I wish I could experience that. I wish our sci-fi fairytales of space travel were happening now. Alas, I must simply exist in a life lived better than a king of old, living longer than our ancestors, with food untasted by the billions before us, and all while I fly around in space within Eve Online while watching Star Trek. Life is great, but it’s so easy to want it to be just that much better.

Wil Wheton talks about times outside of filming on TNG where he would flip the set power switch on in Engineering and just soak it all in.

Not with Trek, but I’m a former stagehand and I’ve done amateur stagework. Spent a lotta time building and maintaining sets and props. I’ve been there.

You’re backstage, you’ve got how everything should look memorized, it’s all set up, and for a moment, while it’s just you and that dry run, you forget yourself. You’re a part of the show.

Eventually you step back, remember it’s all fake. You notice the little flaws, notice the floor isn’t just right under your feet. You were tired, trying to get something done. A lapse.

I genuinely believe in the magic of the stage. Not in the sense of a spell, but of the ritual. No matter if it’s on a screen, or in person, if you do it right, we let go. For a moment, we forget our world and step into another.

I’ve experience it a few times in VR. For a few fleeting seconds, my world is the world being projected onto my eyes. It rarely lasts long, but it is mind bending.

This is almost the exact experience I had playing Elite Dangerous in VR one time. I had my HOTAS mounted to the arms of my office chair so the whole setup could swivel. One day I was sitting in orbit over a planet researching a route or something. Ship sounds going in the headphones, comms coming in every now and then, then out of nowhere for just a brief moment I was in space flying that ship. I wish so badly that I could extend that feeling.

He’s describing liminal space. It has nothing to do with being tricked into thinking you’re on a space station. It’s about being somewhere our brain knows should have lots of people, but you’re alone.

I’ve walked through train stations late at night and had those moments before. A gaping maw of a walkway meant for rush hour pedestrian traffic… completely empty and silent.

Edit: ??? I guess liminal space is really upsetting for some people.

I want that for me

Enterprise hallways have such a 70ies feel.

I like the way the OP in the picture wants to start a horror kind of discussion and it immediately turns wholesome and heartwarming.

God thats so fucking cool, I’m deeply envious