The old Kirk vs. Picard debate has gone on for as long as Riker's had a beard. It's been a good fifty years or so but now I'm ready to toss my hat into the ring. When it comes to the idea of who's a better Captain, I take into consideration how I would fare underneath their command. It's a good thing to note that James T. Kirk actively spends time with his crewmen, worries about their wellbeing, mourns their deaths, and abstains from killing as much as he possibly can. While he has some minor annoyances, as the Captain of a starship, it seems as if he sees his crew as a group of equals he's responsible for. It takes seven seasons just for Picard to play a game of poker with anyone. Not to say that Picard is a bad Captain, he's a brilliant delegator and a charming man, but TNG shows us that the only way to get promoted on Picard's Enterprise is to be okay with sending your men off to die. If Riker wasn't there to be as active in the crew's social lives, Picard wouldn't have that connecting glue between himself and his men. It's almost a reverse of Spock and Kirk's positions(Spock being the much more distant number one allows him to do things Kirk couldn't dream of doing without creating tension). I remember hearing about how Gene Roddenberry didn't like Picard and how he'd rather have Riker be the ship's Captain but the thing is, Riker wouldn't be a good Captain. In fact, Picard's ability to separate him from the others is what saved his crew time and time again. Still, I'd rather have someone who'd mourn me if I died so, in the debate over who's the best Captain, I'd have to say Kirk just might win out.

Now, here's the cincher. What if we had to compare them as men, position of power be damned? As we all know, Kirk's main weakness is how easily he's pulled away from his mission by the sight of a woman. I think there was something genuinely wrong with Gene Roddenberry's brain in that he'd see a woman and immediately feel like they had put him under a spell that tears his mind apart. Like some kind of Lovecraft thing but he has an erection the whole time. I think a lot of Gene's personality is baked into Kirk and this includes a lot of his weird quirks. The smarminess, the ego. Jim Kirk is quite intelligent when it comes to strategy, leadership, breaking through the bullshit, but all of that is paired with a personality that can override any of these at any point in time. That's when Picard truly shines. If they ever made a man who was the human equivalent of a sleeve of saltines, I'd like to think he'd have Picard's mannerisms. That is to say, the less cavalier, less romantic, less idealistic, man that he is in turn becomes his greatest strength. We all know Kirk wouldn't survive half the things Picard lived through- his Cardassian torture, Assimilation, the loss of his loved ones. As a person, there's a resilience found in who he is. Temptation was never even on the table, neither is anger or vengeance. The building blocks that make up a good Captain are different from those that make a good Starfleet officer and a good vision of humanity's future. A Captain's hands must get dirty while Picard's remain as clean cut as his uniform.

I don't think many books quite predicted the modern conceptions of A.I. more than Dreamships by Melissa Scott. A deeply well-thought novel full of world-building so dense, I actually expected it to be a part of a series(it's not). The story essentially takes place in a far-off future, where humans have colonized many planets and created their own, newer, problems. The age-old ones still exist, of course. There's a rather interesting class system at play but that never fully is brought to the forefront. No, the story of Dreamships is about A.I. how the evolution of this tool could never compare to the existence of humankind.

Dreampeace is an organization that sees A.I. as a new slave-class made to serve humanity and they want to put a stop to it. Now, Dreampeace has spent years building their arguments to the point that even bringing up the idea of A.I. tends to put a damper on everything. They hack machines in order to dispense their pamphlets, they protest, they do everything for what they think is right- even as the class discrepancies and rights of their fellow humans remain ignored. Our main character, Jian, finds herself on neither end of the argument, preferring to keep her head down and do her work. But, when an experimental ship, The Byron is set for her to pilot(the way piloting in this novel works is fantastic, by the way) she and her two companions are met with Manfred, the ship's A.I.

Throughout the story, they become accustomed to Manfred, and all the new features it holds. The novel then goes back and fourth over whether or not Manfred is reacting as a human would or is simply programmed in order to act like he is. In the end, the A.I. is not put to the test, no, but once things become more dire, the puppet strings begin to show. The true understanding of something to be alive, consciously, as an intelligent lifeform, is the ability to absorb and react to the reality around you. Man-made concepts seem to be the only thing A.I. are capable of understanding. It can absorb a million images of a flower from the internet, read every article on them and their habits, and yet they can do nothing at all to affect or understand the reality of what a flower is and how it grows. Just an influx of information with no reason or skills.

I really need to get around to reading all of the Tex Murphy novels. As of today, I've only read the one(Pandora) twice. Call me cheap, I've had The Poisoned Pawn on my watchlist for ages just waiting for the day where it's price will go down. Beyond that, I enjoy watching through the Tex Murphy games(they only recently arrived on Steam and I'm not particularly trusting of GOG's compatibility). Besides the old "Making of" documentary which I spent forever rewatching like it was comfort food on my more downer days and the radio drama they put up on youtube, my experience with Tex are limited but my enjoyment is expansive. Tex Murphy is an interesting story in that when it started out, it was nothing more than a joke. Starring our titular detective, the series began with a young and coming Tex trying out his hand at P.I. work and finding himself in over his head. Filled with tons of goofiness, the series never quite takes itself 100% seriously although, in recent years, it's started to settle into something larger than itself. As of me writing this, there are six games(one being a remake of the first...with a twist), and five novels. The novels typically cover the events of the games...except one. It seems as though that one kernel of Tex will probably live on in novel form as the newest novel covers a game not yet made.

That said, Tex Murphy's world exists in a post-apocalyptical cyberpunk dystopia that isn't the lamest thing I've ever seen(which is such a feat since I absolutely loathe the cyberpunk genre). Essentially after the bombs dropped in WWIII(in the 90's), they live in a sort of split-off timeline from our own where the world has radiated beyond the point of recognition. Yet, still, mankind got back up, dusted itself off, and kept going. Their world actually doesn't drag through all the angst and torment that you would see in games like Fallout. Instead, life just sort of carried on. You can still see the newest Die Hard movie, you can still go to Kmart(wow what a timeline that must be), and you can still see all of humanity's petty little issues carry on even in the ruins of a highly radiated world. Tex also introduces the concept of Mutants and Norms(those who have been radiated and malformed by the bombs and those who haven't) and that creates a new system of sociopolitical interest. After all, they've done away with racism and sexism(at least, on the page) yet humans are still finding ways to create new systems of power in which to operate. That doesn't even go into the Holograms. Holograms come much later. Still, the issue with a story like Tex is that it's so expansive and huge that having your choices "matter" starts to fray a bit at the edges. A good example of this is the character of Archie Ellis. He's introduced in Pandora and then later killed off if you don't perform the correct actions. Archie was a creator favorite but they firmly stated his death was canon, even so much as to put it in the novelization. Then came The Tesla Effect, a later game, and Archie is back, fully alive to help again. It's mind-boggling just how much has been retconned or redone over the years so, I suppose when it comes to this series, my best offer is...good luck?

One day I'll cover the novels on this page but, for now, I'll leave you with this.

Talented writer, Jane Killick has had her fair share of experience with Red Dwarf from giving on-set interviews to helping pen the Red Dwarf Smegazine. While I haven't quite managed to pick up one of her original novels, I did get my hands on her Red Dwarf companion and I have quite a bit to say.

First of all, it runs very cheap(typically between $6-$15, US) and was published in 2012 so it only covers the first ten seasons, missing episodes, and the movie that never was. That said, this is a fantastic comprehensive guide to all things Red Dwarf, each section is divided by episode so you get a small summary of what happens as a refresher before diving into all the behind-the-scenes tid-bits. The whole thing is prefaced by the story of how Red Dwarf even came to be(the concept of stepping out of the bounds of your typical sitcom were practically sacrilege at time) including casting and script choices.

Now, the book isn't made to be read through in one sitting, for some reason I found myself getting incredibly bored doing this, but it is nice in small amounts especially during a rewatch. If it doesn't outright answer any lingering questions you may have on the series, I don't know what will.

So, in 1989, the two-bodied entity called Grant Naylor decided to publish a series of novels based off of their hit TV show, Red Dwarf. These novels have been something of a point of contention for me because they're both my preferred way to 'rewatch' a lot of the series but, doing this, you'll soon find that they start to veer off the course of the show(for better or worse). I think a lot of the comedy bits are punchier in novel form, I still find myself laughing at loud at a lot of the way lines are delivered but also you get the pleasure(or displeasure) of seeing into their minds. Rimmer and Lister's inner monologues start to approach Peep Show territory, and fast, which is always a delight to see. That said, there are particular additions or changes between the show and the novels. The novels actually can get raunchier and aren't held to the limitations of British broadcasting. This both lends to the highest highs and the lowest lows of each book so I'm just going to run through the first two in order to give you an idea of what I'm talking about.

INFINITY WELCOMES CAREFUL DRIVERS oddly starts before Lister even steps foot on the ship, chronicling his post-breakup stranding on Mimas and all the events that lead up to him taking up a job aboard Red Dwarf. Rimmer's introduction actually didn't sit right with me for various reasons(getting twisted into a pretzel at a robot-brothel) but I'll suck it up for now. By the time the book really gets going(and it does take a while to set everything up- this version of Red Dwarf actually has an insane amount of worldbuilding to it) it knows what it's about and begins to place every building block to the events that lead up to the entire crew(besides Lister) being wiped out. After that, the book almost faithfully follows the show, cutting out entire episodes while also stuffing the pre-existing ones full of more context. The book is broken up into three parts- the first being a sort of prologue to the show, the second is a quick run through of the first two seasons, the second is suddenly where the story begins to veer off course and into something...different.

Now, another huge change between the show and the novels is that these tend to take the show down deeper under the surface. Danger suddenly feels dangerous, the stakes feel stake-ier, and there's plenty of existentialism to go around. The characters think about the implications of having someone who was invented to be a servant or how much harder it is to face reality than live in a delusion. Rimmer's psyche is like a bear trap- set and open, waiting for you to reach your hand inside. It's all so well-executed, you start to realize these things exist as their own stand-alone thing. You don't have to watch the show in order to read these novels, in fact, they exist in a universe parallel but never quite the same.

That said, BETTER THAN LIFE, the second novel to this series, really knows how to take everything from the previous novel and start running. Better Than Life has to be, weirdly, one of the most beautiful pieces of Sci-fi I've ever read(and I mean on the same level as Canticle for Lebowitz at times). When it isn't busy trying to tell dick jokes, it stops and takes in the world for what it is- rushing forward with the idea that doom doesn't really exist. Just small pockets of terrible awful things. There is no absolute doom we are headed down because, like nature, we too spring forward undefeated. That said, the first section of this book can become a bit of a slog. The entire first part(it's broken up into four this time) covers the guy's fight to escape the Better Than Life game, something that the show only spent one episode on and then immediately left. The books, however, built up to this all the way from the beginning, introducing BTL as almost a drug(similar to Tek in Tekwar) which makes the lengths in which they have to go in order to leave the simulation more plausible. Afterwards, the book follows original plotlines- the kind of stuff that would have most Trekkies spinning in their seats- including one where Lister finally makes his way back to Earth. No, not the Earth he knew, but the Earth that is. Really, the whole back half of the book is an exercise in resurrecting something hopeful and true out of the most cynical of circumstances. The book ends in a way that almost makes you want that to be the end. It's not, and we'll get to those books(more miserably) later.

For now, though, I highly recommend both these Red Dwarf novels. They were good companions for me during a very stressful time in my life. Hopefully, they'll do the same for you.

I've been on a PS2 kick recently and accidentally happened upon this unheard of title. Crimson Sea 2 is sort of a jrpg mixed with a third-person shooter mixed with Devil May Cry where you defeat a large mass of enemies within a set time limit.

That's sort of it. The game has it's own story involving fighting back an alien threat that uses humanoids(and humans alike) in order to increase their numbers but that all feels like set-dressing. Crimson Sea 2, more than anything is just a fun Sci-fi action game where you sit back, put on some Powerwolf, and start blasting.

Arthur C. Clarke isn't a new face to the world of scifi, his mind creating the world of 2001: A Space Odyssey, Johnny Mnemonic, and Sands of Mars. However, it was years before I ever heard of this novel, something mentioned off-hand as inspiration for a game I love, so I decided to dive and experience it for myself.

You see, I enjoy finding out the source of ideas creators have and following them to their origination. At times, I'll find a lot of my searching has brought me to a place of disappointment(William Gibson) and other times, I'll find something magnificent(A Canticle For Lebowitz). Childhood's End, however, has placed me in an odd middle-place between the two.

A story told in three parts(not unlike Space Odyssey), Childhood's End takes place right as we have landed on the moon in the distant future of 2001. A note; this book was written in the 1950's and is written from the mind of a man who never believed we would land on the moon, nor be able to explore space until he saw it with his own eyes. In fact, the novel, itself, is almost a fear of his that we would never be able to, as human beings, advance far enough to make it outside our own planet.

That said, the story begins when Earth is visited by outside forces, their ship's hovering above us not as a threat but in order to observe. From here, they offer humanity a deal; that they will abolish all want, all need, that the planet carries. In exchange, we are to follow their laws to the letter. At first, you may think this is essentially servitude and yet their laws are more about preservation- no sexism, no racism, no cruelty toward animals- the people of Earth must stop destroying that around them and, instead, focus on bettering themselves. Essentially, everyone agrees. Mostly. There are some issues with dissidents but nothing that isn't quickly taken care of in a humane manner. It seems that, for all intents and purposes, these new 'rulers' who seem to bristle at the idea of being referred to as 'rulers' do not mean us any harm.

That is, except for one thing.

They refuse to reveal their face.

It is up to our first protagonist to communicate between Earth and the alien 'leader'(who seems more like a project coordinator) in order to make sure humanity is on the right track.

Now, I won't divulge the entire novel, but there are time skips and reveals throughout that build toward the mystery of who these aliens are and what they intend to do. Time passes, there's a rather large time skip in that everyone who was alive when the aliens arrived are now long gone. Now, we get our first look at humanity as it exists purely under the new rule.

From here, we get some of Arthur's...issues primarily concerning sex and race. While his ideas are progressive even today, his execution of them are bogged down by his own prejudices. While this doesn't corrupt to the novel by any means, it's something I should point out as a pervasive issue that can be agreed upon as we move on.

From here, we get the perspective of our second protagonist, a man who wants to know more about these aliens. They have now fully revealed themselves only to these fresh eyes and yet remain a mystery. His story is interesting in that it begins halfway through, he sets off to stowaway and find out, exactly, the true nature of these people. We then switch off to our final protagonist, watch his story unfold, and then return back to our second who carries us to our ending.

The third section, oddly, became the most compelling for me. It's a simple little story of a simple little family who wanted a simple little life. Wanting to abstain from the ever-guiding hand of their rulers, this family sets off to live in a small part of the world where people are allowed to live their lives as humanity did before. From here, we begin to see the end result of what our visitors have given us. The end of this section gripped me. The imagery wrapping my mind in this feeling of finality that I don't think I've experienced from a book before. A brilliant ending, and one that I still carry with me to this day.

Then, the book sort of...continues. Sitting us down and explaining everything. I think Arthur C. Clarke wanted to make sure all his ideas were being conveyed properly and had no other place to put them, but, it just feels wholly unnecessary. Nothing in the epilogue provides us with crucial information and only serves to undermine it's own ending.

If you decide to pick up this book, and I highly recommend it(it was one of the main inspirations for Xenogears, of all things), just skip the epilogue entirely.

Between movies, books, and videogames, it seems as if adaptations can hurt or help a story. Stephen King's stories are more preferable to me in a made-for-tv format. The movie adaptation of Solaris doesn't carry the nauseating racism that the book does. Johnny Mnemonic becomes more moronic on the page. So, when it comes to Roadside Picnic, it seems as though the videogame adaptation might have won out.

Roadside Picnic, as a novel, takes place after humanity has been visited by aliens(a common premise, I know) and yet the difference, here, is that they didn't communicate at all. In fact, they just sort of stuck around for a bit, used Earth as their newest dumping ground, and left. That's about the extent we'll ever get on these alien visitors and that's all you need.

*There's actually a forward by Ursula K. Le Guin that goes on and on as if this is the only thing that happens in the story which leads me to believe she never even read the damn thing*

The trash left behind is so dangerous, so caustic, that any living thing that gets even close to these designated 'zones' may experience a horrific and unexplainable death. Sealed off by the government, they remain guarded in order to keep people out. However, companies have their eye on that technology, those materials, and have decided to employ random civilians(Stalkers) to go scavenging for something worth it's weight in gold. From there, we get our main character, Red, a Stalker who's simple job becomes a staple of his identity.

It's in his hands that the story tends to fail. Red's slow slip into madness over his 'career choice' lends itself to be the most compelling part of the book. He becomes the best of the best at his job despite the health problems it causes both him and his daughter. It's a rough job and as time goes on, Red outlives several 'generations'(A Stalker's career and lifespan is always cut short) of other stalkers. Young men who wandered over in order to make a killing doing dangerous work. It's as if they assume it would be like working an oil rig but, The Zone is more akin to surviving a battlefield. Over time, Red becomes more sick, both physically and mentally. He can barely function as a human in everyday society yet he's still the best of the best when it comes to surviving The Zone.

The story seems to borrow it's inspiration from industry work- long dangerous hours that result in a career that keeps bread on the table but explicitly runs it's workers through a meatgrinder in order to do it. Red only seems to grow worse over time, his work growing into an obsession that will get him nowhere. It's an interesting character study although I find that Red is just lacking in anything that could make me care in the first place. When the story begins, I already hate the guy so, as he becomes more and more tormented by the soul-crushing work around him, I'm...not particularly affected by it.

The world is also written in a perspective that is so male, it's nearly vomit inducing. While a male-centered world isn't always the worst thing that could happen to a story(Dragonball Z and Venture Bros seemed to pull it off somehow) it's particularly egregious when the writers start dragging out the megabrothels or the main character starts referring to himself as his wife's "master".

Also, oddly, the book doesn't spend near as much time in The Zone as you'd expect which is a huge bummer for me because it's the most interesting part of the story!

I know this book is beloved but, I feel it's concept was much better executed by it's videogame adaptation. Actually, I think the influx of love it's now receiving is purely due to that videogame adaptation. That said, I don't want to deter anyone from reading this, I feel the story is worth a read-through although the translation might be a bit dry. Just go into it knowing you're mostly going to get Red in his downtime than in his zone-time.

With a large expanse of novels for every single kind of fan out there, Star Trek usually has something to offer. Personally, I've only gone through TNG or DS9 novels and find that DS9 seems to be suited to a storytelling format. No offense to TNG, it's characters are just not enough to carry the weight of a proper novel(or film, for that matter). There were many times where I'd be truly exhausted by my daily life only to find comfort within these pages so I hope that you take my recommendations to heart.

The Search

Typically, the novelization of something that already exists(as in, not an original idea but is trying to put what's on screen to the written word) wastes your time and you always come out the other end feeling like you've gained nothing from the experience. The Search actually spends it's time adding more meat to the episode, exploring character motivations, and adding small moments that feel so naturally right. It's on the smaller side of these novels but, by far, it's one of the top dogs. Bonus points for Sisko's coffee monologue.

The Big Game

Virtually a filler episode. It's a murder mystery casino night. If you picture that in your mind and plant it on Deep Space Nine, you can pretty much tell how this is all going to turn out. Funnily enough, this novel has cameos in it like crazy. It's never enough to be satisfactory(none of them actually do anything of note) but it does add to that feeling that this is a world that continues to go on long after the credits rolled. Good fun.

A Stitch In Time

I actually own a physical copy of this one which makes it an invaluable collector's item. However, the book, itself, feels like a huge letdown. I know Andrew Robinson really loved writing it because there's so much love put into this novel and yet everything about it feels...underwhelming. The novel is specifically about Garak attempting to explain everything to Bashir in a "letter" some time after the series finale. The thing is, if any of this is a lie, it's certainly not an entertaining one. Nothing about his tales feel legitimate to the series and I'd disregard it almost entirely if it wasn't for the fact that the actor and all subsequent (Garak-centric)books that came later reference it constantly.

Trial By Error

By far this is the best Star Trek novel I've read. I think this one gets forgotten easily because it doesn't try to be edgy or cool, it's essentially just another episode of the show that fits perfectly into canon. There's a ship that seems to be more than it seems, shapeshifting, copying everything it sees- even down to actions. After blowing up a Klingon vessel, it locks onto Jake's ship during a date and he ends up chased through the wormhole. Sisko and O'Brien both take up the opportunity to look for him and decode this new threat. Meanwhile, Kira's plotline in this book is so good...I was going through essentially the same thing at the time so reading her suffering through her job on my lunch break while I suffered through mine was a lifesaver. The ending of the book is one of the most Star Trek endings I've ever seen and watching Sisko teach Jake how to drive is a great big cherry on top. Best of the best.

Bloodletter

This book actually made me realize that we don't really see much of Kira's past catch up to her. Sure, we get episodes where she has to deal with her past as a freedom fighter vs. her current role and episodes that deal with people she used to fight alongside back in the day. What we don't typically get is a story where we watch her toe the line between vigilante and terrorist. Bloodletter delivers on two fronts- it gives Kira a fantastic story to work with and it brings more life to their universe as a whole. There's a point in the novel in which they explain the Cardassian caste system and how they have different measurement systems that correlate to their jobs. There's even an encounter Bashir has with The Prophets in which he must not only explain himself(in circumstance) but also explain himself(in concept). A fantastic piece that adds to an already robust world.