Those long, sweeping arcs. It seems like a weird thing to mention now, because every random cop show or space adventure has storylines that carry on from episode to episode, more like serialized novels than collections of self-contained stories. But back when Deep Space Nine started, the idea of following "arcs," especially ones that went on for more than one season, was still more unusual on TV. For a Star Trek show, especially, it was considered weird to have so many continuing storylines.

Says Ron Moore in a new interview at TrekMovie:

The Enterprise, like I said earlier, could pull up to a planet and have an episode and keep going. With Deep Space Nine, anything that took place on the station, well guess what? Next week you are still on the station. And Bajor is not going anywhere. So really you had to keep playing those stories. You couldn’t make a big change in Bajor’s political structure in one week and then ignore it then next. You had to keep it going. Kira’s story with his relationship with Bajorans had to keep evolving and so did Sisko’s and they had a long-term mission. They had a mission about Bajor into the Federation. That alone meant that it was going to be serialized at least on that front.

By the time BSG started, of course, "arc" storytelling was more the norm, especially on genre shows. But at the same time, you can see Moore, plus Bradley Thompson and David Weddle, applying the things they learned on DS9: you'll often have an episode that advances one long-running plot while putting others on the back-burner.

The good terrorists It's hard to think of too many TV shows that portray terrorists sympathetically — and science fiction has two: DS9 and BSG. Quite possibly the most sympathetic character on Deep Space Nine is Major Kira, who was a "resistance fighter" on Bajor when the Cardassians occupied the planet. We hear endlessly about how she planned raids and bombings against the occupiers. We also hear the Cardassian side, about how they thought they were doing the right thing occupying Bajor, and how Gul Dukat, the leader of the occupation, wanted to win the Bajorans' love and respect, but they kept pushing him with their unethical terror tactics. Towards the end of the show, there's a wonderful reversal where the Cardassians are themselves occupied by the Dominion (because Dukat gave away the store) and Kira comes in to teach her former oppressors the tactics she used against them.

The Cylons, meanwhile, thought they were doing the right thing occupying New Caprica. They grasped at a chance for humans and Cylons to live together in peace and harmony — but those stupid, stubborn humans wouldn't go for it. (Actually, it turns out most of the "human" resistance leaders were Cylons too.) Col. Tigh defends his choice to use suicide bombers against all the doubters, saying it's no different than sending soldiers to their deaths in a viper or raptor.

The enemy among us. The Dominion, DS9's evil empire, is run by "changelings," shapeshifters who can look like anyone or anything. (Except for Odo, our friendly shapeshifter, who is a bit pants.) Honestly, DS9 didn't do enough with the "shapeshifter" plot, because if anyone can be a shapeshifter, you open the door for endless paranoia. Commander Sisko could be replaced by a shapeshifter at any moment, and so could Dax or Kira. The show only follows this plot to its logical conclusion a couple of times — once when the changelings infiltrate Starfleet Headquarters in "Home Front," and Starfleet imposes martial law. (Sisko finally realizes what a blunder this is, and there's a great speech about how if the changelings want the humans to lose their freedoms, they'll have to take them away themselves.) And the other time, a leading Klingon is replaced by a changeling and nearly starts a war. But for the most part, the "evil shapeshifters" plot goes on the back burner an awful lot.

In BSG, meanwhile, there are only a dozen of the Cylon infiltrators who could be anybody. This makes it a bit more manageable, even if you have to wonder why the Cylons don't have the technology to make dozens, or hundreds, of models. You still have the paranoia of knowing that Admiral Adama could have been a Cylon from the beginning — but he's not going to be randomly replaced with a Cylon halfway through one episode. It lets you have the "infiltrator" plot without having to back off its implications.

Divided loyalties. In DS9, Odo becomes one of the most compelling characters on the show because he discovers he's actually a member of the evil changeling race, which oppresses the Gamma quadrant and wants to take over the Alpha quadrant. Plus there's always Worf, who's torn as usual between his Klingon and Federation allegiances.

On BSG, meanwhile, almost everybody ends up being torn in half eventually — especially Sharon/Athena, who rejects her own Cylon kind to join the humans. And Helo, who marries her. And the four secret Cylons, who still have all their old human loyalties, but are brought together by their shared identity. It's a little more interesting than on DS9, because the Cylons are less blandly evil than the Dominion. It's more compelling to see people torn between two groups that have a valid claim on their loyalty than it is to see someone deciding whether to support good or evil. (And you never really think Odo is going to turn his back on the humans forever.)

The mismatched romantic pairings. The love story between Odo and Kira is one of the few really compelling romantic sagas in Trek — unless you think Troi/Riker is full of awesome. But it does have some problems, like Kira's decision to date Odo comes out of nowhere. And I was annoyed with Odo's "changeling bros before hos" moment in the finale, where he ditches Kira to go off with his own people. But still — Odo pines for her for so long, and they finally get together, and he turns into mist in that one episode and swirls around her. It's just too radical. And I actually loved the Dax/Worf pairing as well.

Meanwhile, BSG has nothing but mismatched pairings, especially the aforementioned Helo/Sharon marriage. Pretty much every marriage on the show turns out to be between a human and a Cylon — Saul/Ellen, Galen/Cally, Sam/Kara... the only people without commitment issues are Cylons. We won't know for a while yet if Helo/Sharon will have a satisfying resolution, but we already know how Saul/Ellen and Galen/Cally turned out. In both those cases, it wasn't a happy ending, but at least it was memorable.

The gods and prophecies. Few shows obsess about religion as much as BSG and DS9 have. Deep Space Nine has religion built into its DNA at so many levels, it's practically a religious allegory with space-opera trappings. Let's review: there are some mysterious aliens who exist out of time, whom the Bajorans worship as "the Prophets." The Prophets anoint Benjamin Sisko as their "Emissary," and it turns out they possessed his mother and arranged his birth. He's supposed to help them fight their evil counterparts, the Pagh Wraiths. Meanwhile, the Dominion worships its leaders, the changelings, as gods. It's interesting: in DS9, the non-Bajoran characters refer to the Prophets as "the wormhole aliens" — until somewhere in season three or four. You never hear the phrase "wormhole aliens" (I think) in the last few seasons of the show. And there's less and less doubt that Sisko has a holy mission on the Prophets' behalf. Sadly, it doesn't end that well — there's one episode where Sisko's son gets possessed and has to fight a holy battle, and it's both confusing and boring. And then in the end, the giant battle between the good gods and the evil gods turns out to be a matter of jumping off a cliff. And it's pretty clear the changelings aren't gods — they're just slimy shapeshifters who have tweaked their slaves' genomes or gotten them hooked on drugs, so they'll be worshipped forever.

I complain about the portrayal of religion on BSG, but I do have to admit it's a lot more subtle than on DS9. There are a few reasons for this. First of all, we never meet any gods on BSG. The Lords of Kobol and the Cylon God both have the decency to stay behind the curtain, giving people visions and causing coincidences. The more we see of the Prophets on DS9, the less impressive they are. And the more we see of the changelings, the less credible it is that anybody could worship them as gods — their "false gods" status gets too obvious, if that makes any sense. And usually when we see a religious experience on BSG, it's ambiguous. Someone has a weird dream sequence and then they (and we) have to puzzle it out. And as annoying as the Baltar=Jesus stuff has been, it's pretty audacious of the show to make its most repellent character into a guru. BSG has prophecies and books with funny names, just like on DS9, but they're usually oblique. and of course, BSG has the Gemenons, who are sort of the equivalent of the hyper-religious Bajorans.

In both shows, though, there's a "quest" aspect, and competing faiths. I'm holding my breath that BSG's journey of self-discovery and religious awakening turns out to have a more satisfying ending than DS9's did. In general, looking at the above list, it seems like Moore and co. have turned the lessons they learned doing DS9 to good purpose — so here's hoping.

1. People should dress like grown-ups. That means no pajamas. No shiny gold or silver fabrics. No GWAR gear. No matter what era you're writing about, professional people will wear clothes that allow everyone else to take them seriously. And space travelers will probably wear outfits that are functional and help keep them alive.

2. No jolly lectures. This is more of a book thing. When a character stands around for three pages explaining the author's philosophies in a cheery tone, it's the prose version of a giant glittery tiara. I'm looking at you, Robert Anson Heinlein.

3. Take off that shiny apron, robot! The robots of the future will be stronger, smarter and more durable than anything we have today — they'll basically be able to sever your spine with a flick of one of their little microfilaments. So it's understandable and desirable for robots to be cute or sexy to distract us from their genocidal potential. But "cute" doesn't have to include a silly cartoon voice, a catch-phrase like "beady beady" or a funny walk.

4. Rock music cannot possibly get sillier. There are limits to what even the brain-damaged tweens of the 22nd century will bop around to — and there's no way it could be dumber than Debbie Gibson or Aaron Carter. Barring radical brain mutations, future pop music will at least be sorta catchy and have a few okay lyrics. The worst is when a novel or comic book reproduces song lyrics of the future — and they're the author's bad poetry. Somehow, these things are always worse on the page.

5. Neologisms should be plausible. In other words, if you have a future technology, and you're coming up with a name or slang term for it, it should be something you could imagine grown-ups saying. Comedy shows us what not to do in serious SF, with the zany slang in Woody Allen's Sleeper: "It's not only cool, it's Koogat!"

6. Yay sex, but boo zany ironic dominatrixes. That's pretty much all I had to say about that.

7. Cut down on the eyeliner, Mr. Spock! Yes, it matches your blue top. But just listen to Yahoo Answers: light-blue eyeshadow looks "tacky and outdated."

8. In general, aliens should be alien, not human ethnic groups or stereotypes. This pertains to campiness because the number one cause of campy aliens is a failure to imagine a truly non-human lifeform. Instead of the shock of an organism whose life cycle and culture are totally at odds with ours, we get the wacky Jamaicans in Star Wars: The Phantom Menace.

9. And no more cultures with just one wise saying. If an alien race has managed to make it into interstellar space and develop artificial gravity, it might also be advanced enough to afford two great philosophers or schools of thought. Worst of all are the Ferengi on Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, who quote the Rules of Acquisition as if they're the only book Ferenginar has ever produced.

10. If you must have villains, make them awesome. Mike Meyers did us a favor creating Dr. Evil in the Austin Powers movies — by giving us a template for what villains should not be like outside of comedies. Villains can be scary, or understated, or believable people whose agendas are at odds with the hero's... but they shouldn't kill us with cuteness.

11. If you must tackle religion, avoid being woo-woo. That means no priests with funny outfits. Yes, priests dress funny in real life, but they're still campy on screen. That also means no prophecies, especially ones with funny names. Visions are okay, if they're more David Lynch and less Derek Jarman.

12. Musicals are inherently campy. Do you ever find yourself watching the Buffy musical episode, or Rocky Horror, and thinking, "Gee, I wish there was more stuff like this in my science fiction?" If so, then maybe you should spend some time in fantasy-land instead. People bursting into song and doing that thing with their hands is directly opposed to the willing suspension of disbelief thing.

13. Punk is campy. Maybe it wasn't in the 1960s, or whenever you guys invented it, but it is now. Sorry. That goes for regular punk (just watch Doomsday) as well as cyberpunk (watch the Matrix sequels) and definitely steampunk. Steampunk is camp-tastic.

14. Time-travel leads to culture shock, not Culture Club. Journeying to another era shouldn't be an excuse for Renfaire/Society for Creative Anachronism goofiness. I've seen enough pithy Victorians (especially on Doctor Who) and doughty Medievals to last me a thousand time warps. And our ancestors may have been less technologically advanced, but they weren't freaking morons. (Well, okay, some of them were.)

15. Robots shouldn't pee. They shouldn't pee on people. They shouldn't pee in space. They shouldn't "vent coolant" in the middle of a hot robo-fisting scene. Robotic urine just should not be part of our lexicon at all.

16. A certain amount of cheesiness may be inevitable in science fiction. Just accept it. The difference between cheesiness and camp is that camp is self-aware and deliberate, and cheesiness is a result of someone fervently saying, "We're going to have giant robots fighting for ten minutes and it's going to be stupendous! Yeah!!"

17. Don't go retro. Sky Captain and the World Of Tomorrow winks so hard at classic scifi it's got a permanent squint. The 1930s fin-headed scifi was the original reference point for much of the seminal works of camp, and earns a starring role in Susan Sontag's foundational 1964 essay on camp. So looking backwards will only make you look ironic and funnily subversive.

18. Absolutely no go-go boots or sparkles. And no epaulets. Or shoulderpads. Or giant buckles, or insignias that are bigger than someone's hand.

19. No more Angelina Jolie. She's cute, but she camps up every role she's in. Just look at Tomb Raider. And the aforementioned Sky Captain. She's the main reason why this summer's Wanted will be a huge camp-fest.

20. War is hell, but shouty-jumpy soldiers belong in Monty Python. Yes, we get it — you're subverting the deadly conformity of military protocol by having your soldiers act like loons. But a little bit of armed-forces wackiness and slogan-shouting goes a long way. And that goes double for Starship Troopers' fake war propaganda.

21. Don't confuse "campiness" with "fun." You can create a fun, exciting storyline without going the campiness route. Space battles can be adrenaline-blasting, without any need for funny computer voices or zany puppet aliens. We like to watch people kickbox on the the deck of a satellite that's breaking up as much as anybody. Just, you know, without the shiny pajamas. Movie screencaps taken from Wetcircuit.

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As you can see, Trek's crews have always treated the Prime Directive like a speed limit on the Interstate. But the high point of Prime Directive violations was the late 1990s, which surpassed even the late 1960s of Kirk's cowboy-ism.

At the same time, the United States was reducing its troop presence around the world. Why did Starfleet start interfering more, even as America was throwing less of its weight around? The late 1990s was an era of military spending cutbacks and base closures, when the U.S. seemed to be less influential without the threat of the Soviet Union to rally our own citizens, let alone our allies.

I know what you're going to say: It's all down to Star Trek: Voyager's Captain Janeway and her "anything goes" approach. But first of all, Janeway's not the only culprit. Ben Sisko on Deep Space Nine also played fast and loose with the Directive more in the late 1990s than in its earlier seasons. And the Federation also threw its non-interference principles out the window, in different ways, in both 1998's Star Trek: Insurrection and 2002's Star Trek: Nemesis.

But also, consider that Voyager is a metaphor for the U.S.' more confusing situation after the Cold War. Instead of being one superpower facing another (like the Klingons, Romulan or Borg) suddenly the Voyager is isolated in a quadrant full of independent players, each of whom has its own agenda. Just as the Soviets were replaced with Bosnians, Serbs and Kosovans and the U.S. had to form alliances to deal with messy situations, Voyager faces a bunch of warring races and Janeway has to strike deals with different races to escape in one piece.

All of which makes us wonder: If Star Trek were on the air as a television show now, and it took place during an era where the Directive applied, would we see fewer violations? After all, U.S. troop levels in other countries have rebounded, and we're once again involved in a massive confrontation overseas. Would a 24th century Trek step more lightly around the galaxy, to counterbalance the United States' greater use of force?

Illustration by Stephanie Fox. Additional reporting by Nivair H. Gabriel.

Here's a complete list of episode titles and writers for the first half of the season.

Starbuck: The first few episodes of season four are "all about Starbuck," says Jamie Bamber. She believes she's only been gone a few hours, but it's been seven months for everyone else. She's not the same as she was before, and may actually be dead. And not only does she claim to have been to Earth, but she has photos which she took from Earth orbit showing the pattern of the stars — matching the pattern they found in the Temple of Athena. She insists she's not a Cylon, and Ron Moore has pretty much confirmed it. But the President suspects her. It doesn't help her case that her Viper is in pristine condition.

And at one point, Starbuck gets locked up in the brig and has to break out. She may take the president hostage. There are lots of clips of her freaking out and shouting that the fleet is heading the wrong way, and they're going to have to kill her to shut her up. She worries she's been brainwashed or turned into a infiltrator..

At some point, Starbuck gets enough trust back to be put in charge of a Das Boot-esque ship called the Demetrius. She finds out about the prophecy that she's the herald of the apocalypse. Oh, and a leaked call sheet says later in the season, she finds a crashed Viper with her own dead body in it, and she puts fake dog tags on the body and lights it on fire, and Leoben is with her.

(Side note: Bamber mentions in the above clip that even Ron Moore and the other writers had no clue what was going on with Starbuck coming back from the dead, until they started working on season four. What the frak?)

Col. Tigh: We know, from preview footage, that he's incredibly paranoid about being found out as a Cylon — and he's scared that Starbuck knows. He insists in one clip that he's not going to let those bastards program him to go against his principles. But we've also seen preview footage of him pointing a gun at Admiral Adama in the CIC, and one source suggests he may actually shoot the Admiral non-fatally. He gets some scenes with his dead wife Ellen, which may just be dream sequences, and also screams for her in a pool of water. And at one point, the Cylon Six and Ellen sort of blend together. He did not pick this frakking life. Oh, and he's not hearing that frakking song any more. Thank the gods.

Baltar gets his own cult of worshippers. And maybe takes a non-Cylon lover. But even though he becomes a religious leader, he also preaches that the gods don't exist. (See clip.) (Maybe he preaches mono-theism?) And at one point, he gets captured by some fanatics who threaten to slit his throat, so he can give his life so God will save an innocent child. He chooses to give his life to spare the child's, and it gets as far as his throat actually getting cut. At some point, he meets up with the Caprica Six, and somehow he can see the Gaius Baltar that she sees in her head. The two of them even interact.

Anders has similar issues with being a Cylon. And when he's out flying in battle, he runs into a Cylon fighter, which scans him with its "eye" and refuses to attack him in the clip we featured a while back. (And we're guessing he's the hidden Cylon who "jumps ship" in the first few episodes.) Anders tries to come out to Starbuck as a Cylon, sort of, by telling her that he would still love her if she was a Cylon. But she doesn't react in the yay-Cylons the way he was hoping. And this causes a split between the two of them.

President Roslin is Starbuck's biggest doubter, judging from the clips. She seems to be asking Bill Adama at one point whether he's willing to risk his own death just to avoid losing her again. And Lee Adama seems to be accusing her of being power-mad and ruthless in another clip. She questions Cylon Six about the final five, and Six says they're in the fleet. Six can feel they're near. Meanwhile, her cancer comes back, and in episode six, "Faith," she's stuck in a sick bed next to Emily, played by Deep Space Nine's Nana Visitor, who annoys her by listening to all of Baltar's radio broadcasts religiously. But the two bond eventually.

The Cylons decide not to attack the human fleet any more, because the final five Cylons are on board and may not be able to resurrect. This supposedly leads to friction between Six and the other human-looking Cylons.

Six, meanwhile, gets a new incarnation this season, called Natalie, who wants to lead a Cylon revolution. Six opposes Brother Cavill because she decides his treatment of the Cylon raiders is unethical, and encourages the robotic Centurions to kill the other skin jobs. We've featured clips of her leading some of the robotic Centurions into a room full of other skin-jobs. There's a rumor that the Centurions are going to rise up against the human-looking Cylons in episode four, "Escape Velocity," because the skin jobs tried to restrict the Centurions' free will. The "skin jobs" debate what to do about the Centurions, and Brother Cavill says they're tools, not pets. Cavill gets a new love interest, whom he makes out with.

The second episode of the new season is called "Six Of One," and includes the Caprica Six and her mental version of Baltar.

Meanwhile, the Boomer version of Sharon is back in a big way, and does something to shock the other Cylons in one of the clips we've seen. Also, at some point the Cylons un-box the Lucy Lawless Cylon to find out what she knows. But two Cylon models may get wiped out altogether by Six's coup. At the same time, someone (Six?) wants to unite all the Cylon models.

Admiral Adama has a crisis of faith, maybe revolving around Starbuck's return. He's tired of turning away from the things he wants to believe in.

Lee Adama didn't take this job to help someone undermine the president. And he's made a decision that he can't explain, but which he knows he has to do. He does not return to active flight duty this season.

Does Lee Adama's new life path have something to do with the spoiler we reported this morning, that Tom Zarek leaks classified information to "a new colleague" for nefarious purposes?

Romo Lampkin comes back at least once during the first 10 episodes, and again during the last 10. And it sounds like his voice in that one promo clip telling someone they're a beacon of hope, and hope should be extinguished.

Cally is rumored to die in the third episode, "The Ties That Bind," probably by suicide. And the Cylonitude of her husband may be what drives her to it. (And it may not be coincidence that we reported this morning a leak that "someone" finds out the identity of three of the secret Cylons in that same episode.)

Misc.: There are all sorts of rumors about what happens when the fleet finds Earth. It's in ruins. It's in our 22nd century. There will be some kind of snakey plot twist. "Everybody's dying in season four, and I wouldn't be surprised if the ship was blown apart," says Edward James Olmos. There's a rumor the name of the thirteenth colony in the scriptures is "Cylon." Oh, and we totally predicted back in November that the final Cylon wouldn't be one of the big characters. (And that poll's still open!)

The biggest challenge in creating good starship feng shui is the fact that starships move around all the time. So you can't necessarily know which part of the ship will be facing "north." Traditional Earth-bound feng shui uses a special compass to locate the "ba gua" in a space, so you'll know where to position major features. But with a starship, those points of reference may not have any meaning, notes Janice Sugita, author of The Feng Shui Equation:

Since it is a moving object, the normal use of a compass for orientation of the qi does not apply in a "spaceship". Placement of the interior walls, doors and architectural features can alter the flow of qi that may be beneficial or not to the occupant. An example: if you place a desk or computer in the path of a sharp corner from a wall or column the occupant may feel unconfortable and not sit for long periods of time. It is the broken or disturbed natural flow of qi in the space that is directed to the occupant.

Human beings lived in nature far longer than they have lived in artificial, man-made environments, therefore it will be very important that space ships incorporate images from nature into the interior design of the craft. People are soothed by images of nature, so plants, images of nature, water features, and materials made from natural substances like wood need to be integrated into the design so that space travel becomes less stressful. It will be essential that human beings keep their connection to nature to balance all the cold, industrial feelings of machinery.

Perhaps plasma screens with nature scenes could be viewed throughout the space ship. Sounds of birds, streams, and ocean waves could be heard in the background, and perhaps a domed structure with a forest environment like the ship in Silent Running could be added so passengers would have the experience of a walk in a garden while on those long flights between planets. Anything to lower stress levels resulting from long periods of time out of a natural environment would assist the space travelers in finding rest and relaxation while on their galactic travels.

The Theremin Era (1950s-1960s). The emphasis is on weird noises and screechy howls. Sometimes, it's an actual electronic scream, as in the Doctor Who theme, or to some extent the Outer Limits theme. Sometimes, it's an actual human trying to sound like a theremin, like the Star Trek theme's crazy opera singer. Either way, the message is clear: This is some freaky shit right here.

The Disco Era (late 1970s-early 1980s). You can totally boogie down to the theme tunes of Amazing Spider-Man, Bionic Woman or Logan's Run the series. Some themes, like Buck Rogers, try to sound sort of "adventure-y" and bring up associations with John Williams' heroic theme tunes for Star Wars and Superman: The Movie. But mostly the message is: groovy times ahead!!! Put on some tight pants and boogie!

The Orchestra Era (1990s). The themes from the two Star Trek TNG spin-offs, Babylon 5, Andromeda, Seaquest and even Time Trax all feature heroic-sounding strings and soaring horns. There's a strong melodic hook, but it's not as toe-tapping as the themes from the 70s and early 80s. Message: Epic saga (with heartstring-yanking) ahead.

The Alt-Country Era (early 2000s). Okay, so this was just two shows: Firefly and Enterprise. But it still felt like a mini-trend, especially since these were half the SF shows on TV at the time. You had the twangy voice, the deep soul-searching lyrics and the guitar anti-heroing. "Take my love, take my land, but you can't take my faith of the heart." Message: It's tough out here on the frontier.

The Weird Wailing Era (mid-2000s). All of a sudden, shows like the new Battlestar Galactica and Heroes featured a Middle Eastern-sounding person in distress, or just voices going "oooh" in the background. The new Doctor Who had a boppier version of the original theme, but whenever the Doctor acted mysterious, you'd hear a distinct "ooooh" sound in the background. In many ways, it's like a throwback to the theremin era. The message it sends: This is some freaky shit right here.

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Famous names: Avery Brooks, Nana Visitor, Avery Brooks, Alexander Siddig, Ronald Moore, Ira Stephen Behr, Michael Piller, Avery Brooks, Rene Auberjonois, Michael Dorn, Avery Brooks.

Crunchy goodness: 4

Sights you'll never unsee: A remake of Tootsie, starring the Ferengi. It's actually much worse than that makes it sound.

The shit: The long-running storyline of Odo the uptight shapeshifter's desperate love for Kira, the former resistance fighter, is one of the few science-fiction romances that you actually give a crap about.

Most prescient allegory: The hunt for shapeshifters among the humans becomes a piercing metaphor for our rush to dismantle civil liberties in the face of a terrorist threat.

Star Trek Deep Space Nine Guide

Famous names: Gene Roddenberry, William Shatner, Leonard Nimoy, Deforest Kelley, James Doohan, Harlan Ellison, Theodore Sturgeon.

Crunchy goodness: 3

Spinoffs/Sequels/Copycats: Eleven films, plus Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: Voyager and Enterprise.

Sights you'll never unsee: The half-black, half-white space racists running through fake yule log flames. A big blob ordering Abraham Lincoln to wrestle Vulcans. Captain Kirk flying a starship into a space dildo. Spock flamenco-dancing. It goes on and on.

Life lesson: "You'll have to get your entertainment somewhere else." — Captain Kirk.

Most painfully dated moment: The planet where the Vietnam war never ended.

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