The Most Awards 1997

Originally published January 16, 1998, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1261

Yes, it’s that time of year again. The time when we here (okay, me here) at BID issue—The Most Awards. Yes, named for no particular reason after Donny Most (Ralph on Happy Days), The Most Awards are a sort of stream-of-consciousness commentary on whatever caught my fancy or whatever I think is worth making a snide remark about that I somehow missed. May I have the envelopes, please?

Most Bizarre Usenet Discussion — “Borg breasts.” There may have been stranger discussions than this one (’cause Usenet’s a big place), but I couldn’t help but notice the extensive thread entitled “Borg Breasts: What They Mean to the Collective” as a consequence of the introduction of “7 of 9” to Star Trek: Voyager. Apparently the fact that actress Jeri Ryan is well-endowed (I say “apparently” since, for all we know, she was built up for the role) sparked a lengthy discussion as to the nature of, and need for, the aforementioned mammaries.

Some wondered why the Borg wouldn’t simply remove women’s breasts upon transforming them into Borg. I dunno—nobody seemed to speculate as to whether they freed Picard’s willy when he became Locutus. Other fans wondered if perhaps the breasts served as some sort of liquid containers, leading me to ponder whether they, in fact, have spigots instead of nipples and Borg women make “glug” sounds like water coolers. In the final analysis, I think the Borg should change their calling card to “We are the Borg. You will be T&Assimilated.”

Actually, 7 of 9 dovetails into a subcategory that I call:

Most Personal Irony — When I wrote a Trek novel called Vendetta in 1991, it featured a female Borg whom the crew of the Enterprise brought aboard the ship and divested of Borg accoutrements and whose lost humanity they tried to recapture. Although the proposal was initially accepted by Paramount (else the book wouldn’t have been written), after the novel was finished, it was rejected by a flunky of Gene Roddenberry’s office because, we were told, there were no such things as female Borg.

This seemed preposterous; they assimilated entire cultures—but only the men? Was Borg society based on Orthodox Judaism? The existence of the female Borg seemed a given. Nope, no female Borg, we were told. “Change it,” was the dictate from the flunky. Well, it was too late to change it. The book was already being typeset, and the cover, with a female Borg, had been printed. So Roddenberry’s office insisted upon a disclaimer that read, “The plot and background details of Vendetta are solely the author’s interpretation of the universe of Star Trek and vary in some respects from the universe as created by Gene Roddenberry.”

There would have been an audio version of the book, but the audio division wasn’t allowed to adapt it because of the disclaimer. Since then, with the introduction of the Borg Queen and 7 of 9, the universe caught up with the book. But the disclaimer is still carried on the book (and fans still ask me about it), and there never was an audio version. Resistance is futile. So is common sense, sometimes.

SF Movie Dialogue Most Deserving of an MST3K Response — In Starship Troopers, “Doogie Nazi” Neil Patrick Harris, looking stylish in his Gestapo ensemble as psychic Colonel Carl Jenkins (these are the good guys, remember), informs his former schoolmates-turned-troopers that they will be returning to a Bug-infested planet that’s designated in an alphabetic manner. The line (say it out loud): “We’re going back to P.” To which the obvious response is, “Well, you should have thought of that before you left.” Twenty-six letters in the alphabet; they had to use that one. I wonder if there are outtakes of Harris breaking up or pleading for the planet to be called anything else.

Most Aggressive Attempt to Pick a Fight With Me — Kevin Smith. Boy, am I tired of fans asking me what I intend to “do” about the noted director apparently having singled out Aquaman for repeated critical assault. Well, nothing. Life’s too short to get dragged into a feud with a director whose work I like. Besides, the last thing it would be appropriate for the writer of the Sea King to do is rise to obvious bait.

Most Significant Science Fiction Dates This Year — Oct. 16, Aug. 29. This one was a tie.

Oct. 16, 1997, was the date that the legendary Jupiter II took off and, in short order, became lost in space—prompting a TV series of the same name. This anniversary got proper attention from the media, not to mention the show’s current home on the Sci-Fi Channel, which sponsored an LiS marathon—including my personal favorite, “Return from Outer Space,” in which Will Robinson found a transmat beam and sent himself back home—except that no one would believe that he was who he said he was.

The episode suffers in retrospect. For instance, at one point Will said that his parents were ten light years away, but on the other hand, he said they’re clear in another galaxy. Also, it’s usually amusing to see how the future is depicted in the movies. Sequences that are set thirty years in the future usually feature flying cars, incredibly “futuristic” clothes, etc. Not LiS. Apparently forgetting that the series was supposedly set in 1997, Will landed in a town that was not only hopelessly behind for 1997, it was antiquated by 1960s standards. The phones had no dials, instead being fed through a switchboard run by a 50-year-old woman. A photographer’s camera was a massive affair. One almost expected to see Sheriff Andy Taylor lounging at the corner. However, amazingly, the drugstore did stock nice big bottles of carbon tetrachloride, something that I can’t even find at my local (and massive) CVS pharmacy—although my druggist did admit that, in some extremely rural areas, carbon tet might be available for various purposes, such as dry cleaning for people who don’t live anywhere near a dry cleaner.

However, the Jupiter II would never have had the opportunity to lift off, were it not for Sarah Conner. That daring freedom fighter managed to stave off judgment day, cited as Aug. 29, 1997, the day that a duplicitous supercomputer engineered the demise of mankind and established the future seen in Terminator and T2. I hear scuttlebutt of a Terminator III. I sure hope not. It’s hard to believe it could be as satisfying as the first two.

Most Welcome Return to Editorial — Chris Claremont. A productive year for Chris, who is the father of twin boys with his lovely wife, Beth, and has now been hired in a creative position at Marvel Comics. Chris is expected to put the creative personnel at Marvel through their paces. He’ll be looking for writers to rethink characterizations, refine plotting, develop greater focus, make the comics easier to understand for newcomers, and, of course, be prepared to answer the quintessential Chris Claremont question: “Is there any reason this character can’t be a woman?”

Most Giggle-Inducing Poster — Eye for an Eye. It’s hardly a new movie, but at a convention they were auctioning off, for some reason, a poster from the aforementioned Sally Field film. It features an angry Field holding a gun in a double-handed grip and looking really steamed. I’m sorry, I think she’s a wonderful actress and all, and I even saw the film (it wasn’t half bad), but I just have difficulty buying Sally Field as an engine of revenge. I wanted to take the film poster and retitle it Gidget Goes Postal, with the promo line “She shot me, she really, really shot me.”

Most Nutso Fan-Created Toy I Heard About — “Tickle Me Emperor.” Star Wars novelist Timothy Zahn told how some thoroughly demented fans got a plush Quasimodo from Disney’s Hunchback, opened up its back, and inserted the innards from a “Tickle Me Elmo” doll. Then they designed a hooded black robe, draped it over Quasimodo, and presto: “Tickle Me Emperor” as not seen in Return of the Jedi. The Force is silly in that one.

Most Babylon 5-esque Title for a Film — Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, based on the bestselling book of the same name. Doesn’t it sound like a typical Joe Straczynski B5 episode?

Most Frustrating FBI Case — TWA Flight 800. The FBI, after investigating for months and months, comes to the conclusion that there was no criminal action involved in the destruction of the Europe-bound flight and, therefore, nothing else for the FBI to do. Am I the only one who feels that it’s about time they stopped messing around and assigned Scully and Mulder to the case?

Most Unexpected Use of a Cartoon Theme — Honda. There’s a commercial for the Honda Accord that shows an executive-type descending to a Green Hornet-esque secret garage, complete with swiveling floor, and climbing into his Accord after several other models prove either unready or inadequate. And during the commercial, a familiar theme song is playing. It’s the music from the old Courageous Cat cartoon, the Batman-esque adventures of a cat-and-mouse superhero team created by Bob Kane.

Most Embarrassing Repetition in This Column — Babearlon 5. In January of this year I wrote a column telling “the bear story” in relation to the now-infamous stuffed bear that showed up in both an episode of Babylon 5 and Space Cases. And then, months later, after a summer of telling the stupid story repeatedly at conventions, I clean forgot I’d already written it once and rewrote the whole dámņëd story over again in another column. The one bright spot is that some readers who noticed it said, “Aren’t his editors supposed to catch stuff like that?” So fine. It’s their fault.

Most Disbelieved Claim — The Fighting American artwork. Rob, you wanna recycle the Captain America pages? Go ahead. But c’mon, don’t tell people that’s not what you were doing.

Most Amazingly Humorous Treatment of an Amazingly Non-Humorous Topic — Doonesbury. There is nothing funny about Alzheimer’s disease. Not a thing. Yet Garry Trudeau remarkably charts the genteel Lacy Davenport’s wrestling with the dreaded disease and manages to get genuine, if slightly black, humor out of the situation. One assumes that Trudeau will stop short of depicting the disease in its bleaker stages, but, nonetheless, he deserves credit for embarking on a subject that most people wouldn’t think to touch. Runner-up — For Better or For Worse, as Ellie has to wrestle with young April having picked up a case of head lice.

Most Frightening Casting Notion — Just imagine a movie that stars Hugh Grant, Jeff Goldblum, and Bob Newhart. With all three stammering, hesitating, and stuttering out their lines in their trademark manners, a film that would ordinarily run 90 minutes would probably top out at two and a half hours.

(Peter David, writer of stuff, can be written to at Second Age, Inc., P.O. Box 239, Bayport, NY 11705.)