If you totally missed this interpretation, please be aware that your geek credentials will already have been auto-endorsed. Credit may be regained if you can explain wtf this sack might be, optically, _red_?

Thanks.

PJ, thanks–but I still don’t understand. In one breath, you say you like SF because you like to think. In the next, you describe how you have to shut off your brain in order to enjoy certain SF books and movies. See what I mean about the dichotomy?

But let’s leave that aside for the moment. Your comparison of Star Trek to Star Wars strikes me as apples to oranges. Let’s face it: Star Wars is fantasy, not SF. The Force, midi-chlorians notwithstanding, is a kind of magic.

I hold Trek to a slightly higher scientific standard than Star Wars, because Trek (for the most part) eschews magic.

Why don’t we try comparing Trek to Trek? I just finished watching Wrath of Khan again. Let’s compare the biggest extrapolative whopper in that film–Project Genesis–with Red Matter, shall we?

Like Red Matter, Genesis poses a lot of scientific problems, which any competent biologist, chemist, or physicist should be able to explain. But I still managed to buy Genesis, for purposes of the movie. Why? Consider the following:

We are told that Genesis reorganizes molecular structure at the subatomic level into life-giving matter of equal mass. We are shown a device–with the aid of some very cool computer animation–that effectuates said reorganization. The testing for the device follows a logical path–first in a laboratory, then in a lifeless underground, and finally on a planetary scale.

Note how skillfully we are being manipulated here.

The reorganization is at the subatomic level. Seems reasonable. The “equal mass” bit is a very nice touch–conforming to the law of conservation of matter. The device releases a great deal of energy, as we would expect subatomic fiddling to do. Furthermore, Dr. Carol Marcus demonstrates rigorous attention to detail by insisting that the test site be completely lifeless. “There can’t be so much as a microbe,” she says, “or the show’s off.” The scientists–especially David Marcus–are also well aware of the ethical minefield they’re negotiating. We even get to see Carol making a proposal to the Federation to get funding for the experiments.

All these details work toward verisimilitude. Not reality, not hard SF–verisimilitude. Exactly how Genesis works is never explained, but it doesn’t matter. The filmmakers do enough heavy lifting to make it all seem plausible, albeit just barely. So even though a part of me knows that Genesis is a load of hooey–and the older I get, the more ridiculous it sounds–even so, I’m still able to suspend my disbelief. And as a result, the film works.

The current Trek never achieved that level for me. It never even tried. What’s most maddening about this is that the filmmakers wouldn’t have had to work very hard to make the pseudoscience plausible. (Hell, the famous Genesis demo only takes about two minutes of screen time.) That they couldn’t be bothered to make the attempt shows a real disdain for their audience.

I submit, PJ, that you shouldn’t have to put your brain on hold in order to enjoy SF. I’m willing to work a little to suspend my disbelief. But I’m not gonna do all the work.

And you know, I think I’ve babbled enough here. If I haven’t made my point yet, I doubt I ever will. I’ll keep popping in to see if there are any responses, but I’ll leave the last word to others. Have at, and thanks for reading.

As a science fiction fan who doesn’t care about the science in my fiction (and therefore apparently some kind of bizarre paradox), allow me to illuminate:
Speculative fiction, as a genre, is just about the only genre telling the kinds of stories I want to read. Period. I like to read, and I’m not into Dan Brown or Tom Clancy or the various other authors in those genres, I don’t care to read about how America is great, or Iran is bad, or the Church has Big Bad Secrets. I find it tiresome. On the other hand, I like being exposed to new ideas. Basically, I just like to think. And I think that having a precisely calibrated scientific bullshit alarm would put a serious dent in my ability to enjoy myself.

So, a decade ago, when the Star Wars franchise started pumping out the New Jedi Order series, I didn’t throw a fit about how “it’s dumb that they’re calling a singularity a “void” when it’s the exact opposite” or “starships made out of coral could never work” or “Lightsabers are absurd because you can’t make a laser just stop 3 feet from where it starts, in open air”

Because if I’d gotten upset about those things, that’s 20+ books, all of which I really enjoyed, that I wouldn’t have read.

Why does the Space Shuttlle have all that ceramic stuff on the bottom when all you have to do to re-enter atmosphere is wearing a nice-looking, tight-fitting costume to avoid burning up?

My impression is that the Shuttle is dumping from orbital velocity, while all you’re worried about when jumping from a shuttle is terminal velocity with respect to a drill which is stationary over a planet.

personally I enjoyed the movie even if had to endure it dubbed in italian as I live in Italy (I’ll have to wait for the DVD to hear how it is in original).

I agree mostly with rick @147, but the scene I have most qualms with is the orbital jump to the drilling platform. Why does the Space Shuttlle have all that ceramic stuff on the bottom when all you have to do to re-enter atmosphere is wearing a nice-looking, tight-fitting costume to avoid burning up? The stupidity made me laugh, but didn’t ruin my experience.
(BTW the friend who went with me to the theather was wearing a fake red-shirt with the text Expendable on it, and during this scene half a dozen people turned to look at him maybe expecting him to burst into flames.)

Some of the other complaints raised:

A black hole can be orbited the same way anything else with a gravitational pull can be orbited. The problem wasn’t being “near” a supernova, it was being “in” a supernova. So if you can compress the star… then you just have to figure out where to get your light/heat/energy from! But it gives time to evacuate, at least.

The red matter couldn’t just be dropped into the oceans or something because it had to be raised above some threshhold temperature (ignited). Strapping it onto a missile, now…

“Red matter” is also not that far off from other names scientists have given things. Undetectable matter? Dark matter! Undetectable energy? Dark energy! Areas of such great gravitational intensity that even light cannot escape? Black holes! y’know, ‘cuz they’re dark…

If I had an emotional investment in the trek world, I would probably feel differently about taking that sort of thing for granted – I’d want to know how the discovery fit in to the rest of the world and the rest of their science, etc.

I don’t see any reason Christine Chapel would be “fated” to have a hopeless unrequited crush on Spock. That the first Chapel did in TOS was, per David Gerrold, mostly a dramatic device to highlight Vulcan emotional unapproachability and/or Spock’s internal conflicts.

Also, it should be remembered that she “fell in love with” Spock after her fiancee went nuts, created robots, fell in love with one of them, and got killed (or killed himself, can’t remember). Someone who prized logic over passion would have looked really really good to her after that, methinks.

Good point- where was the young Nurse Chapel? My guess is they didn’t want her presence interfering with the Spock/Uhura relationship.