Don Williams
Photo by Justin Williams

Don Williams is a prize-winning columnist, blogger, fiction writer, sometime TV commentator, and is the founder and editor emeritus of New Millennium Writings, an annual anthology of stories, essays and poems. His awards include a National Endowment for the Humanities Journalism Fellowship at the University of Michigan, a Golden Presscard Award from Sigma Delta Chi Society of Professional Journalists, a best Commentary Award from SDC, Best Feature Writing from the Associated Press Tennessee Managing Editors, the Malcolm Law Journalism Prize from the Associated Press, Best Non-Deadline Reporting from the United Press International, Best Novel Excerpt from the Knoxville Writers Guild, a Peacemaker Award from the Oak Ridge Environmental Peace Alliance, five Writer of the Month Awards from the Scripps Howard Newspaper chain, and many others. In 2011 he was inducted into the East Tennessee Writers Hall of Fame. His 2005 book of journalism, Heroes, Sheroes and Zeroes is under revision for a second printing, and he is at work on a novel and a book of journalism. His columns appear at and have been featured at many other well-known websites. To run his column, gratis, at your website, post this link to a dedicated spot: Need a speaker, panelist, tv commentator or teacher for your group or to lead a writing workshop, in your town? Email

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Where's Scotty when we need him?
(Copyright by Don Williams, All rights reserved   07/22/2005)

Beam me up Scotty.

Canna' do, Captain, the transporter's malfunctioning.

Scotty, you've got seven minutes to Get. That. Equipment. Fixed. The No-Brains are closing in, so are the Blind-Eyes, Name-Callers and Neocons. Congregating in all sectors, they're running down the rational and the generous-hearted. Dragging whistle-blowers through the slime. They're calling us foul names at websites, assaulting the Letters page with rants and distortions of our five-year mission. We must act now to save the Federation. Otherwise, Earth is doomed, including Scotland.

I canna' change the laws of physics, Captain.

Also, Scotty, I'll need more power. We've got to make it to the end of this column. I'll need Warp Drive once you beam me up.

Why Captain, this bucket of bolts won't achieve Warp Drive again in our lifetimes. She's too old. Her Dilithium Crystals are shot.

Scotty, I know you better than that. When the Tholian web-cruisers trapped us with their energy-webs, you re-wired the fabric of space-time itself to bring me back from the 47th dimension.

I was young and strong then, Captain.

Not only that but a week later you beamed up two space princesses in day-glo bikinis. They took turns kissing me deliriously. But where was I? Try to remember, Scotty!

That was before the Fundies took power, Captain.

The Fundies?

The Fundamentalists, Captain, where've you been hidin' yourself? The Fundies have joined forces with the Klingons and Neocons to alter the flow of history itself. They're stayin' a light-year ahead of us, changing the world at every turn before we even detect it. They're starting thousand-year wars, building nukes, melting icecaps and hastening the destruction of strange new worlds and cultures in the rain forests.

I see, it's worse than I thought.

Aye, Captain. Not only that, but there seems to be a distortion of the space-time fabric in this sector of the galaxy. I canna explain it any better than that.

Science Officer Spock here, Captain. I've performed a sensor scan in this sector and it appears the Fundies are re-writing the laws of physics.

How are they doing it Spock?

Unknown, Captain. It's something even I could never do.

This is Dr. McCoy. Now you listen to me you pointy-eared, blue-blooded half-breed, stop being so scientific and show a little human ingenuity….

Bones get control of yourself! Go ahead, Mr. Spock.

Thank you, Captain. As I was saying, even with the Vulcan mind meld, I could never accomplish what the Fundies have done. They've assaulted not only the Big Bang, but the concepts of evolution and global warming have been dismissed as figments of the rational mind.

Spock, tell me it isn't so.

The Laws of Motion could be next, Captain. Transporters and starships were never made to work in such a world. Witness the recent failure of the Space Shuttle. In the world of the Fundies and Neocons, the laws of science simply do not apply.

He's right, Captain. I canna work in such an alien environment.

You have one minute, Mr. Scott, or we're finished. Might. I. Suggest. You. Fix the blasted transporter. Now, Scotty!

I'll do my best, Captain, but if she blows to Kingdom Come I won't be responsible.

Scotty, when I was a spy aboard that Romulan vessel you whisked me away in the nick of time. Scotty? Scotty? Come in Scotty. Where are you Scotty?