Hartog’s Den

As the May 8th opener of the new Star Trek movie rapidly approaches, I have many things to think about.  Not just the mundane (gosh, my Starfleet engineering uniform needs to be ironed probably, and did I ever replace that broken communicator?), but also thoughts more profound.  Now, I know what you’re thinking, this uberg33k is about to write a giant post on how much he loves Star Trek, and…. well, fine, you’re right.  But bear with me a few paragraphs, as the topic I wish to discuss is not the show itself, but the philosophy found therein.  I am a Trekkie today for the values that the show espouses, which I will explore and explain here.

For the majority of my life I have been a Star Wars fan, and don’t get me wrong, I still am.  As a child, during the 7 year run of Star Trek: The Next Generation from 1987 to 1994, that show was always more of a background presence to my more direct love of George Lucas’ world.  I vaguely remember my parents turning on TNG every now and then in the evenings during dinner.  My brother and I had an obsession with having dinner on a picnic mat placed in the middle of the family room; TNG just happened to be a series on at dinner time that my mother somehow determined to be devoid of objectionable material.  (Later of course I realized that nearly every episode contains a ludicrous amount of sexual tension, though I was far too young to pick up on that at the time).

Star Wars was always more immediate; it was about action and adventure – two-dimensional and easily lovable/hate-able characters gallivanting about on epic crusades to save the galaxy and reestablish the noble and mysterious Jedi order.  This is a science-fiction universe that appeals to all ages, is simple to follow yet as complex as you want it to be (I happen to own the Imperial Sourcebook, a giant technical guide to the Empire’s starships and equipment), and a story that touches on from whence our civilization came – our past Christian and pre-Christian archetypal characters that have pervaded Western epics since the Greeks, possibly earlier.

Star Trek on the other hand, is harder to latch onto because it looks ahead, to where we might be.  Whereas Luke, Han, and Leia are detached from us in that their adventures happen “a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away”, the USS Enterprise in Gene Roddenberry’s story is built on our Earth, in our future.  After a second 21st century Dark Age of world war, the fragmentation of humanity, and near nuclear apocalypse, humanity eventually unites following the discovery of intelligent life beyond Earth (see the amazing movie First Contact).

How profound it indeed would be, to find that we are not alone in this vast sea of blackness, and that the differences that divide us here on Earth are in fact laughably minuscule compared to the infinte wonder of what is out there. In the words of President Whitmore (played by Bill Pullman) in the popular sci-fi thriller Independence Day: “Mankind… those words should have new meaning for all of us today.  We can’t be consumed by our petty differences any longer.”

By the end of the 22nd century, so the story goes, Starfleet has been established, world government formed, and humanity realigned with the goals of peaceful exploration and scientific knowledge of the universe.  Yes, we still have weapons, and yes, on occasion we have to use them; but our progress as a society, as a people, is no longer tied to military dominance or nationalistic goals.  In Star Trek, we mature into the core of what humanity is – intrepid explorers, not devoid of prejudice but rising above it, and always creating, learning, protecting, and pushing the boundaries of what is possible.

The following quote is from an essay posted to Living Trekism:

The whole show was an attempt to say that humanity will reach maturity and wisdom on the day that it begins not just to tolerate, but to take a special delight in differences in ideas and differences in life forms. We tried to say that the worst possible thing that can happen to all of us is for the future to somehow press us into a common mould, where we begin to act and talk and look and think alike. If we cannot learn to actually enjoy those small differences, take a positive delight in those small differences between our own kind, here on this planet, then we do not deserve to go out into space and meet the diversity that is almost certainly out there. And I think that this is what people responded to.

More broadly, I think its a fair argument to make that Gene Roddenberry, the creator of Star Trek, is a secular humanist.  As described by the Council for Secular Humanism, theirs is a philosophy that espouses the following tenets:

• A conviction that dogmas, ideologies and traditions, whether religious, political or social, must be weighed and tested by each individual and not simply accepted on faith.
• Commitment to the use of critical reason, factual evidence, and scientific methods of inquiry, rather than faith and mysticism, in seeking solutions to human problems and answers to important human questions.
• A primary concern with fulfillment, growth, and creativity for both the individual and humankind in general.
• A constant search for objective truth, with the understanding that new knowledge and experience constantly alter our imperfect perception of it.
• A concern for this life and a commitment to making it meaningful through better understanding of ourselves, our history, our intellectual and artistic achievements, and the outlooks of those who differ from us.
• A search for viable individual, social, and political principles of ethical conduct, judging them on their ability to enhance human well-being and individual responsibility.
• A conviction that with reason, an open marketplace of ideas, good will, and tolerance, progress can be made in building a better world for ourselves and our children.

Reflect on every (if any) episode of Star Trek (especially The Next Generation) that you have seen, and I think you will find that one or more of these tenets are central themes of each.  I myself would not go so far as to call myself a secular humanist, but in general, the philosophy described here is one in which I find many principles that would take us far if we let them.

This vision is not just far off in the future.  There are men and women working today to make it real, perhaps not in terms of secular humanism, but certainly for the core spirit of peaceful and bold exploration and discovery.  Consider the memorable opening lines of the series, set to appropriately inspirational music (and spoken as dramatically as only Patrick Stewart can):

Space…  the final frontier.  These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise – its continuing mission: To explore the universe; To search for new life and new civilizations; and to boldly go where no one has gone before.

And compare to the mission statement of a particular agency of our government:

To understand and protect our home planet; to explore the universe and search for life; to inspire the next generation of explorers… as only NASA can.

Further, reflect on the words of a great man, President John F. Kennedy, as he launched this great agency, the National Aeronautics and Space Administration, on it’s most historic mission.  The whole thing is relevant here, but I have underlined a few choice phrases that drive the point home:

“For the eyes of the world now look into space — to the moon and to the planets beyond — and we have vowed that we shall not see it governed by a hostile flag of conquest, but by a banner of freedom and peace. We have vowed that we shall not see space filled with weapons of mass destruction, but with instruments of knowledge and understanding. Yet the vows of this Nation can only be fulfilled if we in this Nation are first, and therefore we intend to be first. In short, our leadership in science and industry, our hopes for peace and security, our obligations to ourselves as well as others all require us to make this effort to solve these mysteries, to solve them for the good of all men and to become the world’s leading spacefaring nation.”

Profoundly moving, and to me clearly in keeping with the spirit of the creative explorer that Roddenberry so revered.  The respect that the world of Star Trek showed to the mission of NASA was acknowledged and even returned.  On September 17, 1976, America’s first constructed space shuttle orbiter, designated OV-101, rolled off Rockwell’s line near Air Force Plant 42 in Palmdale, California.  Roddenberry and many of the original cast were present; and before OV-101 was transferred to NASA’s nearby Dryden Flight Research Center for its first flight tests, it was christened… Space Shuttle Enterprise.

So lets reflect.  I have written here an essay on why I love Star Trek, yet not once have I  gone into detail about the characters, the worlds, the starships, the geek conventions, the special effects… these are fun and interesting to me certainly, but in my mind they are secondary.  The real reason I have come to enjoy Star Trek is what it represents – it is a bold and positive view of what we could become if we tried.  It is the idea that we can set aside our differences, that we can someday be free of militarism, that we can learn to use our strengths as a species and learn to grow from our weaknesses… and that all else will someday be secondary to the great quest of exploring the strange and overwhelming beauty that awaits us on that infinite final frontier.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a Starfleet uniform to iron.

One of my favorite parts about running is listening to music.  In particular, it’s useful as a distraction from the sore legs and burning lungs, and some songs are able to motivate me into running faster.  I’ll find myself running faster without really being aware that I had picked up the pace!  I’ll play a loud, pounding song at the bottom of the steep hill and focus on the song as I charge up.

I’ve been wanting to review albums for this blog, but I decided that I’m going to approach it differently.  I will be listening to albums in their entirety during one of my longs runs, and review the albums on the musical merits, but also rate how well the album works while running.

Doves – Kingdom of Rust

Released on April 6th, 2009, this is the first album in over four years from the English band, and it’s long overdue!  Doves has always been one of my favorite bands, a melancholy swirling of guitars and drums which fits well with the gray, windy days of early spring here in eastern Washington.  I bought this album on the day that it came out, and it’s a grower, sounding better with repeated listens. I played this album in my headphones while running a hilly 8.5 mile loop through Pullman, bundled up in high 30s, cloudy and breezy weather.  With a few exceptions, this album was perfect for the circumstances of my run.

Track 1, Jetstream, blends house music with rock, driven though the entire song by the steady sixteenth notes on the high-hat, which sounds particularly cool with the flanger effects.  The song is a very gradual buildup, leading to an awesome distorted guitar riff at 4:22, and then concluding with full-on guitar rock, the high-hat still behind it.  A great opening track, and great to start a run with.  Rating 10/10.  Runner’s rating 10/10.

Track 2, Kingdom of Rust, is my favorite of the album.  The band has two singers, and I definitely prefer the guy that sings this one, and most of the other songs on the album.  He’s got smoky, deep, and slightly raspy voice, and it suits their sound very well.  This song has a country two-step beat and strings, with a quiet beginning that builds up to Doves’ typical epic levels.  Such a great song.  Rating 10/10.  Runner’s rating 10/10.

Track 3, The Outsiders, is a straight-up rock song.  Driven by a fast-paced drum beat and heavily distorted bass guitar, it’s a great running tune.  Rating 8/10.  Runner’s rating 10/10.

Track 4, Winter Hill, sounds much like Doves did in previous album.  A good song, nothing special beyond the cool bit with flutes.  A little slow for a running song.  Rating 7/10.  Runner’s rating 7/10.

Track 5, 10:03, did not start well as a running tune.  But holy crap what a buildup!  The buildup leads to a U2-style guitar thrashing.  Rating 8/10.  Runner’s rating:  beginning 1/10, end 10/10, overall 7/10.

Track 6, although quieter, is driven by a solid drum line.  A sadder song, it suits the cold, gray weather that I was running in.  The end is awesome!  Rating 8/10.  Runner’s rating 8/10.

Track 7, Birds Flew Backwards, was my least favorite.  Pretty, but no beat and difficult to run to.  Rating 5/10.  Runner’s rating 1/10.

Track 8, Spellbound, is a high energy 6/8 time signature tune.  My stride rate was just slightly faster than the beat of the song, which annoyed me more than expected.  Solid song, but nothing special.  Rating 7/10.  Runner’s rating 8/10.

Track 9, Compulsion, is to put it simply, fucking awesome!  It’s the best song outside of the two opening tracks.  It might be my bias as a bass player, but the funky bass line in this song sells it, and I found myself wanting to dance a bit while I ran.  The shimmering guitar in the background adds great effect.  Rating 10/10.  Runner’s rating 9/10.

Track 10, House of Mirrors, is arena-rock Doves.  The drummer is whacking the snare full-strength on every beat, as he’s done on many prior songs, and it’s a great sound.  Good tempo, great to run to.  Rating 9/10.  Runner’s rating 10/10.

Track 11, Lifelines, concludes the album.  I didn’t find anything special about it, but it’s a solid end.  Rating 7/10.  Runner’s rating 5/10.

Overall, I rate the album a 9.5 out of 10, and a 9 out of 10 as a runner.  It’s rapidly becoming one of my favorite running albums.  This band has not gotten the press it deserves here in the USA, and that needs to change.  You must check these guys out!

Running for last week:
Monday April 6th, 2.78 miles at an 8:46/mi pace.
Wednesday April 8th, 7.45 miles at 9:02/mi.
Thursday April 9th, 3.12 miles at 8:51/mi.
Saturday April 11th, 4.13 miles at 8:50/mi.
Sunday April 12th, 4.70 miles at 7:44/mi!  This run killed me.

Total for the week:  22.18 miles!  A very solid week overall, feeling healthy, and happy to be over 20 miles per week.

Gentlemen of the Council,

May I begin with the sentiment that I do not envy the decision before you. I know of no citizen that purports to be anti-arts or anti-library or anti-parks… these are all good things, which any fine upstanding citizen would wish to have in his or her community. But alas, the times being what they are, YOU are left with the awful decision of what parts of our community shall be reduced or even eliminated to best preserve the whole.

Gentlemen, I have every faith that you are all educated, logical, and well-intentioned men. I have every faith that you are men who care genuinely about the community that you represent, no doubt why you have chosen a path of public service. And I have every faith that you comprehend the import of your thinking as it pertains to the future of this community; but may I emphasize, that we as a democratic society have vested in you a profound amount of power over the quality of our lives and the lives of succeeding generations. In the coming days and weeks, you will wield this power to drastically change local public spending, and in so doing affect the quality of life of tens of thousands of your constituents.

Now, I am not a professional actor. Indeed, it is with deep pride I call myself an amateur, in the truest and most original sense of the word – from the latin amare, to love. I dabble in theatre because I love it, and because I love the people with whom I have had the pleasure of associating in the course of my time in it. And in eleven years and across three states of involvement with the performing arts, nowhere have I seen a cadre of people with more love for what they do, than in the three community theatre groups, the many arts programs, and the staff and crew that make a second home of the Palmdale Playhouse.

In our playhouse gentlemen – and I say “our” inclusive of yourselves, as indeed it belongs to all of us in the this community – in our playhouse, we certainly believe in creating art, in touching lives, in drawing out both smiles and tears in the spirit of self reflection; but most prominently, we believe in learning. I cannot quote to you the number of youth and adults in the many community arts programs at the playhouse, as I do not know those figures; and in any case, I am sure you have been pouring over such figures over the last several months besides. But the number of members of the local community who have benefited from the Playhouse’s programs, either as participants or audience, is no doubt an impressive figure would it be estimated.

I would venture to guess that in the last few weeks you have received many letters and speeches about the playhouse specifically; allow me to instead use my time to present a broader perspective. If we look to history, as great civilizations have gone through periods of decline, the first men and women to be reduced are the artists and the inventors. Yet in these visionaries, these people of ideas and self-reflection, is where we find the defining characteristic of what makes our civilization great.

In our support for arts and ideas, we express fundamentally American values. The right to think freely and reflect on who we are as a society is no less cherished a right than the right to petition one’s government, as I do even now with these words. Our arts represent a society that welcomes progress, change, innovation, and the self-analysis that allows for continuous improvement, and encourages the spiritual growth that comes with artistic expression.

And these values have given us much; consider, gentlemen, the astounding volume of innovative and creative American thought that has led our way from humble beginnings to the pinnacle of the modern world. Just as during their respective apexes, and even still today, we marvel at and learn from the architecture, sculpture, drama, and philosophy of ancient Rome and Greece, so to has the global community in the past century been dominated by American arts and culture. Regardless of whether one agrees with the individual message of a particular artistic piece, the core value of upholding the right to express ourselves freely and creatively is fundamental to every artistic endeavor.

This grand vision is not somewhere out there in the abstract nether. It lies here, in this community, in this Palmdale Playhouse, in every small community arts program across the nation. True, the Hollywoods and Broadways of the nation make more headlines, but here at the local community level is where the heart of that artistic expression is born and grown. It is here that we take an evening to enjoy the pleasures of drama or music, of dance or the visual arts, and to either get away from or celebrate our lives for a few hours. And it is here that we teach our children to be tolerant, open-minded, well-rounded, cultured citizens who appreciate the beauty — the sometimes terrible beauty — of life.

The arts seldom balance a spreadsheet. They rarely provide profit or deliver a concrete product. But the flag raised over Iwo Jima served no logical purpose either; neither does the Statue of Liberty provide any concrete benefit to anyone, besides perhaps the direct employees who work there. Yet for such things, the return on investment is as intangible as it is profound. The arts and the Playhouse are not only the spirit of the local community, they are part of a greater whole that represents who we are as a people; and this spirit, especially in the darkest of times, must not be taken from us.

I have not been for a run in nearly two weeks. My job requires a lot of standing, and when I get home my feet are sore and all I want to do is sit on my arse and read some Robert Jordan. Also, I get up before the sun rises and I get home after it sets, and the last time I ran in the dark I totally ate it and skinned half my knee. The only exercise I have been getting is on the weekends when I go hiking at South Mountain.

But I got out of work early today, and when I got home it was still light out and Pete was asleep. I put on my sneakers and jogging shorts so I couldn’t change my mind while I checked the celebrity gossip blogs, and then I set out for my usual route around the artificial lakes.

Turning a corner about halfway through my run, I saw a father and his two small sons, probably neither more than five, fishing in the lake. The father was doing something with one of the lines, and the older son was solemnly holding the second line while the little guy watched his dad. Right when I passed them, the younger boy yelled and I whipped my head around just in time to see him drop what looked like a small sunfish right onto the lakewall, where it flopped until it landed into the pond. “Aw, man,” the boy said, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

The only other people I passed were a middle-aged couple with their Queensland Heeler and a girl who was just leaving her house. She was dressed for exercise but was also wearing a sweater with a faux-fur collar, which stuck me as odd. I figured she was out for a walk, and it has been much cooler here lately and there is good reason for a sweater (Yes, it’s dropped below fifty degrees Fahrenheit at night and I’m calling it cold. I am officially an Arizona girl.)

That last third of my run was very difficult. The rule I have given myself about running is that I can run as slowly as I need to, but I am not allowed to stop or walk. I stick to this rule except under extreme circumstances, like when I see the great blue heron that lives on the lake, or when there is a full moon in the afternoon sky. My reasons for running aren’t so much my cardiac capabilities as my mental health, so pretty nature scenes take precedence over a regimen.

The only other reason I pause is stoplights. There are two on my route, one about five minutes in and the other about five minutes before I’m done. I like this method; some days I catch the lights and other days I don’t, so whether I push through or take a break is up to random chance rather than my willpower. Today I didn’t catch the light and I was grateful. Just as I stepped up to press the pedestrian button, the girl with the faux-fur collar came jogging up behind me and called out, “You were inspiring me! The whole way I was following you going, ‘Yeah!’” I grinned at her, surprised and gratified. I didn’t know what to say really, but I called after her, “Good luck!”

After the light turned green I sprinted home.

In an instant, an epiphany dawned on me.  A vision so exciting, so compelling, that a scant few weeks later I was reading every book I could on the subject.

“So you want to produce a play.  Before I congratulate you, allow me to ask  one question: are you completely out of your mind?”   So goes the first sentence of A Complete Idiot’s Guide to Amateur Theatricals, by John Kenrick.

“Oh John, you silly chicken little,” I said to myself, confident that with eleven years of stage experience as an actor, I certainly had this whole directing and producing gig down pat,  “Surely, you must be joking.”

Well, I can’t say he didn’t warn me.

The idea to produce small, flexible, low-budget volunteer theatre is not a new one for me; back in the high school days several friends and I formed the group “Acting Off the Shelf” to tour around libraries in the Boise area, performing adaptations of literature for youth.  We had a wonderful time, and I still hold the hope that we made some literary difference in at least a few kids’ lives.  But in those days we were nomadic, completely without financial means, and lacking theatrical experience of any kind.

So, when five months ago when I first  stood in the emptiness of the garage in my first purchased home and that vision hit me, I knew that this time, even if I still didn’t know what I was doing entirely, I had a leg up on the previous project.  Now, I had a decade of theatre experience.  Now, I had financial means.  Now, I knew friends who loved  and could apply the various aspects of theatre, technical and artistic, who might be persuaded to help me.

As I write this today, that vision is slowly beginning to take shape.  Thanks to the experience and excitement of several friends rounded up from local community theatre we actually realistically expect to produce a short play in my garage this June.

I have a full production team working on the technical aspects and planning for future shows; in addition to myself in the roles of producer and artistic director, I have excellent people in the positions of production stage manager, technical director, lighting designer, sound designer, scenic designer, and props/costumes designer.  Far from being volunteers I have to coax, I find that my team’s’ enthusiasm for the project is such that I often feel the need to rein in the energy to avoid having it take off out of control (and thus melt my credit card).  Barely had rehearsals of our first show started when half-serious propositions came in to produce HMS Pinafore, in my garage no less.

So far, “Voices” by Hortense Flexner, a beautiful piece about the ravages of war and the power of the individual spirit, is in rehearsal and my two young actresses are doing splendidly well.   After a fun trip to Lowe’s, a theatrical lighting system for my garage is nearly complete.  Acoustic tests and sound mixing move on apace, and the set is in design.

It has been a beautiful and heartwarming thing to see so many friends get excited over a crazy idea of mine, most of which are silly and juts fizzle out.  But it seems that this time, I’ve managed to find one among the few ideas of mine that somehow snowball into grand schemes (that I eventually lose control of… cross your fingers not this one).

This being the first time I have directed in any formal capacity, naturally I underestimated both tasks.  But even though it is far more work, money, and time than I ever expected, I cannot express how enthusiastically excited I am to see this project continue to grow.

Stay tuned for further updates as events unfold.