As goes Stephen King

"Some creatures are able to inhabit a space you never knew needed to be filled." -- Patrick Stewart, when still able to deliver a sexually enthralling line

Celebrity accounts on Twitter can be problematic, not just for the celebrity, but for those less successful with recognition: In a mere moment of vulnerability, Ken Wahl could make my heart flutter, despite the fact that binge watching Wiseguy wasn't about aesthetic pleasure so much as laughing at the hairstyle shags everyone wore in the eighties, with a sentimental teardrop, and James Woods, (sorely missed) might have floored my miserable self with any direct validation. Whereas Stephen King incurs my wrath, and when he liked my tweet, a caustic pin in his beatitudes toward being spared, it was all I could do not to rhetorically kick his hoary ass from here to Topeka. He isn't the worst suspense writer in the world, and Carrie tapped into the hysteria of puberty with a relevant timeliness. Some might argue that Shawshank and The Green Mile were structural masterpieces on the big screen that encapsulated American innocence as a main redemptive quality. The dowager begs to differ, and lumps all this in with a dismissive hand wave, Scott Bakula falling into the same category of mawkish obsolescence, Quantum Leap here today, gone tomorrow, but enough of a rolling credit to cast him as Captain Archer. Enterprise is one leg of the Trek expansion franchise with which I'm unfamiliar, and while the premise is sound, with a protean NASA patriotic pride from which Megan Rapinoe could learn to chalk a cue stick, Bakula simply can't carry Archer with any sense of majesty. Cogenitor might have been an episode about the history of the Prime Directive, and it might have attempted to be a delicate cur-in about queer repression, but the writers fall short both on Trip's heavy handed egalitarianism and Archer's conflicted regret, and even I, watching "Regeneration" last night, noted no one ever grappled with the fact there's no hint of the Borg in the original, and no tie in with the heady conflicts in the spin offs. I was certainly into it when Next Generation was the currency of its time. I also thought of sending Shatner a nostalgic love letter thread over the classic "Incident" with Joanne Linville but then thought the better of it. William Shatner the actor in the right context can struggle with demons, but his paucity for pity is self-evident in a constant projection of joviality as a florid old man who's lost his looks, the last of the first.

Not huge on NCIS as a square peg, either

Police identified the two women killed as Elizabeth Conway Nass and Rose Louese Mayr, both 2010 graduates of Mount Hebron High School from Ellicott City.-- an social media event

Once we dispense with the problem of Scott Bakula’s woodenness, we can examine Enterprise for its positive attributes, and these attributes reside in a neo realism that was rough around the edges, better synchronized than the original Star Trek, except for Roddenberry’s pilot, which was darker than Shatner’s hippocampus, and thus, the opening artic sequence of “Regeneration” harbored an insidious malevolence attached to it because it was conceivable that such an event could occur, even if it’s highly unlikely that the Borg exist in deep space. They will exist, one day, because our technological prowess on the verge of the future seems to insist that this collective bipedal beehive will occur, because we've transgressed from murdering black abolitionists like David Ruggles, or attempting to murder them, to arguing about the lack of American principles LLhan exudes and whether she's objectionable enough to have her citizenship reexamined, but what do they stand for? Not Marxism, but Google’s efficacy modules? Possibly, and this 21^st century starship team couldn’t, didn’t grasp the odds they were facing. They simply took action, and boom, a great villainy returns to its proper spin off, threatening the dignity of an actor with the best training the Royal Shakespeare Theatre Company had to offer. His moment of masterful dialogue in the holodeck, with an Arabian steed, was actually closer to: Some creatures have the capacity to occupy a space you never realized existed and needed to be filled.

This art of excellence, alliterated by a Briton who himself was diluted by popular projection of a commercial formula, is the light of humanity we're losing. Once it's gone, then it's gone.