The Nobility of Faith and The Wonderful Lamp

Aladdin (Arabic: علاء الدين‎‎, Alāʼ ad-Dīn), is a poor and lazy boy living in China with His Mother in Aladdin and The Wonderful Lamp. 

A Sorcerer pretends to be His Uncle to get him to enter A Cave and retrieve A Lamp, but Aladdin won't give The Lamp to him and asks to be helped out of The Cave first. 

The Sorcerer leaves him there, but Aladdin discovers The Genie of The Ring and Wishes to Go Home. 

Afterwards, he discovers The Genie of The Lamp. 

He falls in love with The Princess Badroulbadour upon seeing her, and sets out to marry her.

Aladdin's name means "Nobility of Faith" or "Nobility of Religion", and is one of many names ending with ad-Din.

The original story of Aladdin is a Middle-Eastern folk tale [but it TAKES PLACE, in the Muslim Regions of China.] 

It concerns an impoverished young ne'er-do-well named Aladdin, in a Chinese city, who is recruited by A Sorcerer from the Maghreb (who passes himself off as the brother of Aladdin's late father [Sinestro is The Evil Uncle.]) to retrieve a wonderful oil lamp from a booby-trapped magic cave. 

After The Sorcerer attempts to double-cross him, Aladdin finds himself Trapped in The Cave — Facing Mirror-Images that are •not• His Own.... [ Just kidding ;-j ]

Fortunately, Aladdin retains A Magic Ring lent to him by The Sorcerer [because The Sorcerer’s plan needs for him to impersonate A Prince from a foreign land, and dress him in his own fine clothes and jewelry — because The Sorcerer has either forgotten or DOES NOT KNOW that The Ring is enchanted and contains a Djinn of a lower order than The Djinn of The Lamp, which he wants Aladdin to get FOR him (because it’s too dangerous and narrow for him to go in and get for him self — plus, the fact that he is unworthy to claim it or wield it and Aladdin isn’t.) ]

When he rubs his hands in despair, he inadvertently rubs The Rng, and a djinni appears, who takes him home to His Mother.  [ Just like Dorothy’s Ruby Slippers. ]

Aladdin is still carrying The Lamp, and when his mother tries to clean it [thinking it valuable and hoping to SELL it], a SECOND, far more powerful djinni appears, who is bound to do the bidding of The Person HOLDING The Lamp. [ Which SHOULD therefore be Aladdin’s MOTHER — •she• rubbed it. So, if this aspect  of The Story exists to teach and must be meant to be telling us something, which it absolutely IS, we can only assume she dropped it and/or fainted away and collapsed at the shock of the [ VERY EVIL ] Djinn manifesting in front of her, unexpectedly — which means that The Mother of Aladdin does NOT have The Ability to Overcome Great Fear. ]

With the aid of The Djinni of The Lamp, Aladdin becomes Rich and Powerful [ and a Test Pilot for Ferris Air ] and marries princess Badroulbadour, The Emperor's Daughter [ As well as running the company on behalf of Her Father, Carol Ferris is also The Queen-Empress of The Zammarons, The Guardians of The FEMALE Half of The Universe. ]. The Djinni builds Aladdin a wonderful Palace - far more magnificent than that of The Emperor himself [ Oa. Okay, that part is kind of a stretch.... ]

The Sorcerer returns and is able to get his hands on Theamp by tricking Aladdin's wife [ Aladdin’s widowed Mother in the English pantomime tradition — Widow Twanky, a Washer-Woman  ]who is unaware of The Lamp's importance, by offering to exchange "new lamps for old". [ This is teaching Young People (girls, especially) that dirty old object can be far more valuable and useful than shiny new ones [ that usually cost money. ]]

He orders The Djinni of The Lamp to take The Palace to His Home in The Maghreb. [ The Anti-Matter Universe of Qward...? ]

Fortunately, Aladdin retains The Magic Ring [ which his fake-imposter Evil Uncle either doesn’t KNOW about, still, or no longer cares, now that HE has something Better and More Powerful — several characters in Lord of The Rings speak of casting aside or throwing away The Ring as a cause of all their trouble and woe, letting it fall by the wayside on the side of The Road, which is more or less what DID happen to it already when it betrayed Isildur and ended up being found by Cain/Smeagol and His Brother Abel/Dengol, and this is almost exactly what he DOES with it on his island in a dark pool under The Mountain — he loves and worships The Ring and yet keeps it in a hole in the ground and never puts it on or wears it (because he’s •obviously• unworthy of it) and so he has forgotten What it Does [if he ever knew], making it invisible to The Eye of Sauron, while it remains unbound the will and the living mind of any owner that actually puts it on and uses it [ Bilbo does, Frodo does, Sam doesn’t. ] and is able to summon The Lesser Djinni. 

Although The Djinni of The Ring cannot •directly• undo any of the magic of The Djinni of The Lamp, he is able to •transport• Aladdin to Maghreb, and help him recover His Wife and The Lamp and defeat The Sorcerer. [ So, The Ring will open The Way and provide you with The Means to fulfill your wishes, unlike The Lantern, She isn’t going to do it all FOR you — She creates The Opportunity and supplies you with everything you are going to need to Work Your Will, but it’s up to YOU to Do The Work needed to get it to happen — which is why it’s limited by the full potency and commitment of your own Willpower, but otherwise ONLY by that — YOU have to MAKE THE EFFORT, and YOU need to DO Things to for things to order themselves in your way so as to get What You Want : 

That’s It. Simple as That.

CRACKÈD

[Interrogation room]

(Madred is having an egg for his meal) 

Gul Madred:  

Oh, you're awake. 

Have something to eat. 

I insist.  Boiled taspar egg. 

It's a delicacy I'm happy to share with you. 

(Madred gives Picard a knife to slice the top off the very large egg, but this one isn't boiled. The contents are still alive and moving. Picard downs it in one) 

Gul Madred: 

Wonderful. Wonderful. 

I Like You, Human. 

Most people become ill 

at the sight of live taspar. 

I remember the first time 

I ate a live taspar.

 

I was six years old 

and living on The Streets of Lakat. 

There was a band of children, 

four, five, six years old, 

some even smaller, desperately Trying to Survive. 

We were thin, scrawny little animals, 

constantly hungry, always cold. 

We slept together in doorways, 

like packs of wild gettles, 

for warmth. 

Once, I found A Nest. 

Taspars had mated and built a nest 

in the eave of a burnt-out building 

and I found three eggs in it. 

It was like finding Treasure. 

I cracked one open on the spot and ate it, 

very much as you just did. 

I planned to save the other two. 

They would keep me Alive 

for another week. 

But of course, 

an older boy saw them 

and wanted them, 

and he got them. 

But he had to 

break my arm to do it. 

The Human: 

….must be rewarding for you, 

to repay others for all those 

years of Misery.

Gul Madred: 

What do you mean? 

The Human: 

“Torture has never been a reliable 

means of extracting Information.”

“It is ultimately Self-defeating 

as a means of Control.”

“One wonders that it's still practiced.”

Gul Madred: 

I fail to see where this analysis 

is leading….

The Human: 

Whenever I look at you now, 

I won't see A Powerful Cardassian Warrior. 

I will see A Six Year Old Boy,

who is powerless to Protect Himself. 

Gul Madred: 

Be quiet. 

The Human: 

In spite of all you've done to me, 

I find you a pitiable man. 

Gul Madred: 

Picard, stop it, or I will turn this on 

and leave you here in agony all night. 

Capt. J-L Picard : 

Ah! You called me 'Picard'!

Gul Madred: 

What are the Federation's defence plans for Minos Korva? 

Capt. J-L Picard: 

There are four lights. 

(Madred uses the agoniser.) 

Gul Madred: 

There are five lights. 

How many do you see now? 

Capt. J-L Picard: 

(in agony) 

You are six years old. 

Weak and Helpless. 

You cannot Hurt Me. 

Gul Madred: 

How many? 

Capt. J-L Picard: 

Sur le pont d'Avignon, on y danse…..

JOOLS

 I hope I have viewing rights.

 HARRY

 Be our guest.

TESSA storms out.

 JOOLS

 Lively this side of the river isn’t it?

 HARRY

 Do you want him now or later?

TOM thinks just for a moment.

 TOM

 Right away.

INT. THAMES HOUSE - THE GRID - DAY 3. 0700

TOM is by the pods. He claps his hands.

 TOM

 Listen up everyone!

They are all ears.

 TOM (CONT’D)

 When our guest arrives no staring. He’s a

 returning hero, right? Zoe, when he passes

 your station say hello, normal as you can.

He jumps off table and goes to the pods. A moment. Then

PETER SALTER - still in black combat gear - approaches

from the other side of the pods, flanked by two SPECIAL

BRANCH HEAVIES. He comes through the pods.

TOM extends a hand.

TOM Peter.

PETER Tom?

Shakes. The pod closes, Special Branch men still behind

it.

TOM

 I thought we’d use Harry’s office.

 PETER

 He’s not here?

 TOM

 Some function. He was over the moon to hear

 you’re out. He’ll be here soon as he can.

FROM PETER’S POV: he looks across the Grid. His vision is

a little blurred. There is a low but even ringing in his

ears - we hear it.

GENERAL POV:

 ZOE

Hello Peter.

PETER Zoe.

She smiles. Not a crack. TOM and PETER have reached

HARRY’s office. TOM opens the door.

INT. THAMES HOUSE, MEETING ROOM - DAY 3. 0702

HARRY, JOOLS, TESSA watching intently as - on screens -

TOM and PETER enter HARRY’s office.

 JOOLS

 Bug your own office do you Harry?

 HARRY

 Just for special occasions.

ZOE slips in.

INT. THAMES HOUSE - HARRY’S OFFICE - DAY 3. 0703

TOM and PETER SALTER. They sit. Not with the desk between

them.

 TOM

 Are you OK?

 PETER

 Yeah I’m OK, touch of tinnitus ... With the

 bang bangs.

TOM producing two glasses and a bottle of malt.

 TOM

 (Pouring.)

 Well here we go, Harry’s finest.

 PETER

 Not for me.

 TOM

 Anyway.

 (Toasts him.)

 A triumph.

 PETER

 You reckon?

 TOM

 Though you were so off piste you weren’t even

 on the mountain.

A little laugh. PETER is forced to laugh too. TOM sips.

 TOM (CONT’D)

 So let’s do the details. Personnel, what

 they’re planning. It is the President’s visit

 they’re going for?

A beat. PETER is trying to get his game plan together.

He’s very wary of TOM’s improvisations.

PETER Yeah.

 TOM

 Where’s their HQ?

 PETER

 They had me blind folded.

 TOM

 Any feelings?

 PETER

 I felt East Anglia.

 TOM

 East Anglia. Not much cover.

PETER

 There were sheds ...

 TOM

 Aircraft hangers?

 PETER

 Could be.

 TOM

 Don’t matter, we’ve got the girl. She’ll tell

 us.

PETER very still.

FROM PETER’S POV: the slight blur, the tinnitus. TOM

seems at a strange remove to him.

 TOM

 And cos of your cover, you went along with

 this ... Silly university stunt. What was the

 point - theft to raise funds?

GENERAL POV:

The moment hangs.

 PETER

Right. They’re broke.

A beat.

 TOM

 Yeah, we picked the girl up. she got away

from the University, but then did this really

 stupid thing. She hurt herself.

PETER How?

 TOM

Broken ankle. Her comrades left her. By the

 canal.

 PETER

 They would.

 TOM

 Hard lot, are they?

PETER

 They reckon so.

 TOM

 East Anglia?

 (A beat.)

 Shall I make a leap? You always taught me to

 make leaps.

 PETER

 (Rattled.)

 Be my guest ...

TOM Wales.

There is the smallest flicker from PETER’s eyes.

INT. THAMES HOUSE, MEETING ROOM - DAY 3. 0705

 ZOE

 (Punches the air - still a whisper though.)

 Yes!

 JOOLS

 Was that a guess?

 HARRY

 (Blase.)

 East Anglia’s the opposite side of the

 country to Wales.

INT. THAMES HOUSE - HARRY’S OFFICE - DAY 3. 0706

A pause. Then PETER pours a glass of whisky.

 PETER

 Have you just cracked me?

 TOM

 (Very softly.)

 I don’t know. You tell me.

 PETER

 Fuck you Tom Quinn.

 (He downs the whisky.)

 The old Cernwyth Army Range, North of the

 Black Mountains. I trained there when it was

 alive - the same faces, same places come

 around. Cheeky though, eh? Anarchists holing

 up on derelict MOD property. They’re in

woodland that was called Red Alpha on the

 maps.

INT. THAMES HOUSE, MEETING ROOM - DAY 3. 0707

HARRY at once, pointing at ZOE.

HARRY Go!

She’s half out of the room already.

INT. THAMES HOUSE - HARRY’S OFFICE - DAY 3. 0708

PETER looks around. He sees ZOE crashing, running, half

falling across the Grid. He laughs.

 PETER

 Do you really have Andrea?

 TOM

 Oh yes. Paddington Green nick. The Special

 Branch quiz masters are with her.

 PETER

 Those animals. I want her here. Now.

TOM Sure.

He lifts a phone.

 TOM

 Bring Miss Chambers over to Thames House.

INT. THAMES HOUSE, MEETING ROOM - DAY 3. 0709

HARRY on the phone.

 HARRY

 Rightaway Tom.

Puts phone down.

 JOOLS

 Use the SAS attachment in Hereford. They’ve

 got a Chinook, they’ll love something to do.

 HARRY

 (Already dialling again.)

Absolutely.

INT. THAMES HOUSE - HARRY’S OFFICE - DAY 3. 0710

 TOM

 So you walked.

PETER Yeah.

 TOM

 (Low.)

 You, of all people. Why, Peter?

 PETER

 Boredom. Crippling, chest tearing, bum

 clenching boredom. With what the country’s

 become ... Boredom with buy, sell, image,

 credit card Nirvana and nothing else. I mean

 when the Soviet Union was crap you felt yeah,

 we’ve got something. My Dad died for it.

 Democracy. But now ... Nothing. It’s all gone

 ... Dead. No one believes in anything

 anymore. Then there was Andrea. This ... posh

 girl, turning herself inside out. For what

 she believed. The passion for a new life, it

 tore her apart, run her ragged and nearly

 bonkers but ... she was in good faith. I

 always thought that about you, Tom. You are

 in good faith.

 TOM

 And you threw everything away to go on a

 little robbery for your new Anarchist faith?

 It was a feint, wasn’t it. What were you

 doing there, Peter? In a Geography

 Department?

 PETER

 When Andrea’s here I’ll tell you.

They look at each other. TOM gives nothing away. But

PETER reads him right.

 PETER (CONT’D)

 She will be here.

 (a beat)

 She won’t. Because you don’t have her.

TOM I...

 PETER

 The old tricks are the best, eh?

 TOM

 You trained me.

 PETER

 You bastard...

The tinnitus is worsening. PETER holds his head.

 TOM

 Peter. Come back to us. You know we don’t

 burn our own. You’ll be given a desk job for

 a while, something decently meaningless. Then

 retirement, pension, the perks. You can be

 with Andrea.

It has become very intimate between them.

 PETER

 She got back to Wales?

 TOM

 We assume so. Peter, don’t make us crucify

 you.

 PETER

 I’ve got to go to the bog.

TOM Sure.

Stands.

INT. THAMES HOUSE - THE GRID - DAY 3. 0712

TOM and PETER make their way to the men’s loo.

Surreptitious eyes follow them.

INT. THAMES HOUSE - GENT’S LOO - DAY 3. 0714

PETER and TOM enter.

PETER goes into a stall. He tries to close the door - TOM

stops him and keeps it open.

TOM

 Peter. I still respect you. I want to keep

 that.

 PETER

 You won’t put me out to grass, will you?

 There’ll be no dream retirement cottage with

 garden, Andrea picking roses in a see-through

 chiffon dress. Don’t kid me, Tom. There’s

 only one future for me. To go back in the

 field. As a double agent, betraying her, her

 friends, their contacts... I’d be deadly for

 them.

 TOM

 No disgrace. You’d be serving your country.

 PETER

 I think that’s what she’s doing. Forgive me,

 Tom. I’m with her world, not yours. I won’t

 betray her.

A beat. TOM is tense, he can’t read what PETER is going

to do - but he senses something is coming.

 PETER

 Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?

TOM What?

 PETER

 Would you give your life to protect what you

 believe in?

A silence.

PETER looks at him. There is a wild, almost watery look

in his eyes.

 PETER

 I would.

TOM is moving but he is a fraction too late. PETER

smashes his forearm across TOM’s throat.

TOM goes crashing to the floor, clutching at his

windpipe, unable to make a sound.

TOM’S POV LEVEL WITH THE FLOOR: PETER is taking off his

trousers very fast in the cubicle.

TOM manages to let out a cry.

GENERAL POV: Men bursting into the loo.

PETER has hanged himself in the cubicle, a trouser leg as

a rope attached the cistern’s pipe, jumping to break his

neck.

TOM lets out a terrible cry of mourning, reaching out to

PETER.

INT. THAMES HOUSE - THE GRID - DAY 3. 1829

HARRY, JOOLS, TOM. HARRY speaking.

 HARRY

 We know the terrible cost the Service can

 wreak on all of us. And how the strongest can

 be proved weak because of its demands. There

 but for the grace of God go all of us.

At TOM’s station. ZOE is looking at her computer screen,

and whispering to DANNY, over HARRY’s speech.

 ZOE

 (whispering)

 Why bust into a geography Department in a

 University, and kill yourself for it?

 DANNY

 (whispering)

 Geography. Names of towns, rivers, valleys

 and hills ... It’s mad.

 HARRY

 But don’t lose sight of the fact this was an

 extraordinary operation and a great success.

 An entire and potentially dangerous extremist

 group, stopped in its tracks. Its leader

 facing extradition. Prosecutions at home. And

 a point to the public very well made. Very,

 very well done.

Claps on the grid but the mood is still uncertain.

HARRY (CONT’D)

Now Jools Siviter will eat his hat.

 JOOLS

Well little sisters ... Big sister says ... A

 wake for Peter Salter. Free drinks on

 Vauxhall Cross, upstairs at the George Head.

 Then we can all go out with clear heads

 tomorrow to welcome the President of the

 United States to our shores. Unmolested by

 assorted euro-anarchists.

 

George Smiley’s wartime superiors described him as having “the cunning of Satan and the conscience of a virgin”. During this time, he met and recruited Dieter Frey, who would go on to become an East German intelligence operative running the intelligence circle that was the main plot point of Le Carré’s first novel, Call for the Dead

In 1943, he was recalled to England to work at Circus headquarters, and in 1945 successfully proposed marriage to Lady Ann Sercomb, a beautiful, aristocratic, and libidinous young lady working as a secretary there. Ann would soon prove herself chronically unfaithful, engaging in numerous affairs and occasionally leaving Smiley entirely, though she always returned to him after the initial excitement of the separation ended. In the same year, Smiley left the Service and returned to Oxford. 

However, in 1947, with the onset of the Cold War, Smiley was asked to return to the Service, and in early 1951 moved into counter-intelligence work, where he would remain for the next decade. 

It is reported with a reference to the real life Gouzenko affair that “the revelations of a young cipher clerk in Ottawa had created a new demand for men of Smiley’s experience”. 

In 1945, Igor Gouzenko, a Soviet cipher at the Soviet embassy in Ottawa, defected and revealed a widespread Soviet spying network in the United States, the United Kingdom and Canada that came as a considerable shock to the leaders of western nations. 

During that period, Smiley first met his Soviet nemesis, Karla, in a Delhi prison. Karla proved impossible to crack, though an increasingly desperate Smiley inadvertently revealed his own weakness – his affection for his wife, Ann – during the interrogation. 

After he offered Karla the use of his cigarette lighter – a gift from his wife – Karla stole it, keeping it as a symbol of his victory over Smiley. 

The incident would continue to haunt Smiley for the remainder of his career.

Ensign Sonya Gomez

SONYA: 

Hot chocolate, please.

LAFORGE: 

We don't ordinarily Say 'Please' 

to food dispensers around here.

MAYBE YOU SHOULD.

SONYA: 

Well, since it's listed as Intelligent Circuitry, why not? 

After all, working with so much Artificial Intelligence 

can be dehumanising, right? 

So, why not combat that tendency 

with a little simple courtesy. 

Thank You.

LAFORGE: 

For someone who just arrived, 

you certainly aren't shy with your opinions.

SONYA: 

Have I been talking too much?

LAFORGE: 

No.

SONYA: 

Oh, I do tend to have a bit of a motor mouth, 

especially when I'm excited. 

And you don't know how exciting it is 

to get This Assignment.

Everyone in class, I mean everyone, 

wants The Enterprise. 

I mean, it would have been alright 

to spend some time on Reiner Six 

doing phase work with anti-matter. 

That's My Specialty.

LAFORGE: 

I know. That's why you got this assignment.

SONYA: 

I did it again. It's just that -

LAFORGE: 

I know, you're excited. 

Look, Sonya —

SONYA: 

Yes.

LAFORGE: 

I don't think you want to be around these control stations 

with that hot chocolate, do you?

SONYA: 

Oh, I'm sorry. 

I shouldn't even have this in Engineering. 

It's just we were talking 

and I forgot I had it in my hand. 

I'm going to go finish it over here. 

Lieutenant La Forge? 

This is not going to happen again.

So she turns around and her drink collides with Captain Picard, going all over his uniform

SONYA: 

Oh, no! Oh, I'm sorry. Oh, Captain.

LAFORGE: 

Actually it's my fault, sir.

PICARD: 

Indeed.

SONYA: 

Oh, I wasn't looking. 

It's all over you.

PICARD: 

Yes, Ensign. It's all over me.

SONYA: 

At least let me, sir.

PICARD: 

Ensign er, Ensign?

SONYA:

Oh, Ensign Sonya Gomez.

LAFORGE: 

Ensign Gomez is a recent Academy graduate. 

She just transferred over at Starbase One Seventy Three.

PICARD: 

Is that so? Well, Ensign Sonya Gomez, 

I think it will be simpler 

if I simply change my uniform.

LAFORGE: 

Captain, I must accept responsibility for this.

PICARD: 

Yes, Chief Engineer. 

I think I understand.

SONYA: 

I just want to say, sir, that I'm very excited about this assignment 

and I promise to serve you and My Ship — Your Ship, This Ship, 

to the best of my ability.

PICARD: 

Yes, Ensign, I'm sure that you will. 

Carry on.

Picard leaves

SONYA: 

Oh, my. First impressions, right? 

Isn't that what they say? 

First impressions are the most important.

LAFORGE: 

I'll give you this — 

It's a meeting the Captain won't soon forget.

[Corridor]

LAFORGE: 

I read your graduating Thesis. 

Now, I wouldn't have requested you if you weren't The Best.

SONYA: 

Where are we going?

LAFORGE: 

Ten Forward. We're going to forget about Work. 

We are going to sit, talk, relax, look at The Stars. 

You need to learn how to slow down.

SONYA: 

Oh, no, no, no, no, no. 

I can't do.

LAFORGE: 

You know, you're awfully young 

to be so driven.

SONYA: 

Yes, I am. I had to be. 

I had to be The Best, 

because only The Best get to be Here.

 

 ..

[Outside Sickbay]

PICARD: 

Ensign, you're with me.

[Turbolift]

PICARD: 

Bridge. You are a certified pilot, Ensign?

SITO: 

Yes, sir.

[Ready room]

PICARD: 

How long have you served on board 

The Enterprise, Ensign?

SITO: 

Seven months, sir.

PICARD: 

I see. 

I understand that you've been recommended 

for the Ops position. 

Do you think you're up to it?

SITO: 

I do, sir.

PICARD: 

I'm not so sure. 

I'm concerned about your record.

SITO: 

Sir?

PICARD: 

The Incident that you were involved in at The Academy.

SITO: 

With all due respect that was three years ago. 

My record since then --

PICARD: 

It doesn't matter how long ago it was, Ensign. 

Would you do something like that again?

SITO: 

I can assure you, sir, that I would never, 

never jeopardise lives by participating in --

PICARD: 

A dare devil stunt? 

I would certainly hope not. 

What concerns me, is that you participated in a cover-up that impeded an Official Investigation into The Death of A Cadet.

SITO: 

Sir, I know I should have Told The Truth right from The Start --

PICARD: 

Yes, you should, but you didn't. 

Instead you joined with the others to pretended that was simply an accident. 

Now, what do you think that tells me about your character?

SITO: 

Sir, if you had any idea 

what it was like after that incident. 

I didn't have any friends. 

I didn't have anyone to talk to. 

I had to take my flight test with The Instructor, 

because no one else would be my partner. 

In a lot of ways it would have been easier 

to just walk away, but I didn't. 

I stuck with it. 

Doesn't that say something 

about My Character, too?

PICARD: 

Well I'm really very sorry 

you didn't enjoy your time at the Academy, Ensign. 

As far as I'm concerned, 

You should have been expelled 

for What You Did. 

Quite frankly, I don't know 

how you made it on board This Ship. 

You're dismissed.

Gymnasium]

(a martial arts class has just finished)

WORF: Dismissed. Ensign Sito.

SITO: Yes, sir.

WORF: I also teach an advanced class. I believe you may be ready to participate. However, before you can join the group, you must pass the gik'tal.

SITO: Gik'tal?

WORF: Yes. It is a very ancient Klingon ritual. It tests your knowledge of the forms of the mok'bara.

SITO: I should practice first.

WORF: No. No practise. That is part of the ritual. The test must be unannounced.

(Worf blindfolds her)

WORF: Can you see?

SITO: No.

WORF: Good. The gik'tal has begun. Defend yourself.

(of course, he easily throws her)

WORF: You must anticipate my attack.

SITO: Yes, sir.

WORF: Defend yourself.

(once again, she has no idea where he is before she lands on her back)

WORF: Are you listening, Ensign?

SITO: Yes, but

WORF: Defend yourself.

(and a third time)

WORF: You did not anticipate.

(Sito removes the blindfold)

SITO: How am I supposed to defend myself when I can't see a thing?

WORF: 

Stop making excuses. Replace The Blindfold.

SITO: 

No. It's not a Fair Test.

WORF: 

Very good, Ensign. 

You have passed The Challenge.

SITO: 

What? By taking off The Blindfold?

WORF: 

It takes courage 

to Say The Test is Unfair.

SITO: 

One thing I don't understand. 

Doesn't gik'tal mean 'to The Death'?

WORF: 

You speak Klingon.

SITO: 

Sir, is there really such a thing as a gik'tal challenge?

WORF: 

No, there is not. 

But perhaps next time you are judged unfairly, 

it will not take so many bruises for you protest.

[Ready room]

SITO: 

All I've ever wanted is to make a career for myself in Starfleet. 

I can't change what happened at the Academy. 

No one can. 

All I can do is work hard 

and try to earn the respect of the people I serve with. 

If you're not going to give me that chance, then I respectfully request that you transfer me to another ship.

PICARD: 

If you're looking for a more lenient commander, 

I don't think you'll find one.

SITO: 

Permission to speak freely, sir?

PICARD: 

Please do.

SITO: 

If you didn't want me on Your Ship 

you should have said so when I was assigned to it. 

It's not Your Place to punish me 

for What I Did at The Academy. 

I've worked hard here. 

My record is exemplary. 

If you're going to Judge me, 

Judge me for What I Am now.

PICARD: 

Very well, Ensign. I will. 

It took courage to come here 

and face me after what I said to you 

the other day. 

I didn't ask you here because I was assessing your qualifications for the Ops position.

SITO: 

I don't understand, sir.

PICARD: 

I was harsh with you 

because I wanted to assess you 

for a very important Mission. 

A Mission that could put you in a situation that would be far more unnerving than a dressing-down by your commanding officer.

SITO: 

Can I ask what that mission is, sir?

PICARD: Join the senior officers in the Observation lounge at oh nine hundred hours. We'll discuss it then.

SITO: Yes, sir.

PICARD: 

And, Ensign -- 

I do know why you ended up on The Enterprise. 

I asked for you. 

I wanted to make sure 

that you got A Fair Chance to redeem yourself.

SITO: 

Thank you, sir.

1966

“Eleven years later, cycle 20 reversed the polarity. By 1966, hair had become longer, clothes were looser and more flamboyant, music became more involved and sophisticated, and the drugs were mind expanders like LSD.

In 1966 The Cosmic Wave entered the comics, to bring with it the gods of Thor, villains like The Anti-Matter Man, and John Broome’s psychedelic Flash stories. 

 

The new heroes were anti-establishment “Freaks” and Mutants.”

Excerpt From

Supergods

Grant Morrison

HUNTER :
Kill The Body and The Head will Die.
Ali-Frazier Fight.
Crazy Shit.

THE ABSOLUTE CREAM OF THE NATIONAL SPORTING PRESS :
A proper end to The '60s.
Ali beaten by a Human Hamburger.

HUNTER :
Both Kennedys murdered by Mutants.

Ladies and Gentlemen of The Class of 1999

At the prom. Everyone is standing, watching the stage. Xander is miming anticipation. 

Announcer: 

And the award for Sunnydale High's Class Clown for 1999 goes to — Jack Mayhew. 

  The winner puts on a balloon hat and acts silly. 

Xander: 

Please! Anybody can be a prop class clown. 

You know, none of the people who vote for these things are even funny. 

  Buffy is at the punch bowl, ignoring the ruckus. 

The announcer urges Jonathan to the microphone. 

Jonathan: 

We have one more award to give out. 

Is Buffy Summers here tonight? 

Did she, um... 

  The crowd turns and finds her. 

She looks nervous at the attention. 

Jonathan: 

This is actually a new category. 

First time ever. 

I guess there were a lot of write-in ballots, and, um, 

the prom committee asked me to read this. 

"We're not good friends. 

Most of us never found the time to get to know you, 

but that doesn't mean we haven't noticed you. 

We don't talk about it much, but it's no secret that Sunnydale High isn't really like other high schools. 

A lot of weird stuff happens here."

The Chorus :

Zombies! 

Hyena-People! 

Snyder! (laughter) 

"But, whenever there was a problem or something creepy happened, 

you seemed to show up and stop it. 

Most of the people here have been Saved by you, 

or helped by you at one time or another. 

We're proud to say that the Class of '99 has the lowest mortality rate of any graduating class in Sunnydale history. 

(applause from the crowd) 

And we know at least part of that is because of you.  

So the senior class, offers its thanks, and gives you, uh, this —

  Jonathan produces a multicolored, glittering, miniature umbrella with a small metal plaque attached to the shaft. 

It's from all of us, and it has written here : -

' Buffy Summers —

Class Protector ' 

  The crowd breaks into sustained applause and cheering. 

Buffy walks to the stage and takes her award. 

 

  Cut to Buffy, watching the dancers. 

Giles comes up behind her. 

Giles: 

You did Good Work tonight, Buffy. 

Buffy: 

And I got a little toy surprise. 

Giles: 

I had no idea that children en masse could be gracious. 

Buffy: 

Every now and then, people surprise you. 

Giles: (looking past her) 

Every now and then. 

“Iain Spence published Sekhmet Hypothesis: The Signals of the Beginning of a New Identity as a book in 1995, but it wasn’t until two years later that I came across his ideas in an article he’d written for the magazine Towards 2012. As an illuminating way of reconsidering the familiar, I’m particularly fond of the Sekhmet Hypothesis, which never fails to get people talking at parties. As usual, please remember that this is just a framework; a way of ordering information into meaningful patterns in the service of creative lateral thinking, if you like. You may be able to find all kinds of examples to refute this data, but first bear in mind that I’ve used this predictive model to great effect and no small financial reward, and trust me when I say I’m passing it on as a tip, not as a belief system. If this book has made any point clear, I hope it’s that things don’t have to be real to be true. Or vice versa.

Soon you’ll notice how many advertisers and trend makers are aware of this theory and have been applying it to product placement, design, and the seasonal shifts of the rag trade since Spence published it. The more people know about it and react against it, or try to preempt it, the more the effect is likely to dissipate or find different ways to express itself. That may already be happening in the windblown halls of popular culture, although as I write, in 2010, Spence’s broad predictions are accurate still.

Sunspot activity follows a twenty-two-year cyclical pattern, building to a period of furious activity known as the solar maximum, then calming down for the solar minimum. Every eleven years, the solar magnetic field also undergoes a polarity reversal. It’s a little like a huge switch that toggles on or off, or the volume slider on a mixing desk, with loud at one end and silent at the other, and each period is given an identifying number. Cycle 23, for instance, had its maximum in 1999.

Spence suggests that these regular rewirings of the solar magnetic field naturally have an effect on the human nervous system, which leaves its traces most clearly in our cultural record—like a desert wind carving the shape of its passage into the dunes of fashion, art, and music. As a shorthand toward understanding the two maximum states we flip between, Spence suggests we can regard one pole as having a “punk” character, while its opposite may be thought of as “hippie.”

In Spence’s lexicon, at least as I understand it (his own website will set you straight if.   wrong), punk maxima can be identified in a fashion vogue for short hair, tight clothes, short, punchy popular music, aggression, speedy drugs, and materialism. Hippie, as I’m sure you’ll have guessed, is associated with signifiers from the converse end of the spectrum, like long hair, loose or baggy clothes, longer-form popular music, psychedelic or mind-expanding drugs, peace, and a renewed interest in the spiritual or transcendental. He focused on youth culture trends on the basis that young nervous systems registered the magnetic reversals most profoundly and reflected them back in the lineaments of the art and music they made or consumed. So far, so good.

In 1955, when our planet was bombarded by cycle 19 solar magnetic waves, young people in the West responded like needles in a groove with rock ’n’ roll’s tight jeans, short hair, biker JD aggression, short, fast songs, and widespread use of stimulant drugs like speed and coffee.

Silver Age comic-book punk was embodied by crew-cut Barry Allen in his speed suit. “Chemicals and Lighting” could have been a song or a band. 

The tight suits, establishment men, and emphasis on science and rationality are all “wrong), punk maxima can be identified in a fashion vogue for short hair, tight clothes, short, punchy popular music, aggression, speedy drugs, and materialism. Hippie, as I’m sure you’ll have guessed, is associated with signifiers from the converse end of the spectrum, like long hair, loose or baggy clothes, longer-form popular music, psychedelic or mind-expanding drugs, peace, and a renewed interest in the spiritual or transcendental. He focused on youth culture trends on the basis that young nervous systems registered the magnetic reversals most profoundly and reflected them back in the lineaments of the art and music they made or consumed. So far, so good.

In 1955, when our planet was bombarded by cycle 19 solar magnetic waves, young people in the West responded like needles in a groove with rock ’n’ roll’s tight jeans, short hair, biker JD aggression, short, fast songs, and widespread use of stimulant drugs like speed and coffee.

Silver Age comic-book punk was embodied by crew-cut Barry Allen in his speed suit. “Chemicals and Lighting” could have been a song or a band. The tight suits, establishment men, and emphasis on science and rationality are all typical, as are Stan Lee’s realistic superheroes such as the Fantastic Four and Spider-Man.

Eleven years later, cycle 20 reversed the polarity. By 1966, hair had become longer, clothes were looser and more flamboyant, music became more involved and sophisticated, and the drugs were mind expanders like LSD.

In 1966 the cosmic wave entered the comics, to bring with it the gods of Thor, villains like the Anti-Matter Man, and John Broome’s psychedelic Flash stories. The new heroes were antiestablishment “freaks” and mutants.

Nineteen seventy-seven brought a shift back to punk, as expressed in Malcolm McLaren and Vivienne Westwood’s fifties-influenced clothes and music, bondage and restriction, amphetamine sulfate use, and angry, confrontational politics.

The comics boom of that cycle gave us Judge Dredd, Frank Miller’s gritty noir, Alan Moore’s harsh logical realism.

Nineteen eighty-eight saw ecstasy, or MDMA, as the favored drug, accompanying long-form trance, ambient and dance music, Manchester “baggy” fitness wear as street wear, grunge beards, and a return to long hair. In comic books, this was the time of Deadline, Doom Patrol, Shade, and Sandman.

Spence didn’t get as far as 1999 in his Towards 2012 essay, but he imagined the rise of a “Stormer” generation of what he called “imperial youth.” As it happened, his predictions were more or less accurate. In 1999, we had nu-metal, The Matrix, tight clothes, short hair, No Logo anticorporate demos, the emergence of bondage styles, and the Goth underground moving into the mainstream, a revival of popularity for cocaine, and, more significantly, perhaps, the jittery rise of Red Bull, Starbucks and coffee society. Comics gave us proactive world-changing superheroes and villains in Authority, Marvel Boy, and Wanted.

This book will be published in 2011, when the fruits of the next wave will be hard to avoid. As I write, the word psychedelic is being used so often on TV and in magazines that it’s barely funny. Avatar’s hippy eco-vision of an interconnected natural world and the massive success of Alice in Wonderland (always popular during hippie periods) exemplify this current, as do the vampire heroes who have occupied the imaginative place once taken by sixties Pre-Raphaelite and Edwardian dandies. In comics, the “realism” boom has been quietly left behind like an unfashionable pair of trousers. The new superhero books are becoming more fantastic, colorful, and self-consciously “mythic.”

Spence’s article does not, nor will I, attempt to track the alleged effects of these undeniably real solar magnetic events on non-Western cultures. 

Neither does he extend his argument backward to consider the ways in which the popular arts scene of 1944 could be described in “hippie” terms (LSD, however, was synthesized in 1945), or that of 1933 as “punk” (although perhaps Weimar decadence and the art of George Grosz could build a case there). And so on. I leave that contemplation to skeptics who choose to debunk the idea or to zealots who want to believe it.

Unless Terence McKenna’s “Timewave Zero” theories are correct, and we collapse into an atemporal singularity on December 21, 2012, 2021 will bring the cycle back around to “punk,” and if this seesaw sounds horribly predictable and repetitive, be assured that it will all seem fresh to the young people who take their own inspiration from the solar trade winds.

As for me, I intended to bring my run on JLA to an end along with the century. The Invisibles, too, was scheduled to wrap in 2000, and I planned to re-create myself again to complement the change in the weather. I was almost forty, had never felt better, and wanted to be ready for the harsher spirit I’d decided was on its way in the wake of the Labour election win, the death of the former Princess Diana, and the commencement of cycle 23.

I’d also just met my future wife, Kristan, a stunning, brainy blonde who dressed like Barbarella to go to the pub, worked as a corporate insurance broker, and read Philip K. Dick. It would be another three years before our paths crossed again and we were able to get together, but that die was already cast.

On a trip to Venice, Italy, I bought my first real suit—Donna Karan—and was encouraged to go corporate. Smart tailoring and the jargon of advertising, motivational speaking, instead of fractal-patterned shirts and druggy psychedelia, seemed the way to go in cycle 23. At heart, I’d always been an uptight Presbyterian anyway. I’d never been “able to get back to the radiant world I’d reached in Kathmandu, and I’d begun to “suspect it was because in some way I was already there. I had very little doubt that I’d “wake up” in that place at the moment of death, like a game player looking up from the screen where his avatar lies bleeding, only to realize he’s home and safe and always was.

“The drugs don’t work, they just make you worse,” sang the Verve, and after eight years of experimentation, ruthless self-examination, ego inflation, and ego loss, I had to admit they were probably onto something. The shallow hedonistic spirit of the nineties was too fragile to endure the cold of the vast twin shadows cast backward by an onrushing age of terror. Darker times were on their way, demanding a new clarity and rigor of thought.

I tried to articulate the outlines of the next trend by introducing to the pages of JLA a military-funded superteam called the Ultramarines, whipped up by Uncle Sam to keep the Justice League in check should their internationalist stance ever compromise US military security. By the end of the story, the Ultramarines had split from their paymasters and joined with a group of like-minded DC heroes in a hovering city-sized headquarters named Superbia, there to announce a bold new manifesto for change :

SUPERBIA HEREBY DECLARES INDEPENDENCE FROM ALL NATIONS AND OPENS ITS GATES TO SUPER-CHAMPIONS FROM THE FOUR CORNERS OF THE EARTH. WE INTEND TO SERVE AS A FIRST-STRIKE GLOBAL PEACEKEEPING FORCE. WE WILL KILL IF WE HAVE TO. IF WE HAVE TO, WE’LL LET YOU KNOW. TERRORISTS, DESPOTS, CORRUPT BUSINESSMEN … THE INTERNATIONAL ULTRAMARINE CORPS IS HERE. THERE’S NOWHERE TO HIDE.

As it happened, I’d almost exactly described what the next big development of the superhero concept would look like.

Meanwhile, I prepared myself for the oncoming zeitgeist by listening to Chris Morris’s bleak, brilliant, bad-trippy Blue Jam on Radio 1 every Thursday after John Peel. Oddly enough, I was beginning to find humor in all the things that had once frightened me. The prying eye of Big Brother, the aging process, loneliness, failure, and death were all just punch lines to the joke. I loved to listen over and over again to HAL 9000’s death scene from the soundtrack to 2001 : A Space Odyssey, and when Jarvis Cocker and Pulp released their masterpiece comedown album, This Is Hardcore, its unflinching evocation of middle age, stale waterbeds, and tinny bachelor pad music made me rethink my own lifestyle.

I was about as alien as I’d ever wanted to be, but I’d grown tired of one-night stands, drink, drugs, and the dating game.

It was time to get serious.”

Papa Roach

End of Days

Gabriel Byrne - Rod Steiger - Kevin Pollock

Miriam Margolyes

Nhu8

The Duel of The Fates

Fight Club

Clubbed to Death

Earshot

The Columbine Clues

EgyptAir 990