This episode’s book was something called The Bionic Bunny Show, though the YouTuber here cut that part out in order to focus on the real meat of the day: ruining Andy’s childhood fantasies.
Ha ha, no, I’m just kidding, of course, I never thought Star Trek: The Next Generation was real, per say. Really, I didn’t. When I learned that the transporter was actually a camera trick mixed with a shot of glitter in a glass of water, I was fine. I was. Fine.
But, seriously, though: this was a pretty awesome thing to see as a kid. It was the making of Star Trek: The Next Generation. It was how they put together a TV show, with full behind the scenes access provided by our friend Levar Burton, who just happened to be on both shows. Even non-Trekkies remember this one (at least the transporter glitter thing). For slightly nerdier children, it was nerdvana.
Here’s part two, where we learn that the crappy containment device from that crappy episode “Home Soil” was actually about two feet tall and made of stuff Rob Legato had left over after building his model planes. Also, the real Enterprise is like six feet long. Sorry about that.
Stay tuned for exclusive bloopers near the end. There is a TNG blooper reel, from the beginning of Season One, where you can actually hear Levar Burton saying the “S” word! You might like that as well, but you don’t have to take my word for it!

(da-dum-DUM!)
It’s so nice when something you’ve been waiting for with baited breath, shaking with anticipation, getting sucked in by hype and promises of the next big thing in cinema, actually turns out to be good. No, not good: superb. Superb is a word I have never used before in my entire life, and I’m using it now to describe Star Trek. This was popcorn entertainment of the highest caliber. It was the most enjoyable film I’ve seen in years.
Holy Wood: In The Shadow Of The Valley Of Death. It was written by M.Manson.
Bloom County. Outland. The Opusverse, we’ll call it, or the Bloom Count-inuum. Whatever it is, that’s one of my natural mental homes. I’ve already talked in these pages about how much Berke Breathed’s skewed heartland aesthetic and lovably neurotic characters affected me and how I think about the world, and now that he’s retiring, we’ll miss him. Maybe one day there’ll be another Opus and Bill TV special. Maybe. But probably not.
