An open letter to Alex Kurtzman
- Thread starter Mudd
- Start date
I think I misunderstood the OP Post. I thought we were supposed to each add a sentence or two to the previous, and keep it going like that. Still, good stuff!
No, you got it. But pretty much everyone else misunderstood.
I think I misunderstood the OP Post. I thought we were supposed to each add a sentence or two to the previous, and keep it going like that. Still, good stuff!
No, you got it. But pretty much everyone else misunderstood.
We can't even work on an open letter together without someone deciding (in typical fashion) that their open letter is the *right* open letter.
Dear Alex Kurtzman,
You don't know me and I've never worked a day on the staff of any television series, but I am a real Star Trek fan who's watched a lot of television since I was a little kid. I figure I've averaged six hours a day.
And you're sort of a wunderkind, so you really aren't even old enough to have seen as much TV as me.
So I'm clearly qualified to tell you how to do your job.
Pay attention, dummy. This is important
You obliterated an entire Universe, Space-Time Continuum, and Compendium of Canon, and brought back Spock from the ether. But, here's the thing:
Whatever CBS is paying you, it's not worth it.
Read a few pages of the TrekBBS, then cash your check, and run away.
While you still have time.
If you choose to remain, it's <throat slash sound> Kobayashi Maru for you. You may go on to bigger and better things, you might become rich beyond the dreams of avarice, but you'll never be able to live with yourself, because for the rest of your days and beyond we'll whine and point to the spot on the (limited edition) action figure where you did the bad touch to our beloved Trek.
You don't know me and I've never worked a day on the staff of any television series, but I am a real Star Trek fan who's watched a lot of television since I was a little kid. I figure I've averaged six hours a day.
And you're sort of a wunderkind, so you really aren't even old enough to have seen as much TV as me.
So I'm clearly qualified to tell you how to do your job.
Pay attention, dummy. This is important
You obliterated an entire Universe, Space-Time Continuum, and Compendium of Canon, and brought back Spock from the ether. But, here's the thing:
Whatever CBS is paying you, it's not worth it.
Read a few pages of the TrekBBS, then cash your check, and run away.
While you still have time.
If you choose to remain, it's <throat slash sound> Kobayashi Maru for you. You may go on to bigger and better things, you might become rich beyond the dreams of avarice, but you'll never be able to live with yourself, because for the rest of your days and beyond we'll whine and point to the spot on the (limited edition) action figure where you did the bad touch to our beloved Trek.
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Me too. I have some Star Wars figures (Vader, Stormtroopers, Imperial Officer, Rebel soldiers) and a warrior xenomorph from ALIENS. (Guess who ends up on the short end of that stick? ) 
By the sceptor wielding Bishops of the Holy House of G-Rod! By the statue of the Vulcan philosopher, Surak! By the Blood of the fans who have been martyred in the righteous cause of continuity and the sacraments of canon!
We, the chosen ones who have flocked to the fanfilms to seek succor and comfort in the truth of Trek that only the unofficial understand are now faced with your executivity; you, who are disguised in official habit and who are bathed in heresy, and ignorance of IDIC; you, who would truncate the divine "phweet" of phasers for the unTrekly sound of "pew pew" blasters from the noon day devil that is Star Wars! We, G-Rod's hand picked disciples, hereby serve you notice!
Your unholy leader, Abrams, has already perverted the sacred teachings of G-Rod with the blasphemies of G-Luc, the pretender to all that is intellectual and good, who seeks to contort young minds with the farcical fantasies of knights, princesses, and bad feelings about things! And now, your unholy leader has shown his true colors, and taken up mantle to bald-face corrupt the masses with the hell-spawned curse that is Star Wars!
You, who have been charged by the papal pontiffs at CBS to bring the starving chosen ones the holy words "Space-The Final Frontier" after having ascended from your fiery pit; You, who would speak these words as if they were a curse from your lips! You, who would ruin all because we only know your kind too well....
You better not fuck this up! In so doing, you will be cast from the utopian paradise we seek that was promised by almighty G-Rod from time immemorial (well...since 1966)! If you deliver not unto us the history as established in canon by G-Rod; if you instead ply us with your fun and spectacle that has no place in the holy realm of Star Trek; if you deliver to us the slightest serving that is unworthy of the sacred name of Star Trek....
We will stink eye upon thee until thy guts crawl like serpents in your walking carcass! We will rage with the piousness of the most ordained nerds! The Internet shall be our voice, to scream unto the masses the injustices and humiliations we have endured all too often! We shall all-cap until our CPU's are hoarse! You will slapped in the face with the Vulcan hand salute until you bleed green from every pore and orifice! We will impale and brand thee with red hot lirpas and lash thee with freshly barbed ahn-woons!
You have been warned! We are watching you! Do not make us go medieval Klingon on your ass!
Have a nice day.
Martok, pure brilliance. I'm in awe!!!! How long did it take you such a succinct, succulent, and superb diatribe?
SURPRISE TWIST, SHYAMALAN-STYLE!
"Heh, just kidding, Mr. K! I'm actually one of the good ones! I've got my head screwed on right and I know you're gonna do a fine job with this here new Trek series here.
"But here's the thing: some of my fellow fans are dicks. They doubt you. Some might even think you're something of a hack who gets jobs like this more for having gone to the right school with families of the right pedigree than anything else. I've heard the rumblings, you know. I've seen what we call out here in Fan-land THE BUTTHURT.
"When you run into these people, here's how you deal with them. Just think of me as your Fan-sultant, okay? I'll break it down for you.
"First: just reel off a list of all the hit television shows you've worked on. Like, say, Hawaii Five-O or Scorpion or Transformers Prime... although, I guess those might not be the best examples, maybe. Uhhh... Fringe? Not a hit per se but like, a cult hit? At any rate it didn't suck. At least... well, the first season didn't.
"Alias? Alias was pretty badass, helped launch Garner's career... but also, that's going back more than a decade, maybe not a good sign...
"TV movies, maybe? Locke and Key? No?
"Huh. Okay tell you what, we'll come back to that one.
"The second shall be first: BAM! Hit 'em with your big screen resume, baby. You are the Big Swinging Dick of Tinseltown and none of these no-account punks had better forget it. Eagle Eye, baby! ... No wait, nobody's heard of that one. Cowboys and Aliens, motherfuhh-- uh, okay, maybe no. I guess Ender's Game didn't exactly set the world on fire... Amazing Spider-Man 2? Granted everyone hates that one, but you can tell them it made cheddar anyway, worked for Lucas. Well, okay, maybe not. Uhhh... Now You See Me?
"Oh, OH! I've got it. The Proposal.
"BAMMM son! Not a blockbuster but that's an indelible indie hit with mucho art-house cred right there, the hallucinatory quest of an Australian gunslinger to bring his brother's band of vicious bandits to justice, featuring a profoundly morally-complex pioneer setting and a memorable guest turn by John Hurt, who, he's got like this great skeevy schtick going on where he keeps trying to bond with the hero like "We are white men, sir!" and Guy Pearce's character is totally unimpressed and they have this cat-and-mouse game going on which...
"Oh, hang on, no. That's The Proposition. What was your thing?
"[Looks up The Proposal.] Oh. Oh dear.
"Tell you what, we'll come back to that one, too.
"Okay. Plan C. [Rubs temples and squints] Remind them... remind them that you helped mastermind the Star Trek reboots.
"Now, okay, stay with me here. Granted this is going to be a bit of a tougher sell because with these guys it's like the primary reason your name on the project is controversial at all. So here's what you do. Tell them you're proud of those movies as being well-told stories in the spirit of Trek; gun through this quickly because they're going to argue with you about it and that's going to get complicated. The main things to hit after that are BAMMM! the box office receipts and BOOOMMM! the aggregator scores. Just one-two them with that sh*t: lather, rinse, repeat.
"Not gonna lie to you, that works pretty much never, but eventually people will get bored enough with it to walk away and you can call that a win.
"Bit time-consuming for your purposes, though, huh?
"Okay, no worries, the Fan-sultant's got you covered. Tell you what, Plan D: just call them a bunch of virgin nerds who live in their moms' basements. Simple, elegant, classic. There's no need to reinvent the wheel here.
"Anyway, Mr. Kurtzman. Alex Kurtzman. Alex. The K-Man. The Kurtzmanator. It's been a slice working with you. Big fan, love you, love your lifestyle, totally looking forward to Torrenting... uh, I mean "paying for"
that new series, my man. Don't let a one of these nerds out here mess with you. You're gonna knock this one out of the park!"Yours truly,
"The Fan-sultant"
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Well zinged.
***EDIT: Praiseworthy entreaties that only a select few can fully grasp and appreciate***
You have been warned! We are watching you! Do not make us go medieval Klingon on your ass!
Have a nice day.
Martok, pure brilliance. I'm in awe!!!! How long did it take you such a succinct, succulent, and superb diatribe?
Thank you, Drone.
I think I might have written this up in about an hour (a small but decent chunk because of self-proofreading and editing.)
Originally, it was just going to say: "Hi and bye."
That, alone, took about 45 minutes to concoct and chisel out. Then, trying to be as objective as possible, and not overly proud of it, I was looking at them from all the angles. I thought those three words would've said everything I wanted to say, but, imagining for a moment that I was an outsider to my own musings, I realized it needed something just a bit more charitable. It was one of the few times where I needed to do some hand holding in order to ensure that those three words (which is all anyone should need from me) struck with maximum impact. But I felt that it needed a just a little bit more substance beyond that. So I spent the next 15 minutes after hammering out those words which I deigned to explain (like an impatient teacher to an inattentive child) those feelings which shouldn't needn't to haven't been not said.
That said, there have been others here who are far more eloquent that I, for whom a laying down of their passionate je ne sais quoi, the innermost mise en scenes of their minds which prove worthy of their individual noms de guerre.
To them, I tip my hat, and say: Longue vie et prospérité. La paix et la longue durée de vie. Un croissant sur moi.
But now, I shall yield the floor, for I find I am getting too full of myself. (Hell, I'm German/Irish, not French.)
* wipes away single manly tear *
In moments like these I'm reminded of the immortal words of De Gaulle: Apportez-moi une chaussure avec un peu de fromage, car je tiens à masser votre grand-mère. I salute you, sir.
BigJake said:
Seulement si vous vous engagez à respecter ma grand-mère dans la matinée! I salute you, sir!
Gaaahhhh!!! Curse you, Google Translate!
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