Since I saw Star Trek a little over a week ago, I’ve struggled to write an adequate review of the movie, and what it meant to me, as someone who was part of the first effort to make Star Trek relevant to the, uh, next generation of fans. I’ve started and abandoned a few thousand words, mostly because I can say everything I need to say in just six:

I realize that a column about the movie, and what it meant to me, is going to need to elaborate on that just a little bit, and that’s where the trouble begins. See, I keep feeling like I’m just rewriting what I wrote about Watchmen, which could also be reduced to six words:

I've tried to stay away from Watchmen, but I keep coming back to that comparison because they both played significant roles in my life as I came of age during my teens. I feel a deeply personal connection to them, and I was – I think understandably – worried that these movies would leave me feeling the way I felt when I walked out of Phantom Menace.

In fact, to explain why, I'm going to quote myself, from my review of Watchmen:

And that's the thing, isn't it? Star Trek has meant too much to too many people for too long for those of us who love it to blindly accept that whoever makes it will treat it with the same love and respect that we believe it deserves. I think it was normal and natural for all of us to have reservations, especially about Star Trek.

It turns out, I think, that a lot of our fears, while well-founded, were unnecessary. JJ Abrams may not be one of us in the convention-going sense, but I think he has something in common with us, and I think it's a big reason why Star Trek made so many of us so very, very happy.

A lot of Trekkies got worked up when JJ Abrams seemed to say that he didn't even like Star Trek, and was more of a Star Wars fan:

The usual blogs and geek punditry picked up on that, and freaked out that he clearly didn't care about Trek, and was going to make something that had more in common with Star Wars – and possibly its disastrous prequels and special editions – than the Star Trek we've loved for so many years. I think, living in our post-Phantom Menace, post-ET-with-Walkie-Talkies, post are-you-fucking-kidding-me-with-X-Men 3 world, that's an understandable response. The funny thing is, I never heard anyone bother to add the very next thing he said:

Let's think about that for a moment, because it could mean a couple of different things. It could mean that Lucas made Star Wars movies that were bigger spectacles than the Star Trek movies, and we need to somehow top that ... except JJ immediately says it isn't:

I think this means that JJ Abrams, self-professed Star Wars fan, left the Special Editions and prequels feeling the same way a lot of us did. That is the shadow George Lucas cast over science fiction movies, especially remakes and reboots and re-imaginings. That could be why he made sure that, even though he doesn't love Star Trek as much as we do, he surrounded himself with people who did, and listened to them when he made his movie.

I could be completely wrong, of course, but I think the story in Star Trek supports this: Spock Prime says, "Listen, I know that I've messed with the timeline in your universe, and things are never going to be the same. But the universe that existed before I traveled through time is still there, and now it's up to you to explore this universe."

It's like JJ is simultaneously telling us, "I respect you. I respect the people and starships and adventures and universe that you've loved for 40 years. I'm not going to tell you that it doesn't matter. I'm not going to tell you that you were wrong to love it, and now it's all gone because I have shiny new effects and actors. It's all there, and it's yours to continue exploring as long as you want to.

"But I do have this new starship and a new crew, and we're going to go explore some different places where no one has gone before. If you want to come along with us, you're welcome to aboard. If not, bon voyage. If you treat her like a lady, she'll always bring you home."

This is the fundamental difference between what JJ Abrams did with Star Trek, and what George Lucas did with Star Wars. Lucas told us, "Hey, you know all that stuff you love so much? That stuff that's been a huge part of your life? Well, you're stupid for liking it because I didn't mean it. These are my toys, always have been, and now I'm taking them back. Ha. Ha. Ha. Fuck you, now give me more of your money."

I hope that Star Trek's legacy is two-fold. I hope that it leads to more movies with these actors and this creative team, and I hope that it encourages more studios and film makers to follow the example laid out by people like JJ Abrams, Zack Snyder, and Peter Jackson.

I mean, can you imagine Michael Bay's Star Trek?

Sorry. Sorry. That was cruel, and I shouldn't have put that image into your head. According to some quantum physicists, though, just thinking about that created a universe where it happened, and I'd like to apologize to everyone in it.

I want to talk about something else from Star Trek, but it contains spoilers, so...

I loved a lot of different things in Star Trek. I thought the casting was perfect. I thought the story was brilliantly paced and executed. I thought the photography, editing, sound design, and visual design was superb. But I especially loved...

...because it let us know that JJ Abrams got us. I, um, was also really happy to see a teenager on the bridge again, but I doubt there is another person in the known universe who shares my precise reasons.

In other words: I loved it. It was awesome.

When Wil Wheaton buys a camel, it will wear a Fez.