In the “Futurama” episode “Where No Fan Has Gone Before” (April 21, 2002), the hapless Fry (Billy West) learns that “Star Trek” has been banned in the 31st century. He visits the severed head of Leonard Nimoy, which is kept alive in a jar of liquid, in the hope of learning more about the fate of “Star Trek.” Nimoy, who knows about the ban, initially protests his ignorance. Fry tries to remind him, describing “Star Trek” as a 1960s television series that “had 76 episodes. About 30 good ones.”

Nimoy eventually admits that he remembers Star Trek, but Fry’s description of the series’ quality is not entirely unfair. Gene Roddenberry’s original Star Trek series had many high points and provided popular science fiction with some of its most indelible images. Moreover, its vision of a countryless, moneyless, diplomatic and anti-colonial future inspired many to be optimistic about the future. But it may also be true that the series has produced more than its fair share of stinkers. Star Trek is a cultural phenomenon, yes, but even diehard Trekkies will admit that it can get incredibly silly and even downright absurd if given the chance.

All of the usual criticisms of the show – its low budgets, its tendency toward hippie free-love nonsense, its over-the-top 1960s-style acting – are valid. Trekkies, you may find, are often willing to admit and even criticize the show’s weaker episodes. We can love something and root for it at the same time.

With that in mind, here are the five worst episodes of the original Star Trek. And, my goodness, some of them are terrible.

In “Patterns of Force” (February 16, 1968), the Enterprise arrives on the planet Ekos in search of Professor John Gill (David Brian), one of Kirk’s former history teachers at Starfleet Academy. Kirk (William Shatner) and Spock (Leonard Nimoy) beam down to the planet Ekos and find that it has adopted the policies and uniforms of Nazi Germany. The Ekosians have targeted a nearby planet called Zeon for extermination, using the language of Adolf Hitler as a pretext. Kirk and Spock also learn that John Gill has been elected leader of the planet.

When Kirk and Spock finally confront Gill at the end of the episode – with the help of the local resistance movement – the Führer explains that he made an emergency landing on the planet and found chaos there. As a history professor, he consciously decided to establish a fascist government because he believes that this is the most efficient form of government that humanity has ever devised. Kirk convinces Gill to renounce the Nazism he supports and to make peace with Zeon.

It’s hard enough to watch “Patterns of Force” knowing that the show’s two Jewish leads were asked to wear Nazi uniforms. But it’s even harder to accept the show’s premise that Nazism can be viewed objectively and positively. The show is clearly trying to criticize the people who tried to argue in the 1960s that Nazism would have been a good form of government if it hadn’t been for all the genocide. But it’s so maudlin and gentle that the criticism is toothless. Ultimately, Star Trek argues that we all just have to get along, without addressing the insidiousness or violence of an actual genocidal regime. The conclusion “can’t we all just get along” seems childish. The episode was banned in Germany for years.

Gene Roddenberry’s vision of the future was marked by a strange contradiction. Star Trek was set in a military-run future in which Starfleet followed a strict code of conduct based on rank, rules and regulations. The only difference between a modern navy and Starfleet was that the latter was not dedicated to military conquest. What if, Roddenberry thought, all of our military technology was dedicated to exploration, humanitarian missions and peace? For such a system to work, rigor and decency were key, in Roddenberry’s view.

At the same time, however, Roddenberry openly supported free love and the hippie idealism that peace activists embraced. He loved the idea of ​​horny hippie chicks singing along to music and just hanging out with the crowd, man. When it came to free love, you can bet the notoriously horny Roddenberry was an advocate.

These two concepts – military austerity and hippie freedom – collide in “The Way to Eden” (February 21, 1969), one of the series’ most disgusting episodes. A group of music-loving hippies beam aboard the Enterprise after their own ship is destroyed and say they’re looking for a planet they call Eden. Eventually they take over the ship and make it to Eden. However, the planet, perhaps predictably, is not as paradisiacal as its name suggests.

It’s annoying how smug both sides – the hippies and Starfleet – get when discussing their respective philosophies, and no one is likable. Plus, the hippies are absurd and their music takes up far too much space in the episode. The most you might see is the stern Charles Napier in the silliest dress a Star Trek actor has ever worn. And that’s saying something.

Star Trek never had the highest ratings, and by the end of the second season, NBC was close to canceling the show altogether. Without the concerted letter-writing campaign of superfan Bjo Trimble, there would have been no third season of Star Trek. It’s a good thing Star Trek got a third season, because it helped the show cross the threshold for syndication. Once the show was syndicated, it found its true audience.

But, my goodness, when Star Trek entered its third year, things weren’t looking very promising. The first episode of the season was “Spock’s Brain” (September 20, 1968), a truly childish episode that wouldn’t have been out of place as a “Scooby-Doo” story. An alien invader enters the Enterprise and surgically removes Spock’s brain. Spock’s body is still alive, however, so Dr. McCoy (DeForest Kelley) can equip his skull with a remote-controlled machine that allows others to control him like a zombie robot. Kirk and company eventually discover that Spock’s brain is hooked up to a giant computer on a distant planet and is being used to regulate the food and environment of a species of goofballs. A learning machine that looks like a sieve teaches McCoy how to put Spock’s brain back in.

“Spock’s Brain” is bizarre in a way that no one expects from “Star Trek,” and I say that as a fan of “Star Trek: Lower Decks” and “Star Trek: Strange New Worlds.” The premise is absurd and the technology is ridiculous, even for the normally wild “Star Trek.” In short, “Spock’s Brain” is just silly.

Many bad Star Trek episodes are characterized by poor writing or odd ideas, but “The Alternative Factor” (March 30, 1967) is the only episode that is downright incompetent. In the episode, Kirk and Co. encounter a mysterious spaceman named Lazarus (Robert Brown), who seems to have spontaneously come into being. Lazarus, it seems, races in and out of our dimension, tearing the fabric of space and time apart. On the way back to his home dimension, Lazarus regularly slips into an eerie dimensional corridor. As he traverses it, however, he encounters a parallel version of himself, and the two Lazaruses briefly engage in a brawl.

The interdimensional battles are realized through loud bangs and lots of oversaturated photo effects that are unclear and difficult to understand. After each battle, Lazarus A is replaced by Lazarus B. However, they are indistinguishable as they both wear similar glued-on beards.

There’s some high-flown dialogue about how a mixture of matter and antimatter will destroy both universes, but it never really makes sense. The episode is sluggish and its script is nonsense. This isn’t an interesting exploration of doppelgangers, parallel universes, or even human drama, it’s just a bunch of noise and fury. Lazarus isn’t a memorable hero or villain, and it’s hard to say if one of them is supposed to be “good” and the other “evil.” By the end of the episodes, the two Lazaruses are trapped in their pocket dimension and forced to fight forever. No one cares much.

It’s a shame that the worst episode of Star Trek is the last one. “Turnabout Intruder” (June 3, 1969) is a body-swapping episode in which an embittered villain named Dr. Janice Lester (Sandra Smith) uses sinister technology to swap minds with Captain Kirk. As Kirk, she attempts to take over the Enterprise, although she seems uniquely ill-equipped for the task. Meanwhile, in Lester’s body, Kirk must convince people that his body has been usurped.

Dr. Lester, the episode explains, wants to inhabit Kirk’s body because, sigh, women aren’t allowed to serve as starship captains. It’s odd and disheartening that Star Trek would think to introduce this sexist conceit in its final episode, and Trekkies tend to ignore any canonical implications.

But to make matters worse, “Turnabout Intruder” goes out of its way to show that women cannot make good captains. Dr. Lester is portrayed as impulsive, selfish, hysterical, and too emotional to serve. She only wants to be captain out of sexist resentment, and her ambition is seen as evil and misguided. She giggles and orders her crew killed. Like Lady Macbeth, she wants to “defeminize” herself.

For a show that leaned toward progressive ideas, “Turnabout Intruder” is as backwards as it gets. And with it, “Star Trek” sailed away. It’s good that it will return at some point to wash the taste out of our mouths.