Roll Over Michael Bolton, And Tell Huey Lewis And The News The News
Nov 29 '00
CAPTAIN'S LOG
STARDATE 05/05/2050
Engaged in a routine patrol of a cluster known as the Milky Way, the USS Enterprise was alerted by some residents of the planet Earth who sent out a distress call saying they were in need of assistance and could we come urgently and bring those funny things that you flick up and speak into.
Dr. McCoy, Mr. Spock and myself were beamed down to the planet's surface along with three anonymous crew members who were quickly killed.
The three of us gained entrance to the primitive dwelling we had traced the source of the transmissions to. Upon entering, it seemed to be an establishment where the oldest members of the race were made to watch television constantly and eat pureed tinned peaches.
We found the two Earthlings who had communicated with us. The one who called himself Michael sported a bizarre hairstyle where a smattering of white hair was arranged as to be short on top and long at the back. This is similar to the custom of the people of the planet Meldak in the Astromullet Nebula, the ones with the really bad music.
The Earthling called Celine, who we later learned was female, spoke in a distressingly harsh frequency and has ruptured the monofibre optulate in Spock's language translator and made the little red light on the top stop working.
We learnt that these two beings had once been immensely popular amongst the planet's population. Fifty years earlier, though, renegade Earthlings using primitive computer port systems had brought anarchy to their existence and wiped out their empires.
Dr. McCoy studied the ears of the being called Michael. A strong odour of effluent was noted. The openings seemed to be blocked. It was at this point the one called Celine began making an intensely distressing sound vibration. Mr. Spock identified the words as a primitive peasant song about a ship which had sunk, and as the waves of sound became unbearable, I took the decision to set phasers on stun and fire.
She responded with what these savages call "urin-ation" and covered McCoy with a viscous, carbon-based fluid which he said gave him an unfamiliar warm, tingly feeling.
We investigated further and talked to some younger planet dwellers. It was only then we were informed of the righteousness of the computer port network and the way it had strengthened the cause of the sound underground.
We learned that no-one who made music earned any credits any longer as they were simply making their transmissions available to the network as soon as they were produced.
Michael and Celine had been famous, and now became forgotten as record companies slowly became extinct.
Earthlings seem to have started music as an outlet for people to create art with freedom, but had been in danger of turning the concept into a traded commodity. The so-called Napsterites were instrumental in returning music to a meeting-place for artists who knew they weren't going to gain any reward except for maybe enough to buy food, and the knowledge there was someone listening.
It was at this point that Dr. McCoy met a redhead called Mabel who he fell in love with, and dutifully had to explain how he had to get back to the ship, and how the last time he mated with someone from this galaxy, she'd given birth to 46 octopus-like creatures ten minutes later, and he was constantly having to fork out credits for each one - apparently it was a real bummer having to buy shoes.
At the end of our mission, when we beamed back aboard, Lieutenant Uhuru informed us the Napsterites had beamed some music aboard. Spock has been investigating the music from the sector the Earthlings call Chicago. He informs us some of the rhythms are based on the radio interference parameters of planet Meldak.
Bones is conducting experiments on the benefits of playing the Orb during operations, and Scotty says the new Melt Banana album goes down well with the whales in the engine room (who we're going to drop back on Earth when they shag, or something).
Me? I'm grooving on the sounds of these doors, and thinking about taking "Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds" where no tune has gone before.
We have recommended to the Federation Judicial Committee that the Earthlings Michael and Celine are sent to Punishment Planet Aphex to have their brains eaten out by those beetles from "Star Trek II: The Wrath Of Khan." My God, that was a bad film.
END OF LOG
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Spock's Final Thought
Go well and prosper. Ragga junglist massive, mash up da Enterprise. Bo! Selecta!
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