SPOCK DOESNT LOOK LIKE SATAN WHY ARE THEY SO MEAN TO HIM LET ME THROUGH THE FUCKING SCREEN IM GONNA BEAT

Balance of Terror is probably, up to that point, Kirk in his most perilous situation. It is full battle mode where if he makes so much as one wrong move, he risks death. Not too mention potential war against an enemy that he knows little to nothing about. Thus, for the vast majority of the episode, we have Kirk in Full On Captain Mode... except for one scene.

It's been hours now since the battle against the Romulans has started. At this moment, the Enterprise is a sitting duck and all that they can do is wait. Which gives Kirk plenty of time with his thoughts and in turn, his doubts. Doubts that he cannot let anyone see under any circumstances. Even when Rand, his personal Yeoman who has seen him at his best and worst, comes to see if he needs anything, the mask stays put. There's no point in bombarding her with what he's feeling internally and freak her out. That's not a luxury that he's allowed.

Well... save for one person.

As soon as McCoy walks in and Rand leaves? Kirk is noticeably more at ease. You can even see Rand realize it and leave, allowing McCoy to help the Captain when she clearly isn't going to get anywhere.

It's only then that Kirk feels comfortable talking and letting his doubts be visible. It's the one vulnerable moment that he lets show in the episode, feeling the pressure as his men to look at him and the fear of what happens if he's wrong. If you think back to The Corbomite Manuver we had a similar moment where McCoy tried to talk to Kirk, but while Kirk was at more ease, he didn't want to hear it nor did he let himself really open up. He doesn't even use Bones then, which sure it's probably because they hadn't thought of the nickname yet, but in-show you can interpret it as Kirk remaining in professional mode even to the guy who has it in his job description to see to his mental health.

Not that McCoy is there just because it's his job, of course.

From what we can tell, McCoy went to Kirk on his own volition. He wasn't called or anything, he went to go make sure that Kirk was doing okay. He's been in Sickbay for the majority of the episode and hasn't exactly been able to make time to go check on the Bridge Crew, especially not Jim. Now that he can, he's just there to let Kirk air out whatever he's been bubbling in for so many hours , as he always does.

But Kirk doesn't need McCoy, his Chief Medical Officer and essentially therapist, right now. And he clearly needs more than a soundboard to vent his feelings to. What Jim needs is Bones, his best friend and confidant. You even have McCoy, once Kirk's done talking, start to go 'Captain I-" before he's cut off, still somewhat in that professional mode (maybe even remembering the last time he spoke out of line in a tense situation ala The Corbomite Manuever). That's not what's needed. Kirk didn't expect an answer, but McCoy stops him. He outright says that he normally doesn't talk to 'a customer' like he is now, which goes to show how much he views Jim as far more than a patient or as the captain of the ship. Kirk is, first and foremost, his friend, and he needs some kind of reassurance right then and there.

And that's exactly what he gives.

MCCOY: But I've got one. Something I seldom say to a customer, Jim. In this galaxy, there's a mathematical probability of three million Earth-type planets. And in all of the universe, three million million galaxies like this. And in all of that, and perhaps more, only one of each of us. Don't destroy the one named Kirk.

Just that bit of assurance and Kirk is good to go. And I think he needed it from Bones specifically. Bones, the one person that Kirk can really be himself around. The one person who he's allowed to be vulnerable around. The one person who has always been there to ease him and help him process his feelings, as we've seen already in episodes like The Enemy Within. And even with McCoy worried himself, even having voiced concern about the gamble that Jim is taking earlier in the episode, he still trusts him and has faith in him. And unlike The Corobomite Manuever where he provoked an argument and had his priorities skewed, McCoy knows what Kirk does and doesn't need right now, and he delivers.

IDK, I just love these two so much and I need to voice it for the world cause dang it, someone has to!

Can I also say how touching it is that Stede said he believed Ed would he happier without him, who, even in his fantasies, could only picture Ed wanting him as a picture of masculinity with a beard and no hesitation to kill. Stede still, deep down, doesn't understand why Ed would ever want him as he is.

But who did Ed see coming down to rescue him? It wasn't a manly recreation of Stede with a beard, masculine style and a killing spirit, it was a merman. Someone bright, colourful, by all accounts a rather feminine perception of Stede.

That was who rescued Ed. It wasn't who Stede thought he needed to be, it was someone soft, and bright, and graceful, and expressive. Someone feminine, someone queer.

I just think that's beautiful.

I do think that Coryo fell in love with Lucy Gray, but i also fully believe that such love would never have been possible had he not be given the near-total control over her fate in the games, and by extension, her fate in the Capitol.

Listen. Here is a boy who has nothing but his last name, posing around pretending like he owned everything while scrambling for a scrap of something. Here is a boy who had to share everything he had ever owned, who was never fully in control of anything except for his words.  Here is a boy, who, due to the lie he's been controlling, can never let anyone in -- not even his pseudo-older sister and not even his most affectionate classmate -- for it poses the risk of being perceived, and potentially punished for his lack of ownership.

And then suddenly this boy -- who's so desperate to own something -- is granted the ownership of another person  a full-pass to control everything about her; her words, her image, her story. And sure, she wasn't his first pick, but the thought of having something gave him a sense of relief and dignity his lies could never give him, and that dignity, that slight restoration of confidence, gave way for that first crack on his chest after being guarded for so long.

And then the person he "owned" showed up, and she was the most interesting person of the pick. She gave the people a show and she made a song on top of it, turning his confidence to pride. I truly believe that had he been assigned to another person, he would not have showed up to the train station, simply due the fact that they were not interesting enough to warrant his  visit -- or his grandma'am's roses. Him showing up to the train wasn't just done in goodwill; it was also a stake of ownership -- it was him, acknowledging to himself that this was something worth owning, and like other things worth owning, it could be taken away from him if he lets his guard slips.

And that becomes the initial foundation to their interaction; the talking, the bringing up food... sure, Lucy Gray was interesting, but he was detached of her charm in those first meeting, seeing her in the lens of how others might measure her and her worth. his main focus was "taking care of her"; making sure his precious thing survived, making sure his ownership of her -- and thus his pride -- will not dissipate.

And then the tributes started plotting to kill him, only to be stopped by Lucy Gray. Sure, for her, he might seem as if he was doing something a kind -- even if useless -- meeting her in this run-down train station, and that perhaps was part of the reason why she defended him, and part of the reason why she stood by him in that Zoo cage. But for Coryo, his visit was calculated, his rose a chip of bargain, his zoo visit a byproduct of refusing to be caught slipping. For him, Lucy Gray stepping up for him was uncalled for, a surprising kindness.

He tried to rationalize it best as he could, but he was stumped. And I think this was when he started to really listen to Lucy Gray, to stop being detached from her. He was his father's son, and he believed in knowing the things he owned in order to properly maintain it. And it was this desire to know that melted his walls, that made him vulnerable, because to understand her fully he opened himself up to be understood, which had never happened before.

I think Coryo did love Lucy Gray, however tainted and terrible that love was. I think it was the first time of him making the effort to perceive someone and be reciprocated back -- fully, thoroughly, and wholeheartedly. It helped (or didn't help?) That Lucy Gray was a poet, that she fed him with pretty words; the only things that -- up until she showed up -- he'd ever truly owned for himself. For him, that connection -- added over the fact that he had "owned her", as everyone else kept saying -- must have felt like a drug. It must have felt intoxicating, to own something so lovely, something that adored him. It must have been a new, exhilarating feeling for Coryo, who never owned anything but worthless scraps and his pretty, pretty words. And yes, that was such a terrible way to put it, but love is many things; it can be terrible too.

I think Coryo loved Lucy Gray, and had they stayed in Capitol, he would have been able to continue to "love her". Billy Taupe was just some name, the Covey some story. What for Lucy Gray was history, was only pretty words for him. For all he chose to believe in, they could be the same pretty words he said; mostly lie, some exaggeration. In the Capitol, she is his, fully. And Coryo can love only what he owns.

But they didn't stay at Capitol, they moved to twelve. Suddenly, all her pretty words were honest and real, something he couldn't ignore, much less control. Suddenly, there was the Covey, and Billy Taupe, and Mayor Lipp, and even if her eyes were for him only he still had to share the rest of her -- her voice, her charm, her poise -- with other people. Twelve highlighted that he'd never truly owned her, we all know that. But here's another thing that twelve highlighted; it was him who chose to be the soldier in a rundown district, him who chose to follow her. If there was any ownership to be had here, it was her that owned him.

And Coryo? He doesn't share, yes, but worse than anything, he despises being owned.

This is where TBOSAS shone its brilliance; president Snow is the way he was not because he is an unfeeling sadist the was Volumnia Gaul is. He was the way he was because of love. Because of the vulnerability that comes with that love, and the refusal to surrender to it. President Snow would not be as ruthless and despicable had he been desensitized, and it was his feelings, his capability to love, that led him to employ some of the most gruesome tactics to win the games.

Here's the heartbreaking thing; once upon a time, Coryo loves Lucy Gray, and that love was true. Here's another heartbreaking thing; that love was built on poison, and its toxic vines ruined him so completely, decimated him so thoroughly, he was reborn anew evil; president Snow would not have happened without Lucy Gray, without Coryo's time in Twelve.

President Snow said, "it's the thing we love most that destroys us," and he said this as a warning to Katniss, yes, but he also said it to Coryo's shadow, standing behind her, who was looking at the back of the Girl on Fire, thinking the wavy black hair and the whispered songs were that of someone else's.

Adam, Spock, and Eve -- an Analysis on The Apple from TOS

“The LORD God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to till it and keep it”, in a promised vow Adam and Eve swore to allow themselves to remain blissfully unaware of the nature of sin or face divine punishment for eating the apple that would give them this knowledge. Star Trek season 2 episode 5, "The Apple", captivates viewers with its exploration of these themes of autonomy and the consequences of blind obedience in the face of authority; or so the episode tries to sell. I would argue that it does tackle these topics in an interesting manner, though not how the writers initially intended. The crew of the Starship Enterprise continually demean the autonomy and personhood of the people of Vaal, denying them the freedom of choice and posit themselves as white-knighted heroes who would fix the unjust systems of Gamma Trianguli Six. However, the landing party fails to acknowledge that they have been here for less than a day, and their understanding of the culture of this small part of the planet is flawed. Ursula K. Le Guin’s essay, American Sci-Fi and the Other tackles these themes, highlighting how limits in our perspective leads to the alienation and dehumanization of people and practices we do not understand, which results in a denial of their autonomy.

Le Guin outlines 4 forms of alienation that have become popular in contemporary Science Fiction – the sexual alien, the social alien, the cultural alien, and the racial alien. Though each comes from a similar vein of popularized ignorance, their manifestations vary greatly in Sci-Fi. The sexual alien in The Apple takes the form of the narrative treatment of female characters like Yeoman Martha Landon. Landon’s 14 lines throughout the hour long episode quickly characterize her as a character whose femininity undercuts her competence as an officer of the Starship Enterprise. Chekov and Landon share a brief, intimate encounter early in the episode,

MARTHA: All this beauty, and now Mister Hendorff dead, somebody watching us. It's frightening.

CHEKOV: Martha, if you insist on worrying, worry about me. I've been wanting to get you in a place like this for a long time.

The conversation gets interrupted by Kirk returning and asking them to not “conduct a field experiment in human biology”. Landon is one of the only characters regularly referred to by her first name rather than her title. While this could be attributed to her low rank as a red shirt, the four other redshirt officers are still often only referred to by their last names as a sign of respect.

"KIRK: Mallory! Marple, stand back! Watch it! The rocks! (kneeling by the body) Kaplan. Hendorff. I know Kaplan's family. Now Mallory.”

Yeomen in The Original Series are often almost exclusively young women, with a notable exception being the season 1 episode The Cage, where the male Yeoman is killed to show the competency of the villain of the week. Their role is to dutifully fulfill the petty orders given by their captain, such as light administrative work or ensuring the wellbeing of the captain and his surrounding male officers. These female Yeomen are often treated by the narrative to have the sole imperative goal to be “an object of desire for the surrounding men.” This is seen especially in The Apple, when Landon voices her concerns for the Starship she is told to be quiet and sit down by Kirk, or silenced by Chekov’s seductions. Her views, questions, concerns, and opinions are constantly used as punchlines for men, as though she’s too stupid to understand the complexities of what is going on around her.

“MARTHA: But these people, I mean, if they don't know anything about. What I mean is, they don't seem to have any natural– er. I mean, how is it, done?

KIRK: Mister Spock? You're the science officer. Why don't you explain it to the young lady.”

She is alienated from the rest of the cast for being a woman, and as Yeomen often are, the women of Starfleet “are also assigned a sexed identity in their professional lives, based on their supposedly “innate” qualities” of “modesty, sweetness, fear, shyness, compassion, [and] languor.”

The social alien is one that focuses on class and hierarchy, specifically, on the lower ranks of it. This form of alienation has many reflections throughout the episode – from Kirk’s treatment of Scotty as they struggle to pull the Enterprise from the tractor beam, to the Vaalian’s role of feeding Vaal. Those who are not leading men are treated as “masses, existing for one purpose: to be led by their superiors.” Those in the Starfleet are under threat of losing their jobs – their financial security and role on the ship – if they do not listen to their superiors. The Vaalians, however, must actively choose to listen to Vaal for their instructions. There is no threat of violence as they do not know what it means to kill, nor incentive for greed as they are already provided everything they need for a happy and healthy life. As the Vaalians go to feed Vaal – their sole role in exchange for eternal life and long lasting prosperity – Spock notes that in his view, this is “a splendid example of reciprocity”. 

This point of view, however, is heavily contested by Captain Kirk and Chief Medical Officer McCoy, and is a prime example of the alienation of the Vaalians and S'Chn T'Gai Spock as Racial and Cultural Aliens. Multiple times throughout the show, Spock’s vulcan lineage has placed him in an uncomfortable position in relation to Starfleet.

“MCCOY: Negative. Did you know this is the first time in a week I've had time for a drop of the true? Would you care for a drink, Mister Spock?

SPOCK: My father's race was spared the dubious benefits of alcohol.

MCCOY: Now I know why they were conquered.”

Many of his conversations with McCoy end with a quip from McCoy about how vulcan biology is inferior to human biology, how their culture is strange and alien to him. He complains about how Spock has green blood, and a heart closer to his abdomen than his chest, even after Spock nearly died protecting them from the deadly flora of Gamma Trianguli Six. McCoy also overdoses Spock, in a blind attempt to get him to wake up from the poisoning. While these could be read as light-hearted quips to maintain the lighthearted tone of the series in face of the Hamlet-ian deaths of the redshirts, McCoy’s refusal to learn about vulcans speaks to a larger theme throughout the episode of doxastic ignorance about other people and cultures.  

The Vaalians are repeatedly noted to be happy and healthy, as explained by McCoy, as he cannot tell if they have been around for “twenty years, or twenty thousand years”... “add to that a simple diet, a perfectly controlled temperature, no natural enemies, apparently no vices, no replacements needed”. Their only natural exchange for this is the gifting of some excess fruit to Vaal each day. McCoy takes issue with this manner of living, and that the Starship must intervene, stating that their society is stagnant, and needs something to strive for. However, Spock states in the episode that the Vaalians, as any other group of people, reserve the right to choose a system that works for them. This argument continues throughout the episode, and exemplifies their alienation of the Vaal due to their ignorance, as the human crew of the Starship attempt to overthrow the system of Vaal. They eventually settle on a final course of action, with the Starship trapped in Gamma Trianguli Six’s atmosphere – to kill Vaal. This response could be predicted by LeGuin’s explanation that “[t]he only good alien is a dead alien”, especially in the context of racial and cultural alienation. The Starship landing party alienates and subverts the autonomy of an alien community because their ignorance leads them to believe they are superior . Le Guin’s essay outlines precisely in each area how this episode creates divides in its cast, both between the Starship Enterprise and Vaalians, but within the Starship as well. At the end of the episode, Spock, McCoy, and Kirk ruminate on the consequences of killing a being who was providing for an entire community of people, and the starship leaving that community with nothing but their own wits.

SPOCK: Captain, I'm not at all certain we did the correct thing on Gamma Trianguli Six.

MCCOY: We put those people back on a normal course of social evolution. I see nothing wrong in that.

KIRK: Well, that's a good object lesson, Mister Spock. It's an example of what can happen when a machine becomes too efficient, does too much work for you.

SPOCK: Captain, you are aware of the biblical story of Genesis.

KIRK: Yes, of course I'm aware of it. Adam and Eve tasted the apple and as a result were driven out of paradise.

SPOCK: Precisely, Captain, and in a manner of speaking, we have given the people of Vaal the apple, the knowledge of good and evil if you will, as a result of which they too have been driven out of paradise.

KIRK: Doctor, do I understand him correctly? Are you casting me in the role of Satan?

SPOCK: Not at all, Captain.

KIRK: Is there anyone on this ship who even remotely looks like Satan?

(McCoy and Kirk walk around Spock. McCoy is gazing intently at Spock’s pointed ears.)

SPOCK: I am not aware of anyone who fits that description, Captain.

KIRK: No, Mister Spock. I didn't think you would be.

This is not to say all of Star Trek treats its nonhuman, lower class, and female characters with this lack of respect throughout the entire series, but The Apple speaks deeply to both Le Guin’s thoughts on Alienation and Patriarchal White Supremacy, and Star Trek’s need to appeal to the larger American audience in its messaging. Landon’s alienation stems from her role in patriarchal systems that would create a divide between her and the leading male cast; The Vaalian and Spock’s alienation is due to being foreign to a capitalist system that pushes for constant productivity, and being denied agency by those who believe their own views are the ‘correct’ ones. Considering the episode was released in America during the Cold War, it’s not hard to infer that this episode was cautioning Americans against communism. However, it treats everyone who isn’t coded as a Red Blooded American Man as mindless and abused, in need of a push in the right direction. This episode tries to speak for a better, more unified divine future – to take people from a corrupted garden and give them true Eden – but it regresses directly back into idealizing colonization in its efforts to homogenize any culture it can touch.

Works Cited under the cut

Boquet, Damien, et al. “Editorial: Emotions and the Concept of Gender.” Clio. Women, Gender, History, no. 47, 2018, pp. 16. JSTOR, https://www.jstor.org/stable/26934334. Accessed 10 Apr. 2024.

Hulshult, Rachel. “Star Trek: What Is a Yeoman & Why Did They Disappear from Starfleet?” ScreenRant, 4 Aug. 2023, screenrant.com/star-trek-yeoman-rank-disappear-why-explained/.

Le Guin, Ursula K. “American SF and the Other.” Science Fiction Studies, vol. 2, no. 3, 1975, pp. 208–10. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/4238969. Accessed 10 Apr. 2024.

Pevney, Joseph. Star Trek. 13 Oct. 1967, episode 31. TV Series Episode. The Apple.

Trivers, Barry. Star Trek. 8 Dec. 1966, episode 13. TV Series Episode. The Conscience of the King.

Vatican. “The Book of Genesis.” Www.vatican.va, www.vatican.va/archive/bible/genesis/documents/bible_genesis_en.html. Genesis 2:15.

big fan of airing order putting these right next to each other. i think that sad little drone is in itself a tragic romance more compelling than a lot of the plots intended to be read as such in this series

Can you imagine? Can you IMAGINE? Carrying the pain of loving him so absolutely, so irrevocably, and also the regret of never having truly given yourself to him. So years pass and you just watch him grow old and die, knowing you have a hundred years more to live and yet, you hold onto the pain, because it carries all the memories and emotions that you spent so long denying. In the end, you know that it is the only thing you have of him, an admition, a surrender, too late.

And then you find yourself in another timeline all together, where you and him are so young, so hopeful, but also, so naive, so easily fooled. Now you have to watch yourself pulling away from him all over again, deying everything, pretending not to love or hurt. And you just want to shake that younger version and scream: "You don't have that much time! Stop leaving him behind and hold him while you still can".

But you cannot. This is not your universe, and you have already fucked their lives up so much, how could you also tamper with this? So you step aside and let them discover it in their own time, hoping they have much more than you did. Clinging to the pain and memories once more, all you have left is the hope that someday, when your body is too tired to keep on living, he is waiting for you, and you will never have to be apart again.

Icebear!

i think hozier IS a like a mythical forest creature, but not in the way most people think. like he's a creature who fell in love with a marginalized human person and came out of the forest into the real world and realized how fucked up everything is and tried to do the Prometheus thing of bringing us fire but it backfired and he's in constant battle with the fae gods and now has to watch his human lover die so he's constantly talking about the horrors of the human world, but this is the place that gave him his lover so how can he hate it truly?

I am once again thinking about how in The Naked Time, Spock has an emotional breakdown after contracting the virus and cries about the regret he feels for not loving his human mother vs his shame he feels for his ongoing friendship with Kirk, but before he contracts the virus, Spock finds LOVE MANKIND written on the wall. And it's been written and discussed to death about what it means, I know this, but it's telling that Spock not only loves in spite of his Vulcan upbringing and continued adherence to their customs but that he holds regret and shame deep down inside because the love is still there, regardless.

Whereas Kirk likewise has his virus-induced breakdown over the opposite: his self-inflicted pressure to not love an individual, either due to fear of distraction from duty, losing his position as captain due to the ethical conundrum of "How can a captain date one of their crew?" (no, I do not know the details of how Starfleet manages crew relationships, but I'm assuming rank is an issue, especially where captains are concerned), or even the unspoken taboo of the show's production era, his sexual orientation, hence his focusing on the ship as the only safe and constant outlet for his love. But after this, Kirk finds SINNER REPENT written on the wall, as if to say his altruism isn't the full truth, as if what he desires is what he denies even with the virus lowering his inhibitions.

And like my god. What foils to each other! How damned telling the literal writing on the wall is for them! I am going to eat my fucking sweater!

I like reading Spock analysis because his character is absolutely awesome. Spock is a character that acts like a prim rule follower, but in reality, he has a complex set of internal rules, beliefs, and a strict moral compass. He is not necessarily a good person, depending on the point of view, but he is both empathetic and capable of viewing the bigger picture, and able to act immediately (but never rashly) while following his personal code. He might regret the outcomes, but he will stand by his choices as the best option available at the time. He is so interesting because he is a rebel, if he has to be, or a rule follower, if the rules agree with his code. He is immovable by the moral standards of society. And he doesn't bother making a scene of it, so most people never notice. But Spock only ever does what he believes to be right.