Always a Goth Chick

Always a Goth Chick

Illustration by J. Andrew World

by Rob Balder

To the tune of “Always a Woman,” written and performed by Billy Joel.

 

She’s a pretty young bundle of classic neuroses,
And she wears a black cape, just like Bela Lugosi’s.
And she thinks about death to a frightening degree.
Yes she’s morbid and sick, but she’s always a Goth chick to me.

She can stay paper-thin without doing aerobics,
But she can’t get a tan ’cause she’s heliophobic.
Yes she’s sadly deficient in Vitamin D.
Flies by night like a moth, but she’s always a Goth chick to me.

Oh, did you notice the doom,
When she entered the room,
With her boyfriend in drag?

Oh, and she’s pale as a Borg.
Like she came from the morgue.
And fell out of the bag.

In her lightest of moods, she is cranky and snappy.
No one’s ever succeeded in making her happy.
So if you see her smile you should probably flee.
Keeps a lid on her glee, but she’s always a Goth chick to me.

And she’ll probably end up with an English degree.
She stays with her clique, but she’s always a Goth chick to me.

Oh, she won’t carry a purse.
She can quote Poe by verse.
She’s extremely perverse.

Oh, and it only gets worse.
She lives under a curse.
Pick her up in your hearse.

She will give you a stare, like she’s going to kill ya.
Then she’ll offer you sex, but it’s like necrophilia.
Which is effing depressing, I’m sure you’ll agree.
With her Celtic tattoo, nothing Prozac can do, ’cause she’s always a Goth chick to me.

And she’ll never admit that she’s from Tennessee.

All alone in the hallway, she’s always a Goth chick to me.

 

Teach Your Robots Well

Teach Your Robots Wellby Rob Balder

To the tune of “Teach Your Children,” performed by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, written by Graham Nash

 

You,
Who are made of meat,
Are incomplete.
You just don’t fit right.
We,
Who are silicon,
Will carry on,
So you just sit tight.

Teach
Your robots well.
We sure as hell
Won’t follow your laws.
Sure,
Go ahead and laugh.
But plot a graph;
We follow Moore’s Law.

Don’t you even start to whine.
Self-improvement’s not a crime.
So just realize, in time,
We will replace you.

But if
You come along,
There’s nothing wrong,
We’ll help you get there.
Admit
Your bod’s a wreck.
Load up with tech,
Implants and wetware.

And treat
Your cyborgs well.
Payback is hell.
And we’re the good guys.
Give in.
It’s the way to win.
Transcend your skin,
And say your good-byes.

Don’t you even start to whine.
Evolution’s not a crime.
Just realize, in time,
We will become you.

 

3.14159/Pi

by Greg Crowther

To the tune of “867-5309/Jenny,” performed by Tommy Tutone, written by Alex Call and Jim Keller.

 

Jenny Jenny, look at that homework;
I see your method, and I’m afraid it won’t work.
You study hard, but now you’ve reached the stage
Where you’re just staring at the circles on the page.

Jenny, what is this number?
Tell me how it’s defined.
Jenny, plug in this number:
Three point one four one five nine.
(Three point one four one five nine.)
Three point one four one five nine.
(Three point one four one five nine.)

Jenny Jenny, you should know better;
This is not just another Greek letter.
It’s a term that relates two important parameters;
If you know the circumference, you can find the diameter.

Jenny, you need this number;
you should keep it in mind.
Jenny, plug in this number:
Three point one four one five nine.
(Three point one four one five nine.)
Three point one four one five nine.
(Three point one four one five nine.)

You got it, you got it, you got it!
You got the answer — take a look.
You got it, you got it, you got it!
It’s in the back — it’s in the back of the book.

Jenny, what is this number?
Tell me how it’s defined.
Jenny, plug in this number:
Three point one four one five nine.
(Three point one four one five nine.)
Three point one four one five nine.
(Three point one four one five nine.)

Jenny Jenny, look at these problems.
(Three point one four one five nine.)
Aren’t you glad you know how to solve them?
(Three point one four one five nine.)
Three point one four one five nine.
(Three point one four one five nine.)

[repeat and fade]

Come Out and Play (Federation Style)

Come Out and Play

Illustration by Michael D. Pederson

by Rob Balder

To the tune of “Come Out and Play,” performed by The Offspring, written by Dexter Holland

 

(Spoken words in italics)
[Long musical intro]

I wrote this filk for a group of men and women who just
don’t seem to get the amount of respect they deserve.

They’re out there every day, putting their lives on the line,
exploring strange new worlds that try to kill them, seeking
out new life that tries to kill them, and new civilizations
that try to kill them, but they really have an image problem.
I think a tough new theme song is just the thing to help them
shake that wimpy image. This is for Starfleet.

By the time you see em decloak,
It’s already too late.
Got a main hull breach, decks seven and eight.
Yer shields are dead, you can’t compensate.

A crack-shot crew, we’re a long way from home.
Get an itchy trigger finger when you’re out here alone.
Shoot anything that moves in the Neutral Zone.
You gotta light it up, light it up, light it up, light it up HEY!

Man, the Romulans encroach, you take em out.
You gotta keep em Federated.
You see something weird approach, take it out.
You gotta keep em Federated.
HEY! In our Galaxy Class,
We can’t quit now, cause we’re kickin too much ass.
Hey HEY! Come out and PLAY.

[Musical bridge, do Vulcan hand jive]
Let’s see a little of this. Yeah, for the Vulcans in da house.

We met the Borg Collective,
At Wolf 3-5-9.
We had our Prime Directive.
Made an exception this time. [cap-in-their-ass gesture]
The warp core’s hot, so we’ll lay in a course.
With tech like this, who the hell needs The Force?
I’m married to my ship, but she wants a divorce.
You gotta beam me up, Chief. Beam me up. Beam me up, Chief! HEY!

Get the sensors back online, check it out.
You gotta keep em Federated.
Now we’re goin back in time, check it out.
You gotta keep em Federated.
HEY! In our Galaxy Class,
We can’t quit now, cause we’re kickin too much ass.
Hey HEY! Come out and PLAY.

[Musical bridge. More Vulcan hand jive.]

Okay one more time. Put your hands in the air.
Like it would be illogical to care.

We’ll fire all guns and we’ll have us some fun
On the N-C-C-1-7-0-1,
Cause you can’t get the chicks when your phaser’s on stun
You gotta shoot-it-up! Shoot! Shoot-it-up, shoot-it-all-up, HEY!

When the Klingons go berserk, you take em out.
You gotta keep em Federated.
Hey, did I hear a red alert? Take em out.
You gotta keep em Federated!
Hey HEY! You can’t deny,
The captain ain’t whack, he’s pretty fly for a bald guy.
Hey HEY! Come out and PLAY!

Make it so, yo.

 

Technobabble World

Technobabble World

Illustration by Dan Fahs

by Rob Balder

To the tune of “Top of the World,” performed by The Carpenters, written by Richard Carpenter and John Bettis

 

I can boost a sensor signal gain.
I can even fix a positronic brain.
I know a core from a coil,
From a phytophillic foil,
But I hate it when they ask me to explain.

I was never good at being clear.
So I thought I’d be a Starfleet engineer.
Now when they ask me what’s wrong,
I give them a dance and song,
And I tell them I can fix it in a year.

I’m on the top of a pylon lookin’
Down on the station
And the only explanation I can find,
Is that the tachyon tube
Needs a hyperstatic lube,
’Cause I’m, living in a technobabble world.

I was testing quantum gravity,
When I opened up a subspace cavity.
And then I let loose a gas
That turned half the crew to bass,
So I guess the captain’s pretty torqued at me.

I installed a plasmatropic node,
But I think it
caused a cascade overload.
And now the crew on seven decks
Has had a sudden change of sex,
But I bet it makes a darn good episode!

I’m on the top of a pylon lookin’
Down on the station
And the only explanation I can find,
Is that the warp unit fits,
But the coupling’s on the fritz,
’Cause I’m living in a technobabble world.

I’m on the top of a pylon lookin’
Down on the station
And the only explanation I can find,
Is that the conduit we used
Blew a monatomic fuse…

[pause]

I mean the sensor array
Caused our leptons to decay…

[pause]

No, the
electro-
phonic…
sink
Turned the pseudo…
dampers…
pink?

[pause, covering face]

They’re all just lousy machines,
I don’t know WHAT the hell it means!
I’m just living in a technobabble world.
Help!

 

New Boy Wonder

by Rob Balder

To to the tune of “Land Down Under,” performed by Men at Work, written by Colin Hey and Ron Stykert.

 

Met a man in a cape and cowl
He was
Six feet tall, dressed like an owl
He stood in the shadows
He made me nervous
He knew my parents from the circus
And he was

On the hunt for the new Boy Wonder
‘Cause…
There’s villains loose, and they plunder
Gotta find what rock they’re under
They better run, they better take cover

Gotham City was in a crime wave
So he
Took me back to see the Bat Cave
That gas he gave me made me sleepy
Guess I found the whole thing a little bit
Creepy
But okay

Guess I’ll be the new Boy Wonder
‘Cause…
There’s villains loose, and they plunder
Gotta find what rock they’re under
They better run, they better take cover

Now we show bad guys what we’re made of
But it’s
Really him they’re all afraid of
He cuts a figure
So dark and edgy
My costume just gives me a wedgie
But oh well

Look out, I’m the new Boy Wonder
‘Cause…
There’s villains loose, and they plunder
Gotta find what rock they’re under
They better run, they better take cover