Quiz: Mulder and Scully vs. Lois and Clark in an easter egg hunt in Mordor. Who finds the most?


To Boldly Go...

These words helped launch the idea of Star Trek. We are explorers. We find our identity in our insatiable thirst for the unknown. This isn't just what makes us human--it's what helps us become more human. The search leads us to discover new parts of our own world, hidden parts of our own selves, that we must somehow make sense of. In the past, we have seen the unknown and sought to conquer it. In the future, Star Trek dreams, we seek out the unknown to understand it and to better ourselves. Why? Because we've finally realized who we really needed to conquer: ourselves.

These words, and more like them, comprise the gist of this blog: a kind of reflective, moralistic commentary on the great mythology of the modern age: sci-fi. The definition of sci-fi in this blog is rather inclusive, not exclusive. I may occasionally dive into some fantasy or even a few ancient myths and fairy tales. But the main focus will be on the standard understanding of sci-fi--specifically the space opera and space sci-fi subgenres.

Why am I writing this? Because sci-fi isn't just about neat stories, what-ifs, and whatever action sequences Hollywood can conjure up to appeal to the mainstream. Sci-fi is primarily an extension of the human need for mythology to understand our world. And why do humans need mythology?

Why, to teach us how to live, of course. Sci-fi, ultimately, is about the fairy tales we grew up hearing as children. Our parents told us those stories to teach us how to live. Sci-fi is no different. Maybe a little more mature, but not different in its essential goal.

So I see this blog as an opportunity to open up the themes of my favorite sci-fi art and explore their meanings for our lives. Think of it as a weekly sermon from the Church of Modern Mythology. Or an evening lecture with Professor Sci-Fi.

That's it. Class is now in session. You've read the syllabus. Let's get to work.