[PICARD (Patrick Stewart, amazed his career is playing a British Frenchman on a Flying Hyatt Hotel)]: Number One?
[RIKER (with extra beard)]: Sensors say the Bunker has entered a null zone, Sir. Time has stopped.
[DATA]: Yes, Sir, it appears that a temporal anaphalasic shift occurred during an unforeseen modulation of the warp coil interface with a paradynamic phased output wave. As once theorized by the Old Earth sonic immortals Motley Crue, that if sufficient American teenagers gathered with a certain subpar IQ . . .
[GEORDI]: Riiiiiight, Data, I get it. Except I think you’re referring to Styx, everyone at Starfleet knows they define North American . . .
[RIKER]: OK, let’s not get into the ‘Domo Arigatoo Mr. Roboto’ thing again?
[Picard]: Enough. Data, can you undo this? Can you return the Bunker to its right time? To September 28, 2009?
[DATA]: If the writers can extend this expensive cinemagraphic camera ‘one shot’ take with a few more lines of technobabble, I believe we can return.
[PICARD]: Make it so !
We got a new toy in the Bunker, as you can see. It’s caused Data’s temporal rift. A mid-level acoustic but it offers a broader sonic template for various audio and other multimedia stuff. Some may find their way here one day.
What we’ve wanted to add since yesterday are some thoughts on Bubba’s comparison of the Movement – 1993 and 2009. You’ve already likely come across discussions on it. A multifaceted and fun topic — perfect for our merry band. Our goal? To put down the toys and add some thoughts shortly.
In the meantime, here’s an inspiration for the Time-thinga-ma-bob delay. We remember catching this back in the day (1979) in a theater and later LP. ‘Unplugged’ hadn’t been invented yet. We did enjoy experiencing an acoustic guitar stomp all over Crosby, Stills & Nash, Bread, James Taylor et al. Even from today’s vantage point it still astounds. Performance at the original ‘Secret Policeman’s Ball’ hosted by John Cleese. See everyone after the next commercial break.
P.S. Yes, that’s the Bunker’s Aibo vamping for the camera and guitar. Howard Stringer, may your sushi taste like Spam for eternity !!