StanleyWheeler

There are many faults with J.J. Abrams' Star Trek (2009), but Karl Urban as Dr. McCoy isn't one of them. He succeeds much better at catching the spirit of Bones than do any of the other actors at capturing the essence of their characters from the old series. Here are a few of his too-few lines that I particularly liked:

"Space is disease and danger, after darkness and silence."

"I'm a doctor, not a physicist."

"Are you out of your Vulcan mind?"

"Green-blooded hobgoblin."

I can practically hear De Kelley's voice when Urban delivers those lines. And that's all I got to say about that. 

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Smoke has been available for pre-order for over a week. It goes live for your reading pleasure tomorrow. Don't dawdle. Get your copy while supplies last!

In my own reading this week, I started two new books. They were both books that I got for free for being a member of Prime. I had only intended to start one book, but things just didn't work out between us. It wasn't the book; it was me--by which I mean, of course, that it was the book. The author has a style that strikes me like an errant dental drill. The story started in that fashion, seemed to improve for a while, before falling back into that style. The style gave me the feeling that I was reading something written by a rather talented middle school student. I managed to make it over a third of the way through the book before I decided that I had taken too many drill hits to a sensitive nerve, and had to put the book down permanently. 

The second book has held my attention well enough that while reading it between scenes at the theatrical production this week, I became so engrossed in the story that I missed my entrance cue. I heard the stage doorbell ring; the door opened. A confused silence reigned briefly on stage; it got my attention. I looked up, wondering who was missing their cue. I hate when people miss their entrances. Such imbecility has a tendency to rattle the actors who are on stage at the time. I've been there; it's not fun. When the doorbell rang a second time, I realized that I knew precisely which idiot had missed his cue. So velocius quam asparagi conquantur,* I made my entrance. But I  wasn't quick enough to placate the lady whose boyfriend I portray in the play. She gave me the same look the alligator gives the antelope at the waterhole just before dragging it beneath the flood. Later, after she heard my mea culpa, she forbade me from reading between scenes. As far as she knows, I adhered to her directive.

*translation available here