Shakedown #134"
By: Favor, Medic / Morale Officer, [PST]

Stardate: 58203.01 0700

Ensign Favor's quarters

To: All Zion Crew

From: Morale Officer

Subject: Do Not Ask For Whom The Bell Tolls...

Good evening.

So, anyway, I was sorting through the holo-book lending library here, and I came upon some disks that I thought might be of interest to some of the crew. After careful perusal, I selected three, and decided to write up a few book reviews. So that will be our subject for today----books, reading, a dash of revenge, and a maternal admonishment at the end, for topping. Doesn't that sound fine? Doesn't that sound splendid? I thought so, too.

The first book is, I believe, a children's book entitled "The Klingons Next Door," by Pila Pomadaa (a Klingon). An oldie but a goodie.

Here's an excerpt:

See Lelaf. See Lelaf run. Run, Lelaf, run!

See Dick. Watch Dick flee. Flee, Dick, flee!

See Lelaf. Lelaf can throw. Throw, Lelaf, throw!

See Lelaf throw. See rocks fly. See glass shatter with a satisfying crash. See alien graffit spray-painted around the siding of Dick's house.

See the friendly policeman chat with Dick's daddy. They are so sorry that there is nothing they can do.

"It's racial discrimination to press charges against a Klingon," say the friendly policeman. "They have a right to wage war whenever they wish. Racial compensation trumps personal safety."

See Dick's daddy bluster. Bluster, Daddy, bluster. "I will complain to your superiors. I will call my Congressman," Daddy threatens.

"So sorry!" say the friendly policemen, edging towards their cruiser. "Don't blame us! We voted for Bev Peabody."

End excerpt.

Heh heh. This one is a classic, but it's so powerfully written! It gets me every time. That madcap Lelaf! Heh heh! There are some good moral lessons here, people. We could all take a page from Lelaf's book. There are no children on the ship at the present, but if there were, I would make this a required reading disk.

We also have "The Klingons Start A Prison Riot" by the same author, if anyone's interested.

Next I have "The Illogical Vulcan," by Ilsa Jorgansen, who obviously never met a Vulcan in her entire life.

Excerpt:

"Oh, Tiffany," cried the Illogical Vulcan. "I would crawl a thousand miles over broken glass just for a whiff of your perfume, or a single glance at your lovely face!"

Tiffany eyed the Illogical Vulcan. "Why not just buy a bottle from the perfume counter? Why not just gaze upon my photograph?" she asked. "Really, Charlie, there's no call for self mutilation." Tiffany rolled her eyes.

End excerpt.

This book is absurd. Dare I read more? Not without a bottle of Dramamine and a bucket at the ready just in case the need to vomit arises. However, if you're looking for some mindless fluff to read while you're in the bathtub, you're certainly welcome to borrow this disk. I wouldn't even mind if you "accidentally" dropped it in the bubbles (wink wink).

Lastly, I have "Love Medicine", by Louise Erdrich. Now I must tell you the history behind this particular disk.

I purchased this holo-book disk at a bazaar during a four-hour layover on the planet Rigel 65, from a greasy merchant with bad skin and yellow teeth. He proudly displayed his expired certificate proclaiming his membership in the Intergalactic Fraternal Order of Honest Merchants, outside his tent.

I looked over his goods, and picked up the disk and asked, "How much?"

"You can't have that one," he said. "It's my last one."

He would get another copy and ship it to me, he said. Trust him, he said.

I paid extra for express data transmission pod service. After all, if you pay the low-priority rate, sure, it might save you a few fengo, but my God it takes light years to get to you, doesn't it?

Well, I didn't get it and I didn't get it, and whenever I tried to send a hailing signal, the message bounced back to me, indicating that his receiver wasn't working. And when the thing finally arrived, I saw the big red "LOW PRIORITY" stamps all over it.

"That thieving BEEP!" I shrieked! "I paid extra for the express!"

But then I ripped apart the camel gut that held the package together, and out fell my disk, and I was so happy that I forgot momentarily about the BEEP's rip-off on the shipping charge.

Here's an excerpt, Love Medicine by Louise Erdrich:

Marie Lazarre, 1934

I was ignorant. I was near age fourteen. The length of the sky is just about the size of my ignorance. Pure and wide.

So when I went there, I knew the dark fish must rise. Plumes of radiance had soldered on me. No reservation girl had ever prayed so hard. There was no use trying to ignore me any more.

I was going up the hill with the black robe women. They were not any lighter than me. I was going up there to pray as good as they could. Because I don't have that much Indian blood.

And they never thought they'd have a girl from this reservation they'd have to kneel to. But they'd have me. And I'd be carved in pure gold, with ruby lips. And my toenails would be little pink ocean shells, which they would have stoop down off their high horse to kiss.

End excerpt.

Isn't that fabulous? Isn't that a wonder? Can't you just see into the marrow of this girl's life? Doesn't it lift the hem of her thoughts? I thought so, too.

So you can imagine my disappointment when I popped it into my holo-book reader, only to discover that some bored teenagers, who obviously weren't paying attention in English class, had deleted portions of the disk and rewritten love notes to one another, thus rendering the disk unreadable! Yes, love notes!

"Seth loves Jill," it says. Among other things.

I am quietly plotting revenge against this BEEPING merchant. I filed a complaint with the Bazaar manager, and in return, got the typical canned reply: "We regret that we do not assume responsibility for the actions of the vendors who buy space in our venue to market their goods."

But I will get him, yes. Revenge is a dish best served cold.

On a side note, I would like to take this opportunity to admonish you to consume your vitamins. Also, just because your mother isn't here aboard the ship, is no excuse to live off of junk food out of the simulator (or road kill, if you're a Klingon).

I'm not naming names, but I was reviewing the log files, and someone here has eaten ice cream for breakfast the past three mornings. People, do you have any idea the kind of havoc this wreaks on your cholesterol levels? I'm not saying that you can't have treats. I'm not saying that we all don't, at times, indulge in something tasty but nutritionless for breakfast. I'm as guilty as the next person. I'm just saying, all things in moderation, OK? OK!

I nag you because I love you. I nag you because I care. I nag you because this is what they are paying me to do. At least until the new doctor takes over.