The thoughts expressed by the totally fictional character of Captain in no
way represent the views of its creator, Maija Meneks.  They are also not
indicative of Anthony Butler, or Star Traks in general...which in turn is
not an attempt by twisted minds to blatantly create parodies of everything
hard-core space opera fans hold dear. 

This disclaimer is not a rant, either.





Guest Rant by 4 of 8, 
Subdesignation Captain, 
of Borg Exploratory-class Cube #347



     Improbable events...that whole topic gets my nanites in a bundle.
     For most of the universe, living is a simple and boring
occurrence.  Life follows a preset course:
(1)  You are born;
(2)  You mature; 
(3)  If you are sentient you get a meaningless job preparing fast food or
listening to the complaints of some idiot;
(4)  You hopefully leave a few offspring; and
(5)  You die.
     That is it.  The end.  Sure, there are a few exciting moments,
such as winning the lottery, or watching the local government take most of
the money as taxes, but all is otherwise normality at its best.
     Then, of course, there is the type of "living" Cube #347
encounters.  In the wider view of the universe, getting assimilated by the
Borg is on par with your average senseless preemptive strike by one's
stellar neighbors.  Stars are born, comets plunge into gas giants, species
struggle into the space age with a display of pyrotechnic brilliance,
temporal anomalies plague shipping lanes.  Meanwhile Cube #347...
(a)  is senselessly transported into the Alpha Quadrant by a series of
improbable events;
(b)  encounters an energy-based sentient that evolved in the confines of a
black hole; and
(c)  finds itself tossed back in time because of several idiotic mishaps
on the part of Federation crew who were already present due to another set
of infeasible occurances.
     While one, or even two, of these improbabilities might be taken
for granted, having odds of a million to one against an event shoved at
one's collective face every couple of weeks is a bit much.  It makes me
think that there is some grand scheme to the multiverse, even though
logically I must state that deities (or Directors as some unenlightened
species are wont to call them) are irrelevant.
     There, that is my rant.  Excuse me...it appears half of the
engineering hierarchy on Cube #347 has spontaneously turned into tribbles,
and the remaining crew are now displaying signs of a major onset of
allergies.  I would withdraw the Director remark, but I still believe the
whole concept is irrelevant.  Good day.