Episode Report CardKeckler: C- | 4 USERS: C
YOU GRADE IT
In order to deliver the best possible recap of this worst possible Voyager episode ever, I punched a few buttons at Netflix, sent out for a new liver, and sat down to inhale all the previous episodes. At the end of those thirty episodes, neither my apartment nor my mental state was an exceptionally pretty thing to behold. I'm in the process of authoring a cocktail game thing and I had to drink all two hundred eight-one cocktails I researched just to get though it all. And when I ran out of drunk, I started mixing the dregs of bottles together. You wouldn't know it to look at 'em, but olive juice, ginger beer, and Linnie aquavit actually make a mighty fine tipple. Delivers quite a kick too. *Burp* Okay, I know I said this was the worst possible Voyager episode ever, but the truth of it is that it was also kind of AWESOME in its supreme horribleness. Turning into a slimy and totally ooky creature? Check. Vomiting body parts? Check. Still managing to have sex after all of that? Double check. It's like Bermaga wanted to see just how far they could heebie our Trek-injected jeebies. Not even the truly memorable TNG episode "Genesis" managed to reach such squirmy heights, because the only thing to litter in that episode was Spot, and we didn't really get grossed out by how she managed to achieve her pregnant state. Janeway, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter. Anyway, my general reaction to Voyager has been as follows: if Janeway had actually abided by the Prime Directive, they never would have gotten stranded in space, right? How the hell did her crew not mutiny by the second episode? I would have. After watching "Parallax," when Chakotay and Janeway are both backing their individual choices for Chief Engineer, I realized that Voyager is so totally the Brady Bunch of Star Trek. There the two of them are, merging their totally separate families, and they have to decide who is more deserving of the attic room. Janeway's Marilla Cuthbert bun is just as memorable as Carol Brady's Wesson-infused mullet. Paris fiddles around in a "shuttlepod." He gives feedback to Torres and Kim and counts up to warp nine-point-three before he admits to a little vector drifting, which always sounds semi-dirty to me. The sh'pod shakes and quivers. He reads a fracture in the port nacelle pylon -- oddly, he says "NAY-cell," and here I've been thinking it was "nuh-CELL" -- and tries to get up to warp ten, to the Threshold. Paris yells that he's breaking up as stuff "explodes" all around him. Torres looks on impassively, while Kim drops his chin on his folded arms. The camera pans over to show Paris sitting on his ass in the middle of a yellow-grid holodeck. Peering around him, Paris seems confused. "You're dead," Torres informs him, annoyed. Heaven is a holodeck. Paris sighs.