![]() My excitement is swept up in the fandom’s, made their own, and they spit it back at me with twice the enthusiasm. ![]() I am not in control of my emotions, and that is completely, perfectly accepted. I am an alien as he is, and I find my alien culture in his fandom, and I find a peace that I have seldom known before. From that moment on, I am completely attached to him: Spock is now a vessel through which I can gauge my own interactions with the world, my own queerness. I know he is crying because he feels, because he loves his captain, and to him, to his culture, that love is irreversibly and inexplicably queer in a way I cannot understand but can completely sympathize with. But by the fourth episode you know with absolute certainty of their love for one another and Spock walks past graffiti that reads “love mankind” in red, secludes himself, and cries, “I am in control of my emotions… I am sorry…” You don’t think you’ve made the solid decision in the second episode either, although the Human leaps in front of his alien - and there is no doubt the alien is his - to protect him from the young boy who is as angry and confused and demanding as you sometimes feel. It’s not quite in the first episode, where they’re both whispering to each other behind the rocks as they crawl along the sand, their enemy shooting at them as they shoot back. You cannot define the exact moment you realize that she’s right, that these two men who are the main characters are absolutely and completely in love, one an alien and the other a man who is too large to be contained to Earth. You’ve been adjacent to the fandom your friend has just suggested to you, hearing others talk about it and seeing the screencaps and gifs, and so, doubtful because the show is as old as your father, you watch it. You like that you find kinship there with others who are as confused as you are but find comfort in making the same characters fall in love over and over in a thousand different ways across time and space. The main characters are in love.” You’ve been in fandom for awhile, bouncing from one to another - you enjoy how easy it is to explore those hard definitions and the blurry aspects of your own identity within the amorphous space of fandom, where nothing is solidly defined but everything is ever-shifting and as large as you want it to be, distant but far too close sometimes. You’re 17, almost 18, and you’re lost in that period of transition between high school and college, where you’re supposed to be an adult already but you don’t really feel that way yet, and your friend tells you about this show she’s been watching and says, “You’ll like it. Spock’s Vulcan philosophy of the IDIC (infinite diversity in infinite combinations), is nowhere more in evidence than at a Star Trek convention. The Star Trek ideal of delight in diversity - of taking pleasure in each others’ differences - as symbolized by Mr.
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