** I guess I should preface this post with some attempt at sound reasoning… at least as sound as possible. I like taking existing properties of known fiction and modify them with an angle that embodies some aspect of the new Trek film that is currently up for discussion – hence my previous posts of Hamlet and Julius Caesar reworking the Shatner debate. It makes things just a little different from your normal rant. The following (as did my previous post) uses lines and characterizations from Apocalypse Now to comment on the recent announcement of the delayed release for Trek XI. It assumes the (hopefully humorous) scenario of Abrams as a Kurtzian leader who with his 150 M budget has lost his mind and we as fans are now that much further down the river from witnessing his genius. And we are given the mission to find out what went wrong… Again, I apologize for not making this clearer on the other post, I just wanted the mods to know that there was at least a hint of method to my madness. 
**
My mom’s basement...shit. I'm only in my mom’s basement. Every time, I think I'm gonna wake up back in the theater. When I was home after Nemesis, it was worse. I'd wake up and there'd be nothing. I hardly said a word to my Trek friends until I said yes to a permanent ban. When I was here, I wanted to be watching Trek. When I was watching Trek...all I could think of was getting back onto the BBS. I'm here several months now. Waiting for a movie. Getting softer. Every minute I stay in this room, I get weaker. And every minute Orci denies rumors...he gets stronger. Each time I looked around...the walls moved in a little tighter. Everyone gets everything he wants. I wanted a Trek movie. And for my sins, they gave me one. Brought it up to me like room service. It was a real choice Trek movie. And when it was over, I'd never want another. A year and five months away and hundreds of miles up 5555 Melrose that snaked through the internet like a circuit cable...plugged straight into Abrams. It was no accident that I got to be the caretaker of JJ Abrams’ vision, any more that being back in mom’s basement was an accident. There was no way to tell his story without telling my own. And if his story is really a confession, then so is mine. Shit. Calling a man a geek in this place was like handing out speeding tickets at the Indy 500. I took his vision. What the hell else was I gonna do? But I really didn't know what I'd do when I actually saw it.
**My mom’s basement...shit. I'm only in my mom’s basement. Every time, I think I'm gonna wake up back in the theater. When I was home after Nemesis, it was worse. I'd wake up and there'd be nothing. I hardly said a word to my Trek friends until I said yes to a permanent ban. When I was here, I wanted to be watching Trek. When I was watching Trek...all I could think of was getting back onto the BBS. I'm here several months now. Waiting for a movie. Getting softer. Every minute I stay in this room, I get weaker. And every minute Orci denies rumors...he gets stronger. Each time I looked around...the walls moved in a little tighter. Everyone gets everything he wants. I wanted a Trek movie. And for my sins, they gave me one. Brought it up to me like room service. It was a real choice Trek movie. And when it was over, I'd never want another. A year and five months away and hundreds of miles up 5555 Melrose that snaked through the internet like a circuit cable...plugged straight into Abrams. It was no accident that I got to be the caretaker of JJ Abrams’ vision, any more that being back in mom’s basement was an accident. There was no way to tell his story without telling my own. And if his story is really a confession, then so is mine. Shit. Calling a man a geek in this place was like handing out speeding tickets at the Indy 500. I took his vision. What the hell else was I gonna do? But I really didn't know what I'd do when I actually saw it.
Those were the days...
Son of son of a 
