star leotard


One of my many fictional fears is that I’ll get summoned by some weird, god knows what, and turned into like… Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy like in that one movie. And the weird but beautiful dark skinned angel will tell me ‘the only way to go back and get your normal human life back is if you are a full saint.’ And I’ll say. “I don’t get it… How do I become a saint?”

The gorgeous magical man will tell me about all good that I’ve done then tell me that what I’m missing is 'to fall in love’, and I start freaking out, because I’m aro as fuck and I don’t look good in white leotards.
Project Hieroglyph: Why our science fiction needs new dreams.

The fact that we are all so steeped in the same shorthand of the future (intelligent robots; warp drive; retinal displays) is a hint that we’ve become complacent about our dreams. The stories we tell about the near future have become homogeneous and standardized. There are a handful of persistent narratives in Hollywood films and genre fiction about what the world will look like, much like the futuristic guns, helmets, and other props that get recycled from set to set. We all know the most popular of these stories: Inequality, social collapse, and chaos have been spilling into pop culture from Mad Max to Elysium. Sure, there are variations: climate change or aliens, Soylent Green or The Matrix. But they share a common aesthetic and cynicism. Then there are the flawed utopias (Logan’s Run, The Truman Show, Minority Report), the Frankenstein stories (Robocop, Her, Alien), and a handful of others. The optimistic visions might even be more consistent, like the sleek Jetsons future with those long-awaited flying cars. The most successful one is Star Trek (leotards!), which by this point has inspired generations of engineers and scientists.