively say that Something Weird is going on down here. Kirk heads off back to The Glade in pursuit of answers, and as he leaves we see another aerial, sticking up from a rock and twirling attentively in his direction.

Meanwhile, McCoy and Barrows are having a cheerful meander through the woods. Lovely as the woods are, though, Barrows comments that she wouldn’t want to be alone in them. “Why not?” McCoy asks. I dunno, man, because she just got attacked by an armed man with distinctly dishonorable intentions? I think that’d put most people off a stroll through the woods, no matter how nice said woods are.

Barrows hasn’t been dissuaded from the romantic ideal entirely though, and says that in woods like this a lady should be dressed in some fancy fairy-tale princess duds. I was thinking ‘long pants and hiking boots’ myself, but whatever works for you.

McCoy replies that if she was so dressed she’d have “whole armies of Don Juans to fight off...and me, too.” Not sure if “let me just remind you of that scary encounter you just had with a threatening man” is the best approach to flirting, but going by the moment of tender hand-holding they proceed to have, I’d say Barrows is down with it. (Hmm...Bones...Barrows...kind of goes together. In a morbid way, but still.) Still, the whole thing doesn’t feel quite in character for Bones, which might be explained by this plot originally being intended for Kirk (of course) with McCoy swapped in later. Kirk and McCoy are pretty much interchangeable, right? Sure.

Barrows is quickly distracted from the hand-holding when she spots something in the trees nearby: the exact kind of fancy fairy-tale princess clothes that she was just talking about, hanging on some branches. Imagine that. She runs over to the clothes and holds the dress up to herself gleefully, exclaiming, “Look at me, doctor! A lady to be protected and fought over!” When McCoy suggests the clothes would look even better with her in them, Barrows isn’t sure if it’s a great idea, but decides to go for it. Now, uhhh, if Barrows wants to wear a pretty princess dress that’s entirely her prerogative, and I don’t blame her for wanting to change out of that awkwardly ripped uniform, but putting on a set of fancy clothes that mysteriously appeared in the woods? That sounds like an excellent way to get captured by faeries and I would not recommend it.

Barrows goes to change behind some bushes, brazenly ignoring the possibility of being kidnapped by the fair folk, and McCoy is very deliberately Not Peeking when he gets a call from Rodriguez. The communicator has gone all staticy and squawky, though, and McCoy only just makes out the message that they’re supposed to meet back in The Glade before Rodriguez cuts out, and no amount of shouting “ESTEBAN!” into the communicator gets him back. Which is a pity for Rodriguez, because the scene cuts to show us that he and Marteller are in quite the spot of bother: they’re leaning up against a tree, clutching each other, while a tiger prowls about nearby. Yes, a tiger. Not a dude in a tiger suit, or a dog with stripes painted on, or even stock footage of a tiger: an actual, real, 100% bonafide, quite expensive tiger. Rodriguez tries desperately to get ahold of McCoy again without setting off Shere Khan over there, but the communicator doesn’t pick up at all this time.

Blissfully unaware of the tiger trouble, McCoy watches Barrows emerge, all dolled up. Meanwhile, Kirk is talking to Spock and demanding some answers about all this. Spock is hesitant, but Kirk says it’s his job to provide answers. Cut him some slack there, Kirk. It’s pretty hard to come up with a good scientific explanation for giant talking bunnies and magic women. Well, one that doesn’t involve massive intoxicants, at any rate. Speaking of which, Spock wants to know if they’re really sure these haven’t been hallucinations. Kirk rather doubts that, since one of those ‘hallucinations’ clocked him across the jaw. A fair point, although I would also put forth the rather relevant detail that by now we’ve had multiple people seeing the exact same thing, not a common feature of hallucinations.

Spock wants to know if they should maybe beam down an armed landing party, who I’m sure would be terribly effective, but Kirk says no, there hasn’t been any real danger so far, just weirdness (he hasn’t seen that tiger yet). Right as he says that, he looks up and sees a flock of...are those geese? Oh shit, you better send that armed party down after all, Spock, things just got dangerous.

Meanwhile, Sulu (remember him?) is walking through a nearby canyon, probably wondering where the heck everybody is, when the ground behind him opens up like a trapdoor and a samurai jumps out and starts attacking him. Man, we were getting some perfectly good character development for Sulu this episode but now we’re back to “a samurai! because he’s Japanese! get it? get it?”  

Sulu pulls his phaser on the samurai, but the phaser doesn’t seem to want to fire, and Sulu’s forced to make a run for it, right into Kirk, who is trying and failing to call McCoy. Sulu warns Kirk about the aggro’d samurai heading towards them—but he’s gone. No samurai to be seen. “Captain, you’ve got to believe me!” Sulu insists, and usually “you’ve got to believe me” is the best way to guarantee that someone will not believe you, but luckily for Sulu Kirk’s seen enough weird shit of his own today that at this point, sure, samurai, why not.

Sulu reports that he got a call from Rodriguez telling him to meet back at The Glade, but the communicators were acting up, and now it seems his phaser is out too. Kirk tests his, but it’s also dead. Great, now we don’t have any way to fight off the geese.

While they’ll mulling over this latest development, something appears up on a nearby outcropping of rock—the familiar human-shaped swirl of light of someone being transported. It appears to be Spock, but instead of the usual smooth materialization, he fades in and out several times before finally making it all the way. Just your periodic reminder that traveling through transporter is kind of terrifying.

Kirk wants to know what the heck, man, did he not just say to not send anyone else down? Spock says he had to come down because ship-to-planet communications are now completely out, and the mysterious power field is soaking up energy so quickly that he calculated that if they hurried they could just about get one person transported down before that went out too. Naturally he sent himself; I mean, he’s only the first officer, who better to risk sending through a shaky transporter beam? At any rate, that was the last of the transporter juice, so they’re all stuck down there now with no contact with the ship. The shuttles are conspicuously unmentioned by anyone—but then, if the energy-eating field is that strong, flying a shuttle into it probably wouldn’t end real well.

Back in The Glade, McCoy and Barrows have arrived (and McCoy has found another stalk of grass to chew on), but no one else is there yet. At least it doesn’t look like anyone is there yet, but McCoy thinks he hears something or someone moving around nearby. That makes Barrows nervous, but McCoy says her brave knight will protect her.

Over in the desert, Kirk, Spock and Sulu hear the tiger approaching, along with the ominous background music. They spread out to find the source of the noise, but there’s another problem in The Glade: a knight in black armor on a horse, charging towards McCoy and Barrows with lance at the ready. Barrows freaks, but McCoy is done with this shit. First a talking rabbit, then magic guns, and now this nonsense? He’s not having it. These damn things are all just hallucinations, and he’s going to prove it...by standing directly in front of the knight.

Under some circumstances, that might have been the correct option. Unfortunately for McCoy, these are not those circumstances, and Kirk and Spock come into The Glade (having, apparently, missed the tiger completely) just in time to watch their friend get hit in the chest by a very much not imaginary lance. The knight turns towards Kirk and Spock next; Spock tries to fire his phaser  at it, but of course, the phasers aren’t working. Luckily Kirk still has that gun he confiscated from Sulu—which has somehow not gone off throughout any of these adventures--and it’s working just fine, fine enough to shoot the knight right off his horse. Dang, Kirk is a good shot with that thing, considering he’s never so much as encountered one before.

Everyone rushes over to McCoy, lying lifeless in the grass. That’s right, McCoy is dead. Oh god! McCoy! We hardly knew ye! Oh, I can’t believe this has happened. And so early on in the show, too. What a tragedy.

[ID: McCoy laying prone on the grass with a small bloody hole in his chest, while Kirk, Spock, and Barrows in her princess clothes kneel around him.]

Not that I have experience with these things but that seems to be a remarkably small and clean wound for a lance to the chest.

In shocked grief, Spock, Kirk and Barrows kneel around the body of their fallen comrade. Barrows is especially emotional, sobbing that it’s all her fault, until Kirk grabs her by the shoulders and sternly tells her to get a grip. I suppose he needs everyone to have a clear head since they’re still in a crisis situation but it seems a wee bit harsh. Poor Barrows. She’s had a really bad day. Although not as bad as McCoy’s day, I guess.

Sulu calls Kirk over to the body of the fallen knight, laying in the grass some way away. As soon as Kirk gets there it’s easy to see what got Sulu’s attention: underneath the visor of his helmet, the knight’s face is plasticky and clearly artificial (although the eyes are just a little unnervingly realistic).

[ID: A headshot of a knight laying on the grass with his helmet visor opened, showing the face of a white man with brown hair but with a flat, artificial sheen.]

“It couldn’t be alive,” Kirk muses. Kirk, don’t be mean to the stuntmen.

Spock comes over to scan the body—luckily his tricorder is still working (don’t ask why). He says that the knight is indeed not a corpse but a “mechanical contrivance” which has the same cell structure as all the plants around them. Which means that not only this knight, but everything on the planet has been manufactured. Oh my god. We’re in WESTWORLD.

So a mysterious black knight just appeared out of the blue, ran down poor McCoy, then got shot and turned out to be fake all along. Okay. Sure. To be honest, you could stick that sequence of events in the Arthurian canon and it wouldn’t stand out much.

Suddenly, just to add to all the weirdness, an airplane flies overhead. Somewhere else, Rodriguez and Marteller are watching it with astonishment. Rodriguez asks if Marteller remembers “the early wars and funny air vehicles they used” that he was telling her about. One wonders how that conversation came about. Was it before or after the tiger?

Anyway, Rodriguez brings this up because that, of course, is one of those very same airplanes he mentioned. Marteller asks if it can hurt them, and Rodriguez says it can’t unless it makes a strafing run. Naturally, the plane immediately makes a strafing run. The two run off, barely avoiding the hail of bullets, and escape into some nearby undergrowth, where Marteller falls over. Rodriguez kneels down, concerned, calling her name, but she doesn’t respond. I have no idea whether she tripped, fainted, or was shot and is now dead. It’s really not clear.

Back in The Glade, something weird (sorry, something else weird) has happened while everyone was distracted by the plane: McCoy’s body has vanished, along with the fake knight. Well, that’s great.

Spock has a hypothesis. He asks Kirk what he was thinking of right before he saw the people he mentioned. Kirk thinks back and says that he was thinking about being in the Academy and his youth and all that, and then Finnegan showed up. And speak of the devil—there he is again, Finnegan himself. Kirk demands Finnegan give him some answers about what’s been happening to them, but Finnegan just laughs and runs away.

Kirk’s not going to stand for that. He’s had a bad enough day—verbally outfoxed by Spock, had a potential bit of lovely shore leave turn into a massive headache, one of his best friends is dead, and now this horrible little bastard is having a laugh at him. There’s only one thing to do—track down Finnegan and take out some aggression on him. He tells Spock to take Sulu and find McCoy’s body—and just, uh, leave Barrows somewhere, I guess—while he goes after Finnegan. Spock is a little taken aback by this sudden turn of events, but Kirk has run off before he has a chance to argue.

The chase takes Kirk back out to the desert. Finnegan keeps popping up in the distance, moving from place to place so quickly and inexplicably that it seems like he’s teleporting. All this time Finnegan’s peppy jig motif is playing, which is suitable enough for the immediate situation but a bit disconcertingly cheerful considering one of our beloved main cast members died and had his body stolen like two minutes ago.

Finally, Kirk tracks Finnegan down to a small ledge and once again demands that Finnegan give him some answers. Finnegan’s response to this is to jump off the ledge, onto Kirk. So begins a long fight scene in the desert dust. Kirk gives it a good show, but Finnegan seems indomitable. He knocks Kirk flat and then stands over him, taunting Kirk about how Kirk went and got old while Finnegan is still a twenty-year-old college student in fine fighting form. Well...a twenty-year-old in fine fighting form, at any rate. He’s got way too much energy to be a college student.

Despite being Super Old, Kirk gets back up and continues the fight. This time he’s the one who knocks Finnegan down, and Finnegan promptly starts moaning about how he can’t feel his leg and Kirk has broken his back. This is, of course, a trick, and as soon as he gets the chance he flips Kirk over onto his back. Somehow, between landing on the ground and getting a close-up, Kirk manages to rip his shirt clean off most of his torso.

[ID: 1. Kirk landing on his back in the dirt while Finnegan begins to get up from the ground nearby. 2. Kirk laying flat on his back, bruised, with his shirt torn off one shoulder almost to his stomach.]

how did you even do that

He lays there, seemingly unconscious, and Finnegan starts laughing about how Kirk can sleep now, sleep as much as he wants, sleep forever and forever. Oh. Uh. That got creepy.

Luckily for Kirk, a commercial break happens, and by the time it’s over, he’s recovered somewhat. He gets up and says, once again, that he wants answers. Finnegan tells him to earn them and throws dirt in his face, and they start going at it. Again. Seriously, this fight lasts for a long time.

Eventually, they come to a halt, both disheveled, bleeding, and covered in dirt. “Kinda makes up for things, huh, Jim?” Finnegan asks. I don’t know if the “things” are Finnegan’s bullying back in the day or everything that’s gone wrong today—or maybe both. Hard to say, because when Kirk questions him yet again, Finnegan says, “I never answer questions from plebes,” causing Kirk, clearly at his breaking point now, to bellow “I’M...NOT...A PLEBE!” as only William Shatner could.

Kirk asks Finnegan why the hell he’s here, magically still a cadet just hanging out on a supposedly uninhabited planet, which is pretty weird, y’know. Finnegan says he’s “being exactly what you expect me to be.” Which is more information than Finnegan’s provided so far, but not enough to dissuade Kirk from getting back up and finally giving Finnegan a right good sock on the jaw.

As he stands there catching his breath, Spock suddenly appears and asks if Kirk enjoyed his fight. Well, I say suddenly. It seems suddenly, but honestly he could have been standing there for the past ten minutes playing a trumpet and wearing light-up sneakers and I doubt Kirk would have noticed during that fight.

Kirk admits that yeah, actually, he did enjoy that. He’s been wanting to beat up Finnegan for years now and he finally got the chance and damn, it felt good. Spock says that this all fits into his theory: that these things and people are showing up because the Enterprise crew were thinking about them. You don’t say? I’m kind of amazed it took them this long to realize that, honestly. I mean, if something becomes relevant soon after I happened to be thinking about it I immediately notice it because that kind of thing strikes you as odd, right? And if something literally appeared in front of me right after I mentioned it, I think my immediate instinct would be to ask for something else just to see what would happen, which in this case would rather give the game away.

Anyway, Spock says that they must all control their thoughts, which is definitely a thing humans can do under pressure. He thinks that everything is being manufactured below ground and placed above via a system of secret tunnels, kind of like Disneyland. Then he starts talking about the tiger Rodriguez encountered—and said tiger immediately shows up nearby. Great job controlling your thoughts, Spock!

Apparently, Shatner wanted Kirk to wrestle this tiger, but basic sense prevailed and he was talked out of it. I wonder how that conversation went. “I gotta fight the tiger! It’s what this Kirk guy’s all about! I know, I’ve studied him!”

Luckily Kirk and Spock make their getaway without anyone having to fight the tiger. As they run back to The Glade, the airplane returns for another strafing run, so they have to outrun that too. Then, because I guess this is the part where all the previous bosses return and you have to fight them again, the samurai appears as well, but Kirk and Spock don’t have any time for that so they just push him over and keep going without even slowing down.

Back in The Glade, Barrows is in her uniform again and sadly hanging up the princess clothes on some branches. Her ripped collar seems to now be on the other side. Man, there’s just magic clothes all over this episode. And just to make Barrows’s day even worse, a leering mustachioed man appears in the brush behind her—Don Juan, one presumes. Man, somebody had a really weird idea of what women fantasize about.

Barrows screams and Sulu and Rodriguez rush over to rescue her—Sulu seems to be hoping that just kind of waving his hands around in the air will do the trick. Before yet another fight scene can break out, Kirk and Spock show up and tell everyone to stop this nonsense, at which point Don Juan just kind of obligingly leaves.

Kirk tells everyone to stand at attention and to not breathe or think. I hope he has some kind of plan beyond that because that is not a sustainable course of action. I mean, that’s how you get a giant Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. Or just some passed-out crew. Incidentally, Rodriguez is here, but Marteller is nowhere to be seen. What happened to her? Is she dead? Did he just leave her laying in the woods somewhere? I have no idea, because she never gets mentioned again.

So the crew lines up and tries desperately not to think about tigers or samurai or vintage guns or airplanes or Don Juan or fancy princess clothes or talking rabbits or old flames or college rivals or anything else, and while they’re doing this an old man in blue robes suddenly appears.

[ID: Kirk, still bruised with a badly torn shirt, looking in surprise at a kindly-looking white man with white hair, wearing a blue robe with gold leaf embroideries on the chest and cuffs.]

Dangit! Which one of you was thinking of an old man in blue robes?

The man, who seems to know everyone’s names, introduces himself as the caretaker of the planet. He apologizes for all their troubles and says that ‘they’ only realized just now that the Enterprise crew didn’t understand what was going on—that everything that happened was only meant to amuse and entertain them. On this planet, you can imagine any kind of experience you want, and it’ll happen. Spock calls it an amusement park, and then explains to everyone else that that’s ‘an old Earth term’ for a place where people went to have fun experiences. Wait, does that mean that amusement parks don’t exist anymore? Why not? When did we lose our amusement park capabilities? Man, I don’t know about this future, guys.

The Caretaker says Spock has got it right—this is basically one giant amusement park. The whole planet, in fact, was constructed for the Caretaker’s people to come and play. Sulu expresses surprise at the idea that a species that seems to be so advanced would still play games, but Kirk says that on the contrary, the more advanced the mind, the greater the need for the simplicity of play, and the Caretaker agrees. Okay, cool planet, guys, but have you considered maybe, I dunno, putting up some signs or warning buoys or something so random space travelers who don’t know what the place is about don’t stumble upon it and have a really bad day?

Speaking of having bad days, Kirk might have his answers now, but he’s not exactly happy about his best friend and CMO getting killed by what was more or less a rogue audio-animatronic. But then who should call out but the CMO himself, who comes strolling over, looking decidedly not dead. Also he has a couple scantily-clad women with him for some reason.

[ID: McCoy saying, “Possibly because no one has died, Jim,” as he stands in front of the pond arm-in-arm with two women wearing fluffy bikinis, feathers in their hair, and what looks like a feather boa wrapped around one leg; one woman is in pink and the other in yellow.]

McCoy says he was taken below ground for ‘repairs’ and that there’s a huge factory complex down there that can make absolutely anything. They even fixed his shirt! So McCoy is fine, and we can call off the mourning, what a relief. Phew. Really had me worried there.

Barrows, though, seems less than amused by the fuzzy girls and asks what’s up with that. McCoy mutters something about a cabaret he visited that had these chorus girls and, well, here they are. Really? That’s what you were thinking about, after being brought back from the dead by an advanced alien civilization in an underground factory? A cabaret you went to once? These people have weird priorities.

This is one part of the episode that strikes me as interesting because it’s quite different from how I would expect a more modern sci-fi story to handle it. The idea of a planet-sized super-advanced alien theme park that can generate whatever you’re thinking about is in itself not a story idea I’d be surprised to encounter today. But the idea that all these creations are mechanical replicas built in a giant underground factory kind of is. You’d expect a race as advanced as that to be using, I dunno, holograms or telepathic projections or just something that’s straight-up never explained. I mean, even by the time of TNG we have regular humans using holodecks, which do everything this planet can do with just hard light or whatever. It’s a sort of linear thought process, I think, which shows up more than once in Star Trek and plenty of other sci-fi, wherein the idea of super-advanced alien/future tech is expressed as “okay think of what we can do right now, and then imagine it could be done faster and better.” Rather than taking a sideways step to imagine some completely new technology, it’s basically “well we have factories that can produce artificial things, so the advanced aliens must have bigger factories that can quickly produce more lifelike artificial things.” Of course, all sci-fi is going to have that to some extent because it’s impossible to completely extricate our imaginations from our current understanding of the world. But sometimes it’s especially obvious.

McCoy, seeing Barrows’s expression, turns the fuzzy girls loose to go pester the rest of the crew. Kirk is curious about the Caretaker’s species, but the Caretaker gently says that he doesn’t think humans are ready to understand them yet. But Uhura calls Kirk to say that ship power and communications are back on, and the Caretaker says that the crew is free to take their shore leave on the planet if they want. Well, that’s nice of them. Not everyone would share their planet-sized amusement park with total strangers.

So Kirk tells the shore leave parties to start beaming down. Spock says that he’s had quite enough excitement and is going to go back and hold the fort on the ship, and Kirk almost overrules him and says that he’ll go instead because as the captain he’s not allowed to have fun. But then he sees Ruth approaching in the distance and decides that, you know what, he’ll stay after all. Personally it seems to me that knowing that the long-lost love you were smooching was actually a plastic simulacrum of them would kind of take the joy out of it, but hey, what do I know about these things. I just hope they explain the ‘anything you think of will immediately appear’ situation to everyone before they come down, or any crewmembers with an anxiety disorder are going to get a nasty surprise.

Some time later, everyone returns to the ship, looking quite refreshed and happy. As Kirk, McCoy, Sulu and Barrows come onto the bridge, Spock asks if they enjoyed their shore leave, and they all agree that they did, very much. “Most illogical,” Spock comments. I don’t know what exactly he finds illogical about that, but then that pretty much is Spock’s fall-back way of expressing disapproval regardless of how much sense it makes.

So everyone laughs, and they fly off, and we have a nice happy ending. The filming of Shore Leave itself was rather less happy. The original script was written by Theodore Sturgeon, but Roddenberry thought it contained too much fantasy, so he handed it off to Gene L. Coon for a rewrite—but in some sitcom-worthy misunderstanding, Coon somehow thought that Roddenberry wanted more fantasy. So Roddenberry himself wound up re-rewriting the script, but at that point they were so out of time that he was writing it while the episode was being filmed. I have no idea exactly what levels of ‘fantasy’ were involved in either version of the script that Roddenberry disliked so much. Unicorns? Werewolves? Women characters not getting harassed by mustachioed stalkers for no real reason? Who knows.

The script also called for an elephant along with the tiger, and an elephant was actually hired and brought to set, but various shooting difficulties meant that it never wound up getting filmed. No word on whether Shatner wanted to wrestle the elephant too.

You may also have noticed Kirk suddenly has a new yeoman seemingly replacing Rand. By this point, Rand had been written out of the series; Balance of Terror was the last episode she would appear in (in filming order, The Conscience of the King was the last episode Grace Lee Whitney worked on). Exactly why the decision was made to write Rand out so unceremoniously is not really clear to me, and there seem to be lot of differing viewpoints on it; one thing that is clear is that it was a huge blow to poor Whitney, who was abruptly dismissed from the show through no fault of her own. To be honest, I don’t personally think that Rand was written especially well most of the time, but I think that she could have been written well, which is what makes it such a shame that she was removed from the show without getting the chance to get any real character development. Within the show itself, there’s no reason given for Rand just being gone one day (people just appear and disappear at random on this ship), though I’m sure the EU has that covered. Personally I just hope she found a ship that was a lot less stressful to be a woman on. We’ll miss ya, Rand!

TREK TROPE TALLY: We’ve got one crewmember death, followed by one crewmember un-death, plus one truly incredible case of a Uniform Unformed with Kirk’s shirt magically destroying itself between shots. Next time we’ll finally see some shuttle action in The Galileo Seven.

[emilyl-b]

9 Things Your Parents Taught You About fireinsidemusic.com

Correction Appended

On an album of bittersweet childrens music that she wrote a lot more than ten years ago, the woman who came to become acknowledged only given that the piano Trainer supplied what, in hindsight, seems like an eerie glimpse of her have upcoming.

Im moving away currently to a spot so distant, wherever nobody appreciates my title, she wrote from the lyrics of the music referred to as Moving.

When she wrote that track, she was youthful and vivacious, a piano Trainer and freelance new music writer who liked Beethoven and jazz, sunsets and river Appears, lengthy walks and every thing about Big apple.

On a type of beloved walks, via Central Park in the bright Solar of the June day in 1996, a homeless drifter conquer her and made an effort to rape her, leaving her clinging to lifestyle. Once the assault, the text to her track arrived legitimate. She moved away, outside of Ny city, out of her old daily life, and all but her closest buddies did not know her name. To the rest of the environment, she was — such as far more famous jogger attacked in Central Park seven years before — an nameless image of the urban nightmare. She was the piano Trainer.

Now, around the 10th anniversary of the assault, she is celebrating what appears to be her whole recovery from Mind trauma. She is forty two, married, with a little child. She's Kyle Kevorkian McCann, the piano Trainer, and she or he wants to explain to her story, her way.

Her physician instructed her it could just take ten years to Recuperate, and Sunday was that talismanic anniversary. I sense my lifestyle has become redefined by Central Park, she said several times ago, her voice smooth and hopeful. Prior to park; immediately after park. Will there at any time be a time Once i dont Feel, Oh, Here is the 10th anniversary, the 11th anniversary?

She spoke in her modest ranch residence in the wooded subdivision in a The big apple suburb. She sat in a dining area strewn with toys, surrounded by photos of her cherubic, dim-haired 2-calendar year-aged daughter. A Steinway grand filled fifty percent the place, and at just one level she sat down and played. Her taking part in was forceful, but she seemed embarrassed to Engage in quite a lot of bars, and shrugged, rather then answering, when asked the identify from the piece. She asked that her daughter and her city not be named.

She phone calls that working day, June 4, 1996, the working day Once i was harm.

Hers was the main within a string of assaults by precisely the same man on four women over 8 days. The final victim, Evelyn Alvarez, 65, was overwhelmed to Loss of life as she opened her Park Avenue dry-cleansing shop, and eventually, the assailant, John J. Royster, was convicted of murder and sentenced to lifestyle in prison.

Nonetheless the attack on the piano Instructor may be the a person individuals seem to recollect probably the most. Portion of the fascination has to do with echoes on the 1989 assault to the Central Park jogger. But In addition, it frightened men and women in a means the attack on the jogger did not since its situation ended up so mundane.

It did not happen in a very remote Portion of the park late in the evening, but in close proximity to a favorite playground at three inside the afternoon. It could have took place to anybody. The stress was heightened from the mystery with the piano academics id.

For three times, as law enforcement and Health professionals attempted to find out who she was, she lay in a coma in her clinic mattress, anonymous. Her parents were on trip and her boyfriend, also a musician, was in Europe, on tour. Last but not least, among her students regarded a police sketch and was able to establish her while in the clinic by her fingers, since her confront was swollen beyond recognition. The law enforcement did not release her identify.

The last thing she remembers about June four, 1996, is providing a lesson in her studio apartment on West 57th Avenue, then putting her very long hair in the ponytail and likely out for any walk. She will not keep in mind the attack, Though she has listened to the accounts from the police and prosecutors.

To me its like a actuality I realized and memorized, she mentioned. As if I ended up a student in school researching background.

She doesn't think of The person who did it. I might need been offended for any moment, although not a lot longer than that, she said. How could I be offended at John Royster? He was declared not insane, but I assume by our specifications he was.

Dr. Jamshid Ghajar, her doctor at The big apple Healthcare facility-Cornell Health-related Middle, as it was known in 1996, explained to reporters that she experienced a 10 percent possibility of survival. Medical professionals experienced to get rid of her forehead bone, which was later on changed, to produce space for her swelling brain. When her mother produced a community appeal to pray for my daughter, 1000's did.

Immediately after eight times, she arrived out of a coma, very first in a very vegetative state, then in a childlike condition. As she recovered, she slept minor and talked frequently, from time to time in gibberish. I had been finding mad at folks after they didnt reply to these terms, she claimed.

Like an Alzheimers individual, she experienced small short-term memory and would forget guests once they left the room.

Around a number of months, she had to relearn ways to stroll, dress, read and write. Her boyfriend, Tony Scherr, frequented everyday to Perform guitar for her. He encouraged her to Engage in the piano, in opposition to the advice of her Actual physical therapists, who thought she can be disappointed by her incapacity to Participate in the best way she once experienced. Mr. Scherr performed Beatles duets along with her, actively playing the remaining-hand portion though she played the ideal.

Which was my most effective therapy, she mentioned.

In August, she moved back again property to New Jersey, along with her father, an engineer, and mother, a schoolteacher. She visited previous haunts and known as good friends, striving to revive her shattered memory. I used to be really obsessive about remembering, she reported. Any memory reduction was to me an indication of abnormality or deficit.

Her therapists considered her progress was fantastic, but her two sisters protested that she was not the deep thinker she had been.

What bothered her most was that she had missing the ability to cry, like a faucet within her brain were turned off. A person night time, nine months following she was harm, she stayed up late to watch the John Grisham Motion picture A Time to Destroy. Just following her father had long gone to mattress, she viewed a courtroom scene of Samuel Jacksons character on demo for killing two men who had raped his younger daughter.

The faucet opened, as well as tears trickled down her cheeks. I thought of my mothers and fathers, my father, and whatever they went by means of, she explained. Minor by very little, my feeling returned, my depth of mind returned.

Urged by her sisters, she went again to highschool and obtained a masters degree in music education and learning.

Not anything went very well. She and Mr. Scherr split up five years once the assault, although they remain good friends. She dated other Gentlemen, but she always advised them regarding the assault instantly — she couldn't support it, she mentioned — plus they in no way known as for a 2nd day.

We have now to search out you anyone, her Good friend David Phelps, a guitar participant, mentioned 4 many years back, before introducing her to Liam McCann, a computer technician and newbie drummer. For at the time, she did not say anything at all about the assault until she received to grasp Mr. McCann, then when she did, he admired her toughness.

Mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani, who had typically frequented her at her bedside though she was in the clinic, married them in his Instances Sq. Place of work. She wore a blue costume and pearls. Whilst she was pregnant, within a burst of creativity, she and her mates recorded Even though Ended up Young, an album of childrens songs that she experienced penned prior to the attack, such as the music Shifting. Her ex-boyfriend, Mr. Scherr, manufactured the CD. On it, her spouse performs drums and she performs electrical piano.

Is her life as it absolutely was? Not specifically, although she is hesitant to attribute the distinctions to her injuries. Her very last two piano students still left her, with out contacting to clarify why, she reported. She has resumed taking part in classical songs, but simple items, because her daughter would not give her the perfect time to practice. As for jazz, I dont even check out, she stated.

She would want to drive additional, sensation stranded in the suburbs, but she is easily rattled. She tries to be written content with being house and caring for her daughter.

Dr. Ghajar, a medical professor of neurological operation at precisely what is now named New York-Presbyterian Healthcare facility/Weill Cornell Clinical Center, who operated on Ms. Kevorkian McCann once the assault, said final week that her amount of Restoration was rare. Shes generally standard, he claimed.

Other gurus, who're not Individually accustomed to Ms. Kevorkian McCanns case, are more cautious.

Regaining the opportunity to Participate in the piano may possibly contain an Nearly mechanical procedure, a semiautomatic remember of exactly what the fingers have to do, explained Dr. Yehuda Ben-Yishay, a professor of scientific rehabilitation medication at Ny University School of Medication. As soon as brain-injured, you happen to be always brain-hurt, For the remainder of your lifetime, Dr. Ben-Yishay claimed. There isn't any cure, You can find only intense compensation.

The more telling Portion of a Restoration, in his see, is psychological, and on that rating he counts Ms. Kevorkian McCanns relationship and boy or girl as a major victory.

For her aspect, the piano Instructor is familiar with she has altered, but she has produced her peace with it. I used to be sort of a hyper —— I dont know if I was a kind A, but I used to be bold, she claims. Why was I so formidable? I was a piano Trainer. I dont understand what the ambition was about. I really did come back to the individual Im designed to be.

[coin-river-blog]

Economists have been predicting a worldwide recession which could pose a risk to financial stability throughout various countries. Fear of an economic downturn has caused the central bank of Australia to cut interests rates on Tuesday and both the U.S. Federal Reserve and the Reserve Bank of India are in the midst of discussing slashing interest rates as well. What is more frightening is the fact that smaller financial institutions are also offering negative interest rates to consumers in a predatory fashion.

Also read: Bitcoin Cash Markets and Network Gather Strong Momentum in Q1

Governments and Financial Institutions Push More Debt, Negative Interest Rates, and Trade Wars

On June 4, an international contributing editor from the publication Sovereign Man discussed how he was offered a 10-year mortgage from Denmark, Nordea with a negative interest rate of minus 0.12%. The writer detailed how he once thought that this type of lending traditionally stemmed from big banking institutions but nowadays he says “negative interest rates are the norm.” “In other words, the bank would pay me to take out a loan — Thousands, if not tens of thousands of Danes will go out and take out mortgages that will pay them every month.” The Sovereign Man editorial emphasizes “how broken the financial system really is.”

“Now, institutions and governments are incentivizing people to consume, instead of save. In fact, they’re paying people to go into debt,” the editorial details.

The day before the central bank of Australia cut interests rates for the first time in three years. Interestingly, on the same day, the Reserve Bank of India’s six-member monetary policy committee (MPC) started discussing slashing rates to help curb inflation as well. In addition to India and Australia, the St Louis Federal Reserve President James Bullard and Fed Chair Jerome Powell talked about an interest rate cut too because the U.S. dollar has been under a lot of pressure. To make matters worse, the world is dealing with the current trade war spawned by U.S. President Trump. The World Bank Group, a family of five international financial organizations, coincidentally downgraded its 2019 growth forecast because of subdued trade growth.

The World Bank Group downgraded the global economy’s growth outlook n a report published on June 4, 2019.

Making the Insanity of the Financial System Work for Your Benefit

In the midst of all the fears of a spiraling economy possibly heading toward another deep recession, Sovereign Man editor Alex Moneton asserts that “it isn’t all doom and gloom.” In fact, when the global economy seems backward, Moneton and many others believe “you can make the insanity of the financial system work for your benefit.” There are alternative investments that can be extremely profitable in the future, Moneton claims, and all it takes is some willingness to find them and patience.

Sovereign Man describes investing in certain low-valued tech companies that have a solid foundation, but there are also the opportunities presented by cryptocurrencies. Digital currencies like bitcoin cash (BCH) and many others have outshined traditional investment assets like oil, gold, and popular stocks this year. Meanwhile, economic fears this year have pushed gold (Au) prices higher as Au values tallied a fifth straight session climb this week, capturing decent gains month after month since the first of the year. But Carlo Alberto De Casa, chief analyst at broker Activtrades, has written that gold prices are nearing all-time highs again and have yet to press past the upper resistance.

“The next target could now be the resistance area of $1,350-$1,370, a level which has always stopped gold in the last 4 years,” the analyst wrote this week.

Even though gold has been a safe haven asset for millennia, digital assets have proven to be more suited for permissionless free trade. Gold will likely still hold value due to its intrinsic value for things like jewelry and electronic components and people have always appreciated that Au is scarce. But cryptocurrencies like bitcoin cash (BCH) are not only scarce, but they also allow people to send the funds across borders for less than a U.S. penny per transaction. You cannot move $10 million dollars worth of Au so easily across the world due to gold’s weight, the need for strong security, and shipping costs. Even the head of Real Asset Strategy at Wells Fargo, John LaForge, revealed on May 28 that he believes investors are not looking toward the shiny yellow metal these days. LaForge told the press that gold prices no longer look attractive and investors should look elsewhere for defensive assets.

Cryptocurrencies Are Defensive Assets Due to Their Provision of Permissionless Capital Mobility in a World of Austerity Measures and Economic Uncertainty

Alternative investments like cryptocurrencies have shown incredible resilience this year and have been climatic in comparison to even gold’s rise in value. For instance, gold (Au) was priced at $1,284 per troy ounce on Jan. 1, 2019 and has increased 3.97% when spot markets opened this morning on June 6 at $1,335 per ounce. In contrast, bitcoin cash (BCH) prices on Jan. 1, 2019 were around $150 per unit and since then BCH prices ($385 per coin at press time) have increased in value by a whopping 156%. In a world that’s filled with predatory negative interest lending, trade war escalation, central banks causing more economic busts and booms, and nation-state issued currencies suffering from hyperinflation, digital assets continue to look better every single day.

Economists are predicting the world is headed toward a deep recession that could resemble the hard times global citizens experienced in 2008 or worse. The value of sending permissionless hard money like BCH across borders is becoming greater than ever. As Sovereign Man discussed, markets aren’t rational, but there are ways to escape the wrath of the storm. Beneath all the chaos there are smart investors making key decisions at a time when precious metals markets and global equity markets are becoming archaic relics. While the economy falters, the acceleration of cryptocurrency performance will shine brightly as an investment in permissionless capital mobility coupled with noncustodial solutions. If hard economic times push more individuals toward the incentives of cryptos, it might just be the learning experience people need to stop making the same economic mistakes over and over again.

What do you think about the world economy and where it’s heading? Do you believe a global recession is coming? Do you think cryptocurrencies like bitcoin cash are defensive assets against failing currencies and the faltering economy? Let us know what you think about this subject in the comments section below.

Images credits: Shutterstock, Twitter, The World Bank Group, and Pixabay.

Now live, Markets.Bitcoin.com – A comprehensive, real-time listing of the cryptocurrency market valuations. View prices, charts, transaction volumes, and more for the top 500 cryptocurrencies trading today.

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Alex Moneton, AU, Australia, BCH, bitcoin cash, Boom and Bust, capital mobility, Carlo Alberto De Casa, Cryptocurrencies, Economy, Fed Chair Jerome Powell, Federal Reserve, gold, Gold Vs Bitcoin Cash, James Bullard, John LaForge, Negative Interest Rates, Reserve Bank of India, Sovereign Man

Jamie Redman

Jamie Redman is a financial tech journalist living in Florida. Redman has been an active member of the cryptocurrency community since 2011. He has a passion for Bitcoin, open source code, and decentralized applications. Redman has written thousands of articles for news.Bitcoin.com about the disruptive protocols emerging today.

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[cvfields]

The Year in Music

Happy 2018 people! Below you’ll find my annual list of my favorite tunes to come out of 2017. However, rather than merely provide you with commentary on what I think the world would be better off listening to, I thought it best to also use you people to vent other mindless ramblings through—specifically, my excessive opinions on today’s music in a broader sense, because despite whatever your thoughts may be on the world’s rather sorry 2017 campaign, I believe it’s safe to say the current state of music is in a wonderful place (or at its least, a better place than the nostalgia-minded would lead you to believe).

In terms of an industry stand point, the deciding factor obviously comes down to the platform in which music is consumed. Regardless of the optimism behind the vinyl revival, it’s no secret that today’s platform, and the platform of the foreseeable future is held down by the streaming giants of Spotify, Apple Music, and YouTube. However, with this reign has come the tiresome 2017 music publication debate of whether these giants can sustain the market, and whether such a market is beneficial to the artists and the music itself.

True, as a result of failures to acknowledge requirements of copyright law (and flat-out denial to compensate artists), Spotify is currently amid several well-deserving lawsuits that will substantially affect the future streaming landscape. Regardless though, this is America…and when faced with the possibility of its most valuable company (Apple) losing profits to a collective of upset musicians, or the possibility of a spoiled IPO (Spotify), you can almost guarantee our profit-minded/arts-averse lawmakers will take notice, as Congress has already demonstrated by their announcement of the Music Modernization Act (which would essentially and unfairly tilt copyright requirements in favor of these service providers).

Keep in mind that the recording industry is currently raking in more profits than ever, and is predicted to quintuple the all-time revenue highs seen during the CD-era by 2030 (all in the name of Apple Music and Spotify). Therefore, regardless of the income inequality war between artist/label/publisher/company, streaming’s insane financial effect on the music industry will make it near impossible that anything alters these tech giant’s path toward world domination. The earlier we accept this fact, and the earlier we accept these service providers for the deceptively monopolistic businessmen that they are (rather than the open-access saviors some claim them to be), the earlier we can acknowledge the not-so-obvious benefits this platform has to offer.

Obviously, streaming has allowed music to be far more available and convenient than ever before, where any person at any given place can access any song at any time for as many times as they desire. Although reliance on something purely out of convenience has its pitfalls in terms of quality, it’s my belief that this accessibility has led to a much more informed listener, which in turn has created a much more creative artist. For instance, unlike those whose influential capacity once depended on the records in their older brother’s stash, or only those CD’s/MP3’s that they were able to afford, today’s bored teenager can now fulfill their empty void for life by accessing all of the world’s music instantly…for as long as they choose…anywhere they want (whether it be one-off Thelonius Monk bootleg from 1958 or a just released Frank Ocean single). For those that might have an inclination toward actually creating music, the result will more likely be (and has been) an original sound formed by multiple genres, styles, and eras of music, as compared to a sound that emulates only those few records that they were able to get their hands on.

This is not me saying that today’s musicians are any more skilled than those of the past, or that today’s music is any greater in quality, but rather that streaming has simply given today’s musicians the capability of being much more musically-informed. This insight, along with the fact that any given person now has the ability to create and record music from any place they choose, has resulted in a new form of originality where the idea of genre is becoming less and less significant. When musicians aren’t constrained by a genre, the result is a world full of more interesting tunes built for longevity, and a world where listeners can unapologetically enjoy the music of all cultures. As someone who fully believes in music as the driving force behind culture as a whole, the societal payoff for such a blending of tastes is one that I can’t help but feel optimistic about.

To some, this all seems like a matter of over-availability, the result of which is a listen-and-ditch effect where the everyday consumer becomes so quick to move on to the next trend that they don’t have time to process what’s good and what’s not, better yet listen and respect a full album of work. For instance, rather than having no choice but to cherish and study an album/artist due to limited supply (a la Keith Richards with Chuck Berry or Eminem with Tupac), today’s youth are unable to get through even one of Spotify’s terribly force-fed playlist before being sent the next available thing. The result of which is new music that lacks the detail and influence it once had.

While I do agree that we’re in the midst of becoming a Black Mirror-like society full of mindless bots that stream, binge, and absorb anything and everything without retaining any of it beyond a mere surface level understanding, these types of listener shouldn’t be compared. There will always be those who care about and pay attention to music, and those who don’t. For instance, whether it be through a physical record or a stream, there will always be those who become so enchanted by a piece of music that they look to it for influence in their life, or even as the meaning of life all together. These are the ones that use streaming as a method to discover and consume a piece of music to the extent that some even seek to recreate the sounds (i.e. every musician). These are also the ones that have driven music venue openings and concert revenues to all-time highs, and are also the ones who have salvaged the physical market (emphasized by a 20% annual rise in vinyl sales and 35% for cassettes), which despite how cliché and Urban Outfitters-esq it has become, shows that people are once again appreciating the album in the way the artists intended, and are in pursuit of something more meaningful than the selected singles that are constantly shoved in their face.

Likewise, there will always be those who view music as holding no more meaningful value than being mere background noise to drown out whatever sociopathic journey they’re on (hence people’s reliance on playlists labeled “2000s & Chillin” and “Beards & Flannel”). There’s nothing wrong with listening to bad music, for just as much enjoyment or influence may be derived from Sugar Ray’s Music for Cougars as Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. However, when one is unable to distinguish a difference in substance between Mark McGrath and John Lennon (or care enough to), something has gone terribly wrong. This is not a knock on those, but rather the obvious fact that different people look to different things for enjoyment and self-meaning. Nonetheless, regardless of the made up psychiatric standard I choose to separate the human race by, the one constant is that streaming benefits both.

Maybe this is all much too optimistic, as there are still plenty of problems with the music of today (i.e. the streaming giant’s control over what we hear, the decline in guitar bands, the disappearance of the guitar idol, mumble rap, Lil’ everybody, branding through social media rather than the music itself, diminishing local scenes, etc.). Or maybe none of this matters, as some new form of technology is certain to change up the future landscape of music. Regardless of my circular/overly drawn-out beliefs, the point I’m trying to get at is that music is currently in a wonderfully weird place for both the listener and the artist.

We’re living in a time where a group of 14 kids from Texas can form a “boyband” by means of meeting on a Kanye message board, move to Compton, release three critically-acclaimed/genre-bending albums all recorded in a bedroom, and set out on a largely sold-out headlining tour—all within one year (speaking of hip-hop collective “BROCKHAMPTON”); a time where John Mayer, who built a career as a TJ Maxx soundtrack, has become a well-respected replacement of one of our most historically sacred musicians in Jerry Garcia (whose fan base now consists of an entire new generation of twenty-something year old’s despite it being 40 years past the Grateful Dead’s golden-era); a time where many of these young Dead Heads may unapologetically be as equally big fans of present-day hip-hop culture as they are of the late-‘60s; a time where artists such as Sturgill Simpson and Jason Isbell are finally restoring the term “country”, which has been butchered by Vegas shows and the Florida Georgia Lines of the world for the last three decades; a time where one viral song from Ft. Worth can almost single-handedly bring mid-century soul back into the mainstream and catapult an artist from washing dishes to Harry Style’s tour opener within two years (Leon Bridges); a time where a group of white Canadian jazz artists calling themselves BADBADNOTGOOD are a bigger commodity in the hip-hop world than Timbaland (as their production/collaborations are seen all over the biggest names in the genre); a time where a legit garage-rock band has the capability of releasing five full-length/quality LPs in one year (King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard); a time where the brostep/EDM shit storm of a phenomenon has finally met its end; and a time where out of pure luck and timing, bootlegs from the previously unheard vaults of Hendrix, Leonard Cohen, the Stones, Dylan, Neil, are being released (thanks to European copyright law which strips the rights away from any recording that sits unreleased for 50 years, forcing labels to release raw tapes that bootleggers got their hands on back in the day); etc. etc. etc. etc.

It’s a bit dramatic, I know, but you get the point. Whether it be changes in technology, people, or the music itself, several things have made it tough to be upset with the overall big picture of music right now. In my opinion, nothing better represents this point than the music of 2017. While I do believe numerically ranking music is a pointless and ineffective way of explaining my love for a piece of music or an artist (considering the differences between bests and favorites, and considering opinions vary with moods), I’ve attempted to dramatize things a bit for you dear readers by listing my favorites of 2017 in somewhat of an orderly fashion.

16. Bedouine: Bedouine

Beautiful acoustic tunes from Syrian-born/Saudi-raised/L.A.-established Azniv Korkejian, that conjures up the obvious guitar-toting females of the early 70’s folk scene (a la Joni Mitchell and Joan Baez), while also staying close to the simplistic feel of JJ Cale and Nick Drake.

Essentials: “Nice and Quiet”, “One of These Days”, “You Kill Me”

Listen on Spotify

15. King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard: Gumboot Soup

As mentioned above, the rate at which these Australian pych-rockers put out music this year is just insane. As if one album each of the last three years wasn’t enough, the band promised five full-length releases in the 2017 calendar year, which Gumboot Soup satisfied with its December 31st release. While each of the five offer plenty of flavors ranging from the glam-rock sounds of T-Rex, the prog-rock sounds of RUSH, and Miles Davis-inspired improvisational-jazz, Gumboot Soup offers the most complete and accessible tunes of the bunch. Although you won’t find a catchy radio-friendly standout, what you will find is a truly unique brand of rock music that’s appeal stems the band’s ability to tap into this historical vault of sounds, as well as their tendency to think outside of the box (i.e. Basing an entire album off of a custom-made microtonal guitar).

Listen if you like: Ty Segall, Mild High Club, Black Lips

Essentials: “Beginner’s Luck”, “Muddy Water”, “The Last Oasis”

Listen on Spotify

14. Dr. Dog: Abandoned Mansion

Known for their experimentation and eclecticism, Dr. Dog had yet to put out an album that I’ve truly loved all the way through—that is until Abandoned Mansion. Here, they ease off their psych-rock capabilities for a more folk-driven pop record that’s further reminiscent of The Beach Boys than it is the ELO-like sound of their previous few efforts. Although the majority of the tunes are acoustic and laid back, the album offers plenty of memorable hooks and entertainment. In the band’s own words, it’s “easy peasy listening…no blips or bloops or anything else that might unsettle you.” This may seem like layup for a band that prides themselves on challenging their audience through experimentation and risk taking. However, what it is to me is underratedly good music from an underratedly good band that was just looking to challenge themselves in a different way.

Listen if you like: My Morning Jacket, Dawes

Essentials: “Ladada”, “Survive”, “Abandoned Mansion”

Listen on Spotify

13. Toro y Moi: Boo Boo

By now it’s no secret that Chaz Bundick aka Chaz Bear aka Toro y Moi is an unpredictable man of many forms. Since beginning as the pioneer to the unfortunately named “chillwave” movement, he then released electronic dance music under the name Les Sins, released a 70’s-infused guitar-rock album reminiscent of Big Star, recorded a live album performed in an empty Californian desert with no audience, created and toured with twin brother jazz duo the Mattson 2, and is now back with his most ambitious/strangest/possibly best Toro y Moi album to date in Boo Boo. While it feels like a concept album intentionally targeting the 80’s sex scene sounds of Top Gun, it’s actually a calculated demonstration of Bundick’s insane ability to change face, disregard whatever sound previously brought him success, and fully execute an interpretation of whatever music/things are currently influencing him. Luckily for us, Bundick’s influences this time around included Frank Ocean, Daft Punk, Oneohtrix Point Never, cheap early-80’s synths, and a nasty breakup, resulting in nostalgic/honest/R&B pop jams.

Essentials: “No Show”, “Girl Like You”, “You and I”

Listen on Spotify

12. Grizzly Bear: Painted Ruins

After years of non-stop hype (heightened by constant critical praise, claims from Radiohead’s Johnny Greenwood that they’re his favorite band, and Jay-Z/Beyonce/Solange showing up to shows), Grizzly Bear was a band that I was guilty of wanting to like—guilt that stemmed from the old adage of when you’re told enough times that something is good, surely it must be good right? Nonetheless, other than their 2009 Volkswagen-induced-mega-hit, “Two Weeks”, I couldn’t make it through a single song. Instead, I found their position as indie-rock royalty simply a matter of someone having to fulfil such a title. Fast forward to my gazzilionth run through Painted Ruins, and RIP my 2004 – 2016 self.

Contrary to the easy listening of Dr. Dog’s Abandoned Mansion, the beauty behind Grizzly Bear’s first album in five years is what it demands from the listener. Elaborate and multi-layered, Painted Ruins illustrates the unreal multi-instrumental talent of each member and their overall attention to detail (i.e. each snare sound, guitar tone, bizarre chord choice, etc.). This in turn requires several listens, but also allows the listener to discover new things each time. Combining these intricacies with Ed Droste’s New Wave/Morrissey-esq voice would regularly make for something convoluted and overly dramatic, but as a Grizzly Bear’s tunes always do, they somehow use these elements to create eleven sophisticated pop-rock songs that become more enjoyable with every listen. If you’re one who refers to music as mindless background noise, this album isn’t for you (though it’s unlikely you would have read this far), but if you like to have an album grow on you and take shape with every listen, spin ittttt.

Essentials: “Mourning Sound”, “Four Cypresses”, “Neighbors”

Listen on Spotify

11. BROCKHAMPTON: SATURATION I, II & III

Similar to King Gizzard’s prolific nature, this self-proclaimed “boyband” made their impact felt in 2017 by releasing an impressive amount of music with an even more impressive level of quality. After locating to a home studio in Compton, the group (which consists of 7 lyricists, 4 producers, a photographer, a creative director, and a web developer) went on to self-release three completely legit hip-hop albums within the year (SATURATION I, II, & III), each one showing more creativity and substance than the last. In doing so, they’ve also created an online-fueled hip-hop subculture occupied by a bunch of rabid kids that seem to have been waiting for something just like BROCKHAMPTON (see live videos for proof). This is largely in part to the fact that their music translates to any hip-hop fan, regardless of whether you’re a hip-hop-head that takes pride in your historical knowledge and taste for the genre, a fist pumping meathead yearning for party jams, or an angst-ridden teen attracted to your own gender that’s looking for a musical form of representation.

Whether this rate of output and quality is sustainable, I don’t know…but for those looking for something refreshing, I highly recommend it. Once you dive in, you’ll quickly realize this isn’t just some online craze fueled by kids—the talent is legit, the music is inviting, and the model in which the group is operating is something completely new that I expect will lay the ground work for similar groups in the future.

Essentials: “SWEET”, “BOOGIE”, “BLEACH”, “STAINS”, “GUMMY”

Listen on Spotify

10. Goldlink: At What Cost

With the help of production savants Kaytranada and Steve Lacy, Goldlink cooks up the year’s most fun and most underrated electronic-infused hip-hop of the year in At What Cost. While artists such as Kendrick and J.Cole make their impression by touching on personal/societal issues, Goldlink’s music instead represents a form of escapism—flexing his abilities through stories of women and his hometown D.C., making for constantly enjoyable tunes that focus on Goldink’s unique rhythmic vocal style rather than a continual reminder that the world’s on fire.

Essentials: “Herside Story”, “Summertime”, “Crew”

Listen on Spotify

9. Mount Kimbie: Love What Survives

In Love What Survives, Mount Kimbie expands on the post-punk sounds of the late-70’s (a la Joy Division/The Cure) by using an array of synths to further their self-established genre coined “post-dubstep” (most notably shared by James Blake and Jamie xx). Though it’s technically electronic-based music, the band’s use of live instrumentation and their choice of rhythms make it feel anything but. All in all, the album is a mixed bag of sonically pleasing tunes that get better and more interesting with every listen.

Listen if you like: Radiohead, James Blake, Carribou

Essentials: “Marilyn”, “Blue Train Lines”, “SP12 Beat”

Listen on Spotify

8. Kamasi Washington: Harmony of Difference

After gaining recognition for his work on Kendrick’s To Pimp a Butterfly, as well as for his development of the West Coast Get Down (the L.A. jazz crew including the likes of Thundercat, Miles Mosley, and Cameron Graves), Kamasi hit the scene in 2015 with his debut The Epic, an insane three-hour burner that landed him on major festival bills across the country and on the same label as The xx (further emphasizing his defiance toward the status quo of jazz). This year, deterring from the hectic and complex nature of his debut, Kamasi has gifted us one of the most accessible, catchy, and relaxing instrumental albums you’ll come across. Whether you’re all jazz or no jazz, Kamasi’s saxophone and composition talents should be heard, especially if you’re one who has been looking for something to get them into the genre.

Essentials: “Knowledge”, “Truth”

Listen on Spotify

7. Kevin Morby: City Music

In 2016, Morby left New York for L.A. to release one of my all-time favorite albums in Singing Saw. The result of which was widespread critical acclaim for a 28 year-old singer-songwriter that had spent the majority of his New York years hopping around indie bands like Woods and The Babies. Little did we know that shortly after Singing Saw’s release, Morby and his band were right back in studio conjuring up more amazing tunes that would comprise City Music. If Singing Saw is his L.A. album (as depicted by the cover art and the overall desert feel), City Music is definitely his New York album, as the influences of Lou Reed and early-70’s New York are evident throughout the record (even including an unlikely Ramones cover). Though the guitar playing and upbeat arrangements represent more of an overall rock ‘n’ roll feel, City Music still stays true to Morby’s rambling/melodic vocal approach, making it impossible to duck the obvious comparisons to Cohen and Dylan. While I think these comparisons are too easily thrown around, where Morby deems himself worthy of such praise is in his ability to use these influences while also applying modern elements to his music (including the indie/garage-rock sounds of his previous groups). The result is a completely distinct singer-songwriter sound that is no better displayed than in City Music.

Listen if you like: Angel Olsen, Kurt Vile, Lou Reed less the heroin

Essentials: “Cry Baby”, “City Music”, “Tin Can”

Listen on Spotify

6. SZA: Ctrl

Just nine months ago, hardly anybody knew who SZA was. Those that did had written her off after numerous delays of her debut. Fast forward to now, she has a certified-gold album, several platinum singles, five Grammy nominations, has an SNL performance under her belt, and is set to headline major festivals throughout 2018—she’s everywhere, all showing just how insanely good her long-awaited debut is.

Taking elements of R&B, hip-hop, and indie-rock, CTRL represents a new form of radio-friendly pop music dominated by the actual talents of a singer-songwriter rather than a record label’s ability/tendency to market any black 26-year-old female through sex appeal. On that note, while many may at first glance hear a female R&B artist singing over hip-hop-laden beats and immediately think to Rihanna, the reality is that SZA’s ability and substance goes so much further. Her beyond-personal subject matter, her harmonized raps, her off-cadence delivery, her ability to create sustainable hooks, and her calculated way of weaving in and out of a beat while always feeling natural, offers something more reminiscent of Frank Ocean and Lauryn Hill than it does the many Rihanna’s out there that represent more of an idea or symbol than they do a musician.

However, CTRL’s most notable asset is in its humanization—SZA’s ability to connect to the listener by speaking on everyday thoughts and situations. While most artists would find this subject matter overly awkward or unmarketable (ex. being a time-sharing side-piece) SZA instead thrives on it, using these stories and insecurities in a way that solidifies her as a real person doing real person things rather than one who’s everyday conscious revolves around life on a private jet. By doing so, her words become believable, which when combined with the album’s strong production, makes for an impactful hour of jams.

Essentials: “Supermodel”, “Love Galore”, “The Weekend”, “Broken Clocks”

Listen on Spotify

5. Four Tet: New Energy

Shifting between an array of electronic sub-genres by sampling acoustic instruments and global sounds (harps, steel drums, strings, horns, etc.), Kieran Hebden has been able to establish the “folktronica” identity of Four Tet which has carried him among the top electronic musicians for the last decade. This year, rather than bringing something completely new to the table, New Energy extends this organic sound to formulate an overall carefree/well-spent hour of tunes that you’ll quickly forget is computer-based music. When it comes to certain electronic/experimental music, it’s tough pin-point exactly why it makes the impact that it does, which explains exactly why it’s so appealing. An album like New Energy is a meticulously-constructed collection of soundscapes that need to be heard and felt rather than over-analyzed and read on. For those in need of some work/study/productivity-inducing tunes, or for those in need of some overall downtime, please check it.

Essentials: “Two Thousand and Seventeen”, “Lush”, “Planet”

Listen on Spotify

4. Beach Fossils: Somersault

While you can find plenty written up on the majority of this list, Beach Fossils have somehow managed to go almost completely unnoticed by the appointing sector of the music world (for whatever that's worth), making Somersault easily my most underrated album of the year. After years of making messy DIY indie-rock, project creator Dustin Payseur finally finds an identifiable sound in Somersault, which comes off as Brooklyn gloom as it does LA beach rock. In it, Payseur still resorts to his lo-fi/reverb-filled shoegaze methods. However, by collaborating with other band members for the first time, as well as incorporating strings, flutes, and fitting keyboard play, he does so in a way that is much tighter and more sonically thought out than his past work. Whichever way you analyze it, Somersault is an incredibly accessible and fun album that’ll provide you with classy indie-rock jams that fit any mood, whether melancholic or optimistic.

Essentials: “This Year”, “Sugar”, “Down the Line”

Listen on Spotify

3. Kendrick Lamar: DAMN.

Artists in the realm of Kendrick shouldn’t still be on these lists. Being one of the most well-respected and sought after cultural figures of the last decade, already with two of the most distinguished hip-hop albums of all-time, Kendrick should be slowly losing touch with the realities in which his lyricism relies on (i.e. see the effects of Drake’s jet ski escapades with DJ Khaled on his last few album cycles). Instead, 2017 has been his most prolific and creative year of his career, spearheaded by the release of his fourth completely genius album within a five-year span (as well as his 3rd Album of the Year Grammy nomination in as many years). Not since Andre 3000’s five album run with OutKast has someone touched this rate of output, quality, and innovation (sry Big Boi).

Already creating a rallying cry for America’s marginalized in To Pimp a Butterfly, DAMN. instead turns inward, emphasizing his own personal journey to the top. Doing so, he recognizes the aforementioned effects of fame on his own conscious and morality while also furthering his thoughts on the irrationality of our country and those in power. Just as To Pimp a Butterfly inexplicably managed to make a middle-class white 23 year-old feel as though he understand the perils of minority life in South Central L.A., DAMN. creates a world in which Kendrick’s personal issues are once again relatable (though they clearly shouldn’t be).

In terms of overall feel, DAMN.’s production choices more closely represent the hit-making nature of Good Kid, M.A.A.D City (which explains its reign on the charts). However, the complexities and risks seen in To Pimp a Butterfly are still evident (i.e. successfully throwing Bono on a hip-hop track!?), making DAMN. arguably Kendrick’s most encompassing work to date. Withholding personal comparisons and over-analyzation into everything Kendrick, what it comes down to is that DAMN. is a deep yet fun album that fulfills both the need for introspective thought and the need for party jams.

In a time where people are resorting to mumble rap and Cardi B as an outlet of entertainment, it’s beyond refreshing to know that a quality-driven artist like Kendrick can still amass billions of streams and fame without sacrificing any originality or overall vision. Being at the top of his game while only 30 years-old, we shouldn’t expect this rate of fame or quality to show any signs of slowing down.

Essentials: For those that question Kendrick’s ability, please resort to “DUCKWORTH”

Listen on Spotify

2. Sampha: Process

Hearing his voice all over recently acclaimed records (Drake’s “Too Much”, Frank Ocean’s “Alabama”, Solange’s “Don’t Touch My Hair”), as well as his signing to XL Recordings (Adele, Radiohead, White Stripes), all before the release of his first album, it’s safe to say Sampha’s debut was as hyped as an album can get. Despite the buildup, he delivered one of best and most personal albums of the year (which won the 2017 Mercury Prize for Britain’s best album). Following the passing of both parents to cancer, Process details Sampha’s coping with the situation, which when combined with one of the most uniquely soulful voices out there, makes for something incredible. Solely writing and producing the entire album (less a little help from Kanye & Rodaidh McDonald), Sampha blends elements of soul, hip-hop, and electronic in a way that restricts him or the album from being compared to the work of any other artist. Process uses this singular style to form a collection of songs that while catchy and pop-driven, remain musically complex enough to make for much more than a mere passive listen. Even if R&B isn’t your thing, the album’s ballad “(No One Knows Me) Like the Piano” will undoubtedly hit you in the feels.

Essentials: “(No One Knows Me) Like the Piano”, “Reverse Faults”, “Incomplete Kisses”

Listen on Spotify

1. The War on Drugs: A Deeper Understanding

Last year, following the success of their previous opus, Lost in the Dream, the band announced their departure from indie-bebe Secretly Canadian to the all-mighty Atlantic records. As their first gesture under the label, they dropped an 11-minute space odyssey of a single in “Thinking of a Place,” which drones of more noise and less hooks than any song of the album, quickly settling any worries about the changeover. The songs that followed were equally as appealing, making A Deeper Understanding my clear cut favorite album of the year.

Taking elements of experimental rock (a la Sonic Youth), shoegaze (a la My Bloody Valentine), and the synth-driven sounds of the acceptable few in the new-wave era, A Deeper Understanding expands on the Springsteen-like heartland sound of The War on Drugs, making it Adam Granduciel’s biggest and most ambitious work yet (especially considering he wrote, produced, and played almost the entirety of the album). While the songs are dense with reverb, synth, and scattered guitar solos, Granduciel’s OCD-fueled attention to detail (along with the help of an Atlantic budget) harnesses these layers of chaos to create an aesthetic that’s complex yet full of space.

Another element that’s clear throughout the album is Granduciel’s growth as a guitarist. In a recent interview, he detailed how watching Neil Young from the side of the stage influenced him to use the instrument in completely new ways (building on Neil’s ability to look and sound like a possessed animal). The result of which are hectic/patient/impactful Neil-like riffs that come from somewhere much deeper than a mere technical ability to run through guitar scales. Similar to how an underlying bass rhythm shapes dance music, these solos shape the entirety of the album, serving as an effective peak of each song (some of which have multiple). This instrumentation combined with his Dylan-inspired vocal approach makes for a timeless album that fits any mood (whether calm or upbeat) and any listener (whether seeking radio-friendly pop hooks or spaced out guitar jams).

In a time where guitar bands continue to see their popularity decline (as 2017 became the first year where hip-hop surpassed rock as music’s most consumed genre), it’s bands like The War on Drugs that we shouldn’t take advantage of. They’re a genuine rock band that have spent the last decade grinding out time on the road and in the studio before fully realizing their sound and finding real success. Even with this success, their approach hasn’t changed—no gimmicks, very little press, an unbelievable live show that takes importance over everything else, and studio tunes that have evolved with each album.

Essentials: “Pain”, “Strangest Thing”, “Thinking of a Place”

Listen on Spotify

Other Favorites: Thundercat: Drunk, Jay Som: Everybody Works, Los Colognes: The Wave, Makaya McCraven: Highly Rare, Tyler, the Creator: Flower Boy, Japanese Breakfast: Soft Sounds from Another Planet, Neil Young: Hitchhiker, John Moreland: Big Bad Luv, Twain: Rare Feeling, Anti Lilly & Phoniks: It's Nice Outside, Big Thief: Capacity, Cornelius: Mellow Waves

For those interested in a quick way to hear all of my 2017 favorites, check the playlist:

by Connor Fields

connorvfields@gmail.com

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I'm a long time MacBook user and tried Microsoft's new Surface Book 2 for a week — here's what I learned (MSFT, AAPL, GOOG)

I have used a MacBook Pro as my main computing machine for the past five years, and switched to Microsoft's new Surface Book 2 for a week to see how the transition was.

The hardware is fantastic — but you need some time to adjust and appreciate it.

The complexity is tied to Windows 10, which is a more flexible and intricate operating system than macOS.

To fully appreciate the Surface Book and Windows 10, Microsoft indirectly asks you to switch to its suite of software and services, and my strong ties with Google's ecosystem made that nearly impossible.

I have been using a MacBook Pro as my main computing machine for the past five years, and have grown to love it. From the fantastic hardware to the sleekness of macOS, despite a few shortcomings, Apple's offering has mostly kept me happy.

More recently, I have also become a big fan of what Microsoft has been doing with its hardware, and when I got the chance to try out one of its new Surface Book 2 devices, I jumped on the opportunity.

I have used a family Surface Pro 4 extensively, and even got to spend some time with the most recent model, simply called Surface Pro, which I adored, so I had had my fair share of experience with Windows 10 (in addition to years of using Windows XP, 7, and 8).

With the Surface Book 2, however, I decided to take a different approach: I fully switched for a week, and used it as my primary laptop, as if I had purchased it myself to replace the MacBook.

This inevitably left me with some strong impressions, and a big, partly unexpected, realisation: I am more tied to Google's suite of software and services than I ever thought.

Here's what I learned:

The hardware is spectacular

This is the first thing that's immediately obvious the moment you remove the plastic wrap: The cold feeling of the magnesium casing, its softly brushed texture, the sturdiness of the device itself — it hits you right away, and it's the kind of thing you would expect from Apple rather than Microsoft.

Magnesium is also surprisingly refreshing to the touch opposed to the MacBook's aluminum as it's generally colder and it feels more genuine, as if the alloy itself hadn't gone through dozens of machines; it's not a big deal, obviously, but it's the kind of subtle, distinctive detail that shows that Microsoft cares, and it wants its devices to stand out in an ever-increasing sea of homogeneous products from all sorts of manufacturers.

The Surface Book 2 is a product like nothing else: It opens up as a laptop, but it has a fully detachable screen that turns into a tablet in its own right; or you can flip it around, re-attach it to the keyboard, and fold it, all the way down if you want.

If you do detach and then reattach the top portion backwards, there are two main positions: Flat, where you might want to use it for activities such as drawing, or with a 45-degree angle, which can be very comfortable if you plan to watch videos.

And, in any way you look at it, the 13.5-inch, 3000x2000 display is insanely gorgeous: It's sharp and detailed, with colours that really pop while not being overly saturated, and a slightly warmer tone than my MacBook's, which made it a tad easier and more pleasing to the eye.

The buttons, as well as the trackpad and keyboard keys, are stiff and with good, satisfying travel, involuntarily reminding you that this is a high-quality product. After all, at £1,500 for the base model (with an Intel Core i5 CPU, 8GB of RAM, and 256GB of storage), it should be (it goes all the way up to i7/16GB/1TB for £3,000).

Performance is also top notch: My device always kept things speedy and quiet — it never froze, slowed down, or needed to reboot — even with three browsers (with dozens of tabs open), Steam, Spotify, OneNote, and other apps open at the same time.

It can also run games at decent settings, but don't expect top-notch performance; if that's what you're looking for, the bigger 15-inch version has an option with a GTX 1060 GPU, which is decidedly more powerful than the 1050 my unit had (the 15-inch model is only available in the US right now).

The Book did get a little warm at times, but overall I was surprised by its performance — in comparison, my aging MacBook's fans kick in rapidly if I don't pay attention to my workload (although it too did just fine for the first years of its life).

There are other nice things you'll find on the outer case, such as two full-size USB-A ports, — the ones you won't see on more recent MacBooks — a USB-C hole, and Microsoft's MagSafe-like opening for charging.

But the most interesting nicety hides underneath the top portion of the screen's bezel, where the Windows Hello-enabling camera is nestled.

Windows 10 is a great operating system that's both powerful and complex

That camera is one of the few things that begin to really separate Microsoft's and Apple's offerings.

Windows Hello is Microsoft's system that allows biometric authentications, like fingerprint reading and face scanning. The Surface Book has the latter, and in my testing it has been consistently accurate in recognising me, as well as blazing fast.

There's something special about lifting the lid, opening it and being automatically and securely logged in to your desktop; Apple already has Face ID on the iPhone X, which works very well in my experience, but on the laptop it makes even more sense, as you're always looking at the screen at angles that don't require you to adjust.

It will probably be a matter of time before Face ID finds its way to Apple's computers, but for now, Mac users are "stuck" with fingerprint readers on MacBook Pros, which work well but aren't as seamless. For me, coming from an older machine, it was a very nice bump ahead.

Then there's Windows 10 itself — and this is where people, particularly tempted MacBook users like me, should weigh up carefully before deciding whether it's worth jumping ship.

In a nutshell, I think that Windows 10 is a fantastic operating system (OS), and one that's possibly more interesting than macOS. Whereas Apple's focus is clearly on iOS, with its desktop OS being treated more like legacy software with no real upgrades, Microsoft has turned Windows 10 into a service that's constantly evolving and adding new things.

There are two problems I've had with it, however: One is more likely to be shared by the majority, while the other one was more personal — although that, too, is an issue many might run into.

After using the Surface Book 2 for a week, I got left with the feeling that Windows 10 is an incredibly powerful, flexible, and capable OS, one that actually does much more than I need. This can be good at times, but it feels overwhelming at others.

It's a double-edged sword. Windows 10's learning curve is steeper than macOS', which remains a relatively simple, straightforward OS; but it's also a more rewarding one: The more I delved into Windows, the more I realised just how much stuff you can do.

Just think about how many ways of interacting with it you have: There's the normal laptop mode, with trackpad and keyboard; then there's tablet mode — with dedicated software tweaks — then the flip-mode; and beyond the touchscreen you can also use peripherals such as the Surface Pen stylus, and the Surface Dial (a puck-shaped accessory that you rotate and changes its functionality based on the app you're using).

They change the experience, ideally for the better, but all ask for some learning time. You are not forced to use them, and could simply stick to using it as a laptop — but then the Book shouldn't be the machine you buy. The more time passes, the more you find yourself taking advantage of all this flexibility. That's nice, but unless you are using specific applications and have particular needs (where using the Pen, the Dial, the flip-mode or else are obvious, immediate improvements), it still feels like overkill.

The Surface Book 2 is, by far, the machine that better encapsulates Windows 10: A system for pro users, who have specific needs and know how to take advantage of such a complex and capable machine. It feels like using a technologically advanced supercar, if you will — but if all you do is commuting to and from work with the occasional jaunt, you probably don't need a Ferrari.

Windows 10 only gives its best if you use Microsoft's software and services

This makes the move to Windows more of a question of having too much to gain rather risking to lose something by leaving another system like macOS, and all the acquired familiarity with it.

Personally, I believe I could switch without too much trouble and keep doing what I do. There is some readjustment — namely with gestures, which I use a lot on macOS and have grown accustomed to — but nothing that would make me wish I had never made the move. Over time, as mentioned, you slowly learn to master and appreciate the Book 2's and Windows 10's versatility, and going back to the Mac actually feels like a bit of sacrifice.

My final assessment on the platform itself is "I like it, I like it a lot, but I don't really need all this added functionality." What I use my computer for, I thought, I can do just as well whether I'm on my old MacBook or a Windows 10 machine.

Except I can't; not really.

When I considered switching permanently (for the sake of change), one aspect eventually stopped me, and that's Microsoft's suite of services. Let me elaborate:

As someone who spends the vast majority of his online time within a browser, I devoted much of my online life to Google. In this, Apple isn't too invasive, as I simply ignore most of its services and just stick to Google's.

It's what I thought I'd be doing on Windows. But Microsoft — which has an ostensibly superior software suite compared to Apple's — always tries to lure you in. And it does a good job at that, not least because of the constant pop-up reminders that ask you to try out Cortana, its Edge browser, or the Office 365 suite. It may seem trivial, but when Cortana starts opening search queries on Bing inside Edge, you realise how invasive this is.

And that's certainly annoying, but Microsoft takes it a step further. That's because its suite of products is the only one that actually takes advantage of all the hardware and software perks built into the Book and Windows. As you get more and more accustomed to Windows and start using its features, you slowly realise how insanely wide the gap between its products and those from other software makers are.

The most staggering example comes in the way of performance: Using Microsoft Edge I noticed considerable speed improvements over Chrome, and OneNote's integration with one click of the Surface Pen obliterates the poor experience of opening Google Keep in a new tab.

On that example: I love using the Surface Pen and the Surface Book's touchscreen to draw on Google Keep, my go-to notes app, but OneNote is much better integrated into the experience, so I'm torn between choosing the software I have always used and the one that actually works better.

On my Mac, using Apple's Notes app is better than opening a new tab and firing up Keep, but the difference is not nearly as big. In that case, the "ecosystem superiority" (aka sticking to what you already use) takes priority over small functional improvements.

And I use many of Google's software products: Gmail, Inbox, Keep, Maps, YouTube, Search, Photos — the list goes on, and I'm sure I'm not alone in this. On my Mac — and Apple's hardware in general — it's much easier to keep Apple's influence down and just live with Google.

Microsoft, on the other hand, makes this really hard, and essentially asks for a full commitment — the OneNote example above is just one. For every online service Google has, Microsoft has a counterpart, and it often works better.

There where the hardware switch from Apple to Microsoft is feasible, the software migration over to the Redmond giant's services is not — at least not in my case. The problem is not that Microsoft's offering is bad, but that it's demanding.

If you're already a user of Microsoft's software, then by all means go for it; the Surface Book 2 is genuinely a spectacular product that will have a lot to offer — and if you think the Surface Book 2 itself is too much of a pro machine, look at the Surface Laptop or the Surface Pro, or any of the other great Windows machines manufacturers like HP and Dell offer.

If, like me, you are already tied to another ecosystem, however, you will either have to adapt, look elsewhere, or keep doing what you do with a few added annoyances. I was saddened by this, because it showed me how strong of a hold Google has on me. But it is what it is.

The whole package is great, but you need to take it all

I liked using the Surface Book 2 a lot, and am genuinely excited about the development of Windows 10. It's a great operating system, and the Book 2 is possibly its best incarnation as of yet.

But to enjoy it fully — and justify the purchase — you need to be in a very niche group of people that are both not too heavily tied to other companies' ecosystems of software and services and that can really take advantage of all of that the Surface Book/Windows combo has to give.

I, for one, couldn't justify the full switch. Even the MacBook Pro that I own, save for some Photoshop and a few heavier applications, is a machine I bought only because of my admittedly over-demanding browsing needs, but I could very well live with a Chromebook.

If only the Pixelbook were half as nice as a Surface Book, that is.

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