Message for Your Mother? Yes; Tell Her, the Last Two Episodes Were… Fine

So Walker and I got up early to watch the two episode drop of Season Three of Strange New Worlds. We suffered through the pointless Alien ripoff with the put-everything-back-where-it-was ending of fooling a whole race of lizard-based interlopers into a long hibernation so it’s Spock’s problem in fifteen years or whatever and who cares because this is another timeline and you don’t have to pay attention if you don’t want to. Just like no one can give themselves their own nickname, you absolutely, 100% cannot throw in some journeyman actor and tell us he’s Captain Kirk in a show where Anson Mount is Starfleeting it up all over the place. We’re all waiting for an end we know is coming, and it’s not going to be good. At the very best, it’ll seem like an honest effort in replicating glory days, and Springsteen already did a song about that.

Anyway, Walker and I were talking about the stuff we loved, Erica flies the ship even though one of her hands got digested (and, true to specs, is not even mentioned again despite being speed-healed, ostensibly, at the commercial break), Scotty starts his slow descent into self-medicating at Spock’s fake bachelor party, Rhys Darby crushed the thankless task he was given, and Peter David’s Q-Squared from two years before we got married is apparently canon, now.

Mimi came in and listened briefly to the end of our righteous indignation at what they’ve done to Those Old Scientists. She asked quickly, this is the start of Season 3? We said yes, two more seasons to go, weirdness about Skydance, political maneuverings, contracts, nonsense, and she interrupted us.

Watch something else, it’s not like they care, she said. They’ve already told you the show is over and nobody is going to remember this show as anything other than a nice-try footnote.

…

We went back to what we were doing (sending out copies of Jack Fry to the kids), because what is there to say after that?