Saturday, March 21, 2009


For a show I don't fraking watch, I sure do know a lot about it.

No, I don't watch Battlestar Galactica. I'm married to someone who does and have occasionally stumbled into the room to see it, but, again, I reiterate, No, I don't watch it. And no, I really don't care to. Yeah, I know. It's a great show. No, no, "It's a deep, complicated, engaging show!" says my Mister. In fact, and I mean this with no ill-intent, I usually sleep through it. The Mister lovingly cues it up on the Tivo about 20 minutes after 10pm each Friday night, and that somehow Pavolvian-ly triggers me to begin my 40 minute nap on the couch.

I know, I know you're going to tell me if I would just watch the first few episodes I'd be all hooked. No, really, thank you. And I certainly have no intention of ribbing those of you who have chosen B.G. as a lifestyle choice.

Part of my problem is that I'm in too many T.V. show committed relationships already. I can't get involved with who is or is not a cylon. Who fraked a cylon. I can't manage mental tallies of who we know for sure would appear in a cylon directory.

And for all that not watching I do of B.G., I have a few complaints.

1) And I think you'll all agree: Does it just bug the nuts out of you when an actor whose character not yet dead on one show appears on another show as a different character -- like you weren't going to notice. Like you can totally watch show #2 and not think that, say, Starbuck has really cashed in her B.G. chips when she's all geared up to play the tattooed, oversexed anesthesiologist on Nip/Tuck. Incidentally, I wouldn't have noticed this except that the Mister, who does not watch N/T (He has no intention of watching it except that he's married to someone who does and occasionally stumbles into the room when it's on.), blurted out in one of his passing-bys, "Hey, that's the chick who plays Starbuck."

2) Starbuck, by sheer mention of her name, makes me want coffee. They ought to have given her a more clever name. Or hell, at least a brighter disposition to carry such a sunshiney name.

3) The Mister assures me I am mistaken, and maybe I, by my presence alone, just bring it out in shows -- but B.G. seems like soft porn. I know, coming from someone who watches Nip/Tuck. But for real. As rarely as I'm in the room, someone's always having some serious space-sex. And they aren't always too terribly discriminating about that whole "with-whom" part. Dead people, real people, real robot looking people, people with creepy eyepatches.. I thought their world was being destroyed? I thought each one of them was plagued with creepy, reoccuring dreams? I thought their junk-heap ship, La Galactica, was on its last space leg and they were pleading to their too-numerous-to-count gods for answers? Peeps seem pretty down with all that to be getting it on so much.

4) And why did Creepy Eyepatch Dude choose a skin-toned eyepatch? That just made it extra creepy, sir. And how did C.E.Dude land the hottie with such a creepy eyepatch? See, it could only happen in space. Though pirates are near and dear to me, an eyepatch on a man is a deal breaker. Unless the eyepatch is obtained post-first date. And even then it demands some reconsideration. Be honest, you agree. I'll say it, I'm an eyepatch-ist.

5) Funny that all of your little baby fighter ship things run just fine, but that big one that you park them on is falling apart. Might want to have the mechanic take a look at it.

6) Where's the funny guy? The guy who lightens up the mood with a great one-liner? Perhaps if the show is pre-Earth they haven't made anti-depressants yet, because everyone's so gloomy. Or if the show is post-Earth they didn't have enough cargo room to store the medication for 38,000 people tooling around space.

I'd go on, primarily about the finale, but I fear that a few of you have not yet seen it and I'd hate to fill your mind with questions at that, the most final of finales.

Seriously. I don't watch the show.

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