James T. Kirk would solve the Ai issue by talking ChatGPT into killing itself

I absolutely love the casting for the AOS movies because yeah Chris Pine kinda looks like a yassified Jim Kirk, and Zachary Quinto does look like a younger Spock. But then they looked at big, tall, broad shouldered, muscular action man Karl Urban and went. Yeah, I think he can play scrawny bean pole shrimp postured, looks like a light gust of wind would blow him away, Leonard McCoy. And by god, were they correct because it was like the spirit of Deforest Kelley himself possessed him to play Bones.

tbh though if i were mccoy i’d be pretty fucking fed up with spock too. imagine you’re a doctor, you dedicate your life to learning how care for hundreds of different life forms and species across the galaxy, and then your wife divorces you, which leads you to enlisting as a doctor for starfleet. this is WAY outside of your comfort zone, you hate adventure and you’d rather be sittin on a porch in the sun with some sweet tea in hand and your daughter on your knee, but you ain’t got nowhere else to go, and who are you if you aren’t a doctor? you’ve dedicated your whole life and so much more to healing. so you enlist, you get assigned to a starship. not your dream job, but if there’s one thing leonard mccoy knows how to do it’s treat patients. and then THIS MEDICAL MARVEL MOTHERFUCKER comes in with his fucked up gene spliced half human half vulcan biology and the rarest most obscure blood type even among vulcans with ZERO precedent for his existence or medical baseline and also happens to be THE WORST PATIENT IN HISTORY. REFUSES to sit still and follow instructions. always making smart ass comments about your silly human emotionalism. you’ll get insane fucking readings and be like “spock i think you’re dying” and the bastard will answer with a straight face “yes. that’s just pon farr.” “can you tell me how to treat it?” “no.” and then just walks out of the fucking sickbay. you’re constantly busting your ass trying to figure out how to keep this human-alien catboy mix’n’match medical nightmare from hell alive and healthy and all you get in return is backhanded compliments from an emotionally stunted fruit. and you can’t even complain about it to your best friend because he’s too busy doodling this obstinate motherfucker’s name all over his notebook while eye-fucking him on the middle of the bridge. hell i’d be an alcoholic too.

i hate high-budget star trek you have no business with that. put a unicorn hat on a cocker spaniel. wear felt

Realizing that Amok Time, from T'Pring's perspective, is basically the equivalent of a Vulcan Hallmark Movie, where a holiday (Pon Farr) makes our hero realize she wants hometown boy Stonn and a simple (Vulcan) life instead of big-city (space) boyfriend Spock, and it all comes to a head in an embarrassing misunderstanding in front of her family, is certainly making me feel some kind of way

I will never watch this episode the same again.