[For my daily workout, I'm pedaling on a recumbent exercise bike while watching Star Trek: The Next Generation. I'm posting my reviews here.]
(196.2 pounds)
I’d almost forgotten how filthy, backward, drunken, and opportunistic the Irish are before this episode reminded me. Whew! And I was about to hire one to reshingle my barn.
(Though their women are rawr-worthy, if Brenna O’Dell is anything to go by. So maybe that makes up for it.)
What a train wreck of a story. A colony ship splits into two factions, one comprised of prudish technophilic clones and the other comprised of the cast from Darby O’Gill and the Little People. The clones are losing their genetic pool, and the Irish have lost their planet. The solution? Yeah, just what you think–though there’s still time for Riker to sleep with Hottie O’Gaelic before everyone has to have three spouses.
Which shouldn’t be a problem at all, with plenty of liquor to be had. In fact, you should probably have a few Guinnesses yourself before trying to watch this.
My grade: D-. You know an episode is bad when you find yourself thinking, “Hey, I kind of like that Doctor Pulaski.”
I’ll never think that, sir.
Pretty bad, I’d probably go ‘D’ just because I can still chuckle at some of the lame jokes.
Drunky O’Stereotype: “What would happen if I was under it when [the fire suppression system] went off?”
Worf: “You would be standing in a fire.”