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kara smile
I'm not gonna beat around the bush. As of right now, in this first minute of February 15, 2009, I will no longer be blogging here at Ashley Awesome.


As for my clues, very loosely, the first five are about things ending and blowing up, hence the death of this blog. Six through nine were about endings, new beginnings, and trying new things.

Sounds hopeful, doesn't it? Well, you're probably pretty angry right now because quitting blogging sucks. I hate it when my bloggers quit. It feels like being abandoned.

But wait, there's more: clues seven through fourteen. To be honest, ten and eleven were mostly red herrings, although Will Ferrell getting his first girlfriend in Stranger Than Fiction was a pretty new thing. It was mostly just Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker that were the red herring. But I had to do it, because I'm evil. You know what else is evil? Letting you all think I'm quitting blogging, when clearly the last three clues are about being born, and Superman even tells Lois "I'll always be around." Well, guess what? So will I!

Run, don't walk. Don't pass GO, don't collect $200. And goodbye, Livejournal friends. Please follow me to my new home. I will make sure to keep up with you at yours. (The rest of you make sure to change your links and feed subscriptions.) And so, without any (more) further ado, I bid you click:

valentine's day battlestar blog

tigh radio
Haters to the Left Airlock

I want to start off with a little explanation about myself. See, I have this love / hate relationship with critics. On the one hand, I completely understand why they are necessary, both for audiences and showrunners alike. However, I also think criticism is a huge problem. I don't mean literary criticism when I say "criticism"; I'm a huge fan of that, obviously. What I mean when I say "criticism," i.e, the profession of "critics", is when a person sits down in front of a TV show (or in front of a movie, etc.) with the sole purpose of tearing it to shreds and then seeing if they can put it back together again (this supposedly means it "works" and is "good TV"). It's taken me a while to figure out why, but I am completely and utterly opposed to the whole philosophy of thinking behind this. Sure, shit TV should know it's shit TV. BUT, there is a line. Now, if I haven't completely pissed you off, I'll explain more clearly in my "review," for lack of a better* word. I just wanted to warn you; I get kind of** upset about these things.

"Hell is other people."
Jean Paul Sartre, No Exit

Since we're talking about love,*** let's talk about what that means. Almost from the start of "No Exit," we receive confirmation about what many people -- including me -- have been speculating since the original reveal of the the Final Four: the Five are different than the Seven (now Eight -- Who was right about there being a 13th Cylon? Oh yeah, that was me), and what's more, the Five created the Eight.  Ellen wakes up confused in her goo-bath, and besides that lovely Centurion, who is the first to greet her? Cavil, who is apparently the instigator behind almost everything bad-Cylon related on this show. We should have guessed this, and maybe some of us did, but I don't think any of us thought it would be this bad. Turns out Cavil was the first to be created and loved by Mama Ellen -- hence the #1 -- but he doesn't seem to have ever appreciated the gift. What smacked me in the face about this whole situation was that I never in a million years would have guessed that not only did Cavil know who the Final Five were, but he was the one who was responsible for their exile, and for the re-programming of the other six models (plus the essential murdering of Seven -- Daniel), so that they would not recognize their creators. What a whiny little bitch. I bet you one million dollars he instigated the destruction of the Colonies and pushed the other Cylons to destroy their parents, just as he was the instigator on New Caprica, preventing Boomer and Six from getting what they really wanted out of a Human / Cylon alliance.

I mean, I could probably talk for hours and hours about this character and his motivations and how he's affected both the storyline and the other characters in the most deep and horrible of ways, but I still wouldn't be any closer to truly understanding him. Hopefully that will change in the next couple of weeks, but for now I think it's enough to note that Cavil is a man -- yes, "man," no matter how much he wishes differently -- whose simultaneous ego and need for approval is complimented by a deep-seated general dissatisfaction -- no, abhorrence -- of his place in life. He longs for perfection and power, and though I don't know where his rage and unhappiness stems from, I do know that it makes him the ultimate critic. He abhors humanity and everything it stands for because he sees humanity as imperfect and flawed. If he believed in God, Cavil would be the guy praying every day to shuffle off this mortal coil and to shed his earthly trappings for the chance to be a more perfect being. But: he doesn't believe in God for two main reasons. One: if there were a God, then Cavil would have to acknowledge the importance of love and forgiveness, and of submission to something greater than himself. And two: Cavil wants to be a God, himself. "I've seen the building blocks of creation," he says, and he isn't impressed. This is a man so arrogant, so sure in his view of the world, clinical and mechanical and perfect, that he literally cannot comprehend any other view than his own.

The more I think about it, the more I think this episode is key not just expositionally, but thematically to the whole series. One of the main things I think "all of this has happened before and all of this will happen again" is implying is humanity's (and Cylon's) seemingly constant need for something or someone to be less important than they are. Hence: slaves and racism and the creation of the Cylons over and over and over again. Because if we can create something that is lower than us, definitively, then that means that we, too, are Gods. In his quest to destroy both sets of parents (the Five and human civilization), Cavil is most likely fulfilling that need to a greater degree than anyone before him ever has. Love and forgiveness mean almost nothing to him; he's an angry child who resents his life and his parents, and who believes that only in destroying them can he be proven right. But here's the kicker, even as he's doing this, he is waiting for the day that they will return to him so that he can show them how right he is; so that finally his mother will love him for who he is, instead of wanting him to be something he's not. That's why he killed Daniel, because Daniel was everything he wasn't: loving, compassionate, flawed . . . human. Alan Sepinwall (the critic -- although, I think he's a pretty fair one) wrote in his review:

"We find that Cavil is not only the first of the new skinjobs, but a cruel hybrid of the Biblical Cain (he murdered his brother, and his mother is fond of apples), Oedipus (has sex with his mother, though the eye he puts out belongs to his father) and a kind of Pinocchio in reverse."

He wants to be a real robot, Geppetto! The other kicker is that what he doesn't understand, what he could never really comprehend, is that Ellen does love him, fiercely and inexplicably, for exactly who he is. "Because I made you," she says. Love means approval to him. Love means being right. Love is a weakness, like his fleshy body. He doesn't understand that it's him who is the problem; that by never accepting himself and his place in the world (something he will never be able to change), he is the only one who is responsible for his misery. You guys, my brain hurts so bad from thinking about this, and I don't even know if it makes any sense, but it's so fucking fascinating that I have to stop right now, or I'll just go on and on.

So let's apply our Cavil lesson elsewhere. This whole episode is one giant ode to acceptance. From the tiniest of moments -- like Lee and Roslin accepting that they are no longer the twelve colonies, but a fleet, and adjusting their democracy accordingly -- we can see it. In Laura's admission that she can no longer function as President, and Lee's that he's the right man for the job. Or Adama accepting the reality of their situation, and allowing his ship to basically become a Cylon hybrid. (Galactica will be alive!!!) The Final Four, coming to accept who they are and what their roles have been in the last 2,000 years (notice the peace they receive in doing so). And even Kara, who is searching and searching for something to hold on to, and finding nothing. I wanted so badly for her to be the 8th Cylon -- I screamed it to the entire room -- but Kara's identity is for another day. Even after all of that, the one that affects me the most is Boomer.

Ever since New Caprica broke her spirit and she took up with Cavil, every glimpse of her on-screen has broken my heart just a little bit more. She loved being human; she loved Galactica and the fleet. She loved the Chief. And then, her body turned on her. She shot her Papadama right in the chest, and lost her life in the process. It's always the saddest when you see Athena and Boomer together. Athena was never brainwashed; she knew she was a Cylon from the start and willingly chose to become a human. Boomer never had that choice. And so, with the coming of Ellen, Boomer once again has hope. She latched onto Cavil like a sucker fish because he was sure and she thought he had all the answers about who she was and who she was supposed to be. Ellen undermines Cavil's brainwashing simply by her very existence. I created you, Ellen says, and I loved you. Ellen made Boomer to be flawed, to love passionately and be fiercely loyal. To be compassionate. These are not weaknesses; they are why I love you. Being a Cylon doesn't mean being a heartless machine; the first skinjobs arguably weren't even machines. That's not what being a Cylon means. Something created in love is meant to be loved and to love in return. Ellen is speaking in Boomer language, and so Boomer is free to rescue her and finally FINALLY return home to Galactica. (Chief is waiting.)

Some final thoughts about the episode itself. Knowing that the episode was inspired by Sartre's No Exit, in which three people are trapped in a room in Hell to torture each other with memory for all eternity, really helped me get a grip on the thinking behind it. I frickin' love Ellen Tigh, which is even more amazing than me loving Saul, because I hated her way worse back in her glory-slut days. In this new context, however, those days take on this weird sadness, like this gloriously luminous being was trapped in a tragically skanky body. Because she is: totally glorious. So sure of herself as Mama Cylon, so full of love for even Cavil. I loved the whole thing. The scene where Tigh and Caprica's baby kicks for the first time was so melty in my heart, you have no idea. It does not bode well for them. A few questions about the nature of the Cylons: what exactly makes you a Cylon? or Human? Because the way Sam explained it -- and I could be wrong about this -- it sounds like the original "Cylons" were nothing more than humans who had figured out a process called "organic memory transfer," which would effectively make them immortal. He mentions nothing about machines. Mo Ryan (a critic that I think is probably the most fair you can get) writes in her review of the episode:

"On Kobol, the humans and the 'gods' lived peacefully together (were the Cylons the gods? Were they viewed as gods because on Kobol, they were human beings who had figured out how to download themselves into new bodies or 'resurrect' themselves?) In any case, it appears that on Kobol, the humans first created the Cylons and perfected resurrection."

I think those are very interesting suggestions, and I'm pretty sure at least one of them is right. If this is right, then the way I figure it, the "Cylons" aka the 13th Tribe, who most likely only differed genetically enough to make the memory transfer possible (and hence be discovered as all-Cylon in "Sometimes a Great Notion") invented Cylon machines of their own accord, and were traveling to the colonies to warn their non-downloadable brothers not to do the same. Something else I find interesting about this scenario, as Sam tells it, is that the 13th Tribe gave up on the memory transfer and began reproducing genetically. Why would they do this? I don't really know, but I can guess that it has something to do with the troubles that our present day Cylon-heroes are facing as well. It also implies that while the Eight are different, more machine, than the Five, they are also more human than we previously thought, because they were essentially created by people with very human qualities, and not robots, as we have assumed for four years.

And two more things (I'm sorry this is so long -- no I'm not): Ron Moore says that each Cylon was created by the Five and the Centurions to represent specific aspects of humanity. (Cavil: anger, ego, Leoben: spirituality, scary intense, D'Anna: bitchy, determined, Simon: boring, Doral: slimy and kind of boring, Six: sexual and manipulative and also spiritual and loving and kind of compassionate if you give her time, Seven: ?, artistic, and Eight / Sharon: like practically everything.) As Cavil seems to be the big failure, and he was number one, and Sharon is the most "human" of all of them, it stands to reason that the later models have more human qualities. Six and Eight particularly, and more than likely, Seven, too. Which feeds in to my next theory. Two other things in this episode (Sam seeing all the Cylons and Kara glowing, and Ellen saying Seven was an artist) lead me to, independently on my own (I even shouted it to the room), believe that a Seven was Kara's father. We know that the Daniel-line was infected so that no more Sevens could ever download, but there's no way Cavil could have murdered all of them with his bare hands. Some had to have escaped and died naturally. We don't know Kara's father's name, but we do know that he was an extraordinary pianist, and his daughter is very artistic. Not to mention her unexplained ability to download into a new body and not even know about it. This would mean that Kara was the first hybrid, and maybe that makes it possible that she could have downloaded. (My sister told everyone in my apartment of her firm belief that Daniel is now Kara herself in a new girl-body, and as proof she offered: "She's kind of mannish, right?") I could be so totally wrong about this (I usually try not to theorize things, but this one just smacked me in the face, and it smacked some other people, too, so . . .) so don't shoot the messenger.

Now to the craziness and anger. People are complaining all over the internet about how this episode was exposition heavy (they have other complaints as well). I love exposition. I love it. To me, there is almost nothing more satisfying in a story than exposition done really well. This is why my favorite parts from Harry Potter feature Harry being told stories from the past, i.e. finding out Sirius was his godfather in Prisoner of Azkaban, and Dumbledore telling him about the prophecy in The Order of the Phoenix. Orson Scott Card does it really well, too, in Speaker for the Dead (God, I love that book). But anyway, the point is, I think people should understand that there is a time and a place for exposition, and that it's not always a BAD THING in capital letters because your professor told you so. It's only a BAD THING if your entire "story," like, consists of some asshole just telling people things. If handled properly, however, at the right point in the story (usually near the end) exposition can smack you across the face so hard with awesomeness that you will pee yourself from excitement and trying not to puke. That is what this episode did for me, because I let go of all my crap and just enjoyed it. Because that's the other thing, and why I started out this little thing I write with a diatribe about critics. Sometimes, when you're looking so hard and trying to dissect something, you miss the point. Just like Cavil, at a certain point in some stories (ones that have earned it, as this show certainly has), you have to check your ego at the door and learn to love it for what it is. I could sit and pull this episode apart line by line and I could probably find a thousand things that could have been done better, more to my liking, but that's not how I watch TV. That's not how I write about TV, especially not about TV I love. At a certain point you have to just sit back and suspend that part of yourself that needs to understand and dissect. I mean, sure it's flawed, but that's not the point. Do yourself a favor: stop asking yourself what's working and what's not, and start asking the show some questions: who are you, and what are you trying to say to me? Turn off your brain and just feel. I'm totally being dramatic here, but it's the same thing, right? Just love it like it wants to love you, Cavil. You'll be so much more happier, Cavil. LOVE THE FLAWS, CAVIL. I mean, that's what he needs to learn, right? Flaws are what make us human, lovable, worthy. Flaws make us unique. I mean, in my opinion, if you're not doing that, you're missing out on something special.

I may be speaking to a void. I mean, I don't know any critics, so basically this is a letter to no one, but I needed to say it. So thanks for listening, void. And remember, don't be a hater. It makes me sad.

*Somebody come up with a word for what I do.
***This is an appropriate topic in oh so many ways.

countdown to nothing, day fourteen

mal with gun
I'm too mindfrakked by Battlestar to write anything, so here's your fourteenth (and last) clue:

You now have twenty-four hours. Go.

countdown to nothing, day thirteen

Today is Friday. I love Friday. Today is Friday the 13th. I love those. Also, today is Battlestar Day. I LOVE those. You know what else? Today is Welcome Back to TV, Joss Whedon, Day. And guess what? I LOVE THOSE. Everybody watch Dollhouse.

Here is your thirteenth clue:

countdown to nothing, day twelve

aeryn sunglasses
It's like that cute, nerdy Christian Asian girl in Juno said, "All babies want to get borned! All babies want to get borned!" While I know that like, none of you, have seen Farscape*, it is practically mandatory that you watch this video in order to understand** this crazy game of mine. If you don't want to watch it, just remember, when the time comes for me to be handing out cookies***, you will be sorry. Oh, yes you will.

Here is your twelfth clue:

*For shame, Grasshopper. FOR SHAME.
**Only two days left!
Homemade cookies, in case you were wondering. From scratch.

countdown to nothing, day eleven

Once upon a time I ate fresh baked cookies while watching The Biggest Loser. Once upon a time I learned to speak Meow. Once upon a time God invented stories so one day he could have TV shows. Once upon a time it was a Tuesday. And once upon a time there was a boy named Will Ferrell, and he sang a song to Maggie Gyllenhaal, and it was good.

Here is your eleventh clue:

countdown to nothing, day ten

Firstly, I would like to share a revelation with you. Did you guys know that Barack Obama is PRESIDENT!?* I mean, I've known for a while now, but today it just hit me. Like, BAM. It was weird. You know what else is weird? Your tenth clue:

*"Stanley! Barack is President! You are black, Stanley!"

countdown to nothing, day nine

kara is an idiot
I have had Kenneth Branagh's Hamlet on in the background for about three hours. It is so very long, much like this countdown, or countup, as some of you have taken to calling it. Also, I had a most excellent breakfast burrito this morning at the B-Line on 4th Avenue. Horridly small space and kind of expensive, but YUM. Seriously, guys: homemade tortilla. I ended up just ripping the thing apart and dipping it in salsa. It was carne asada carnage on my plate.*

Here is your ninth clue:

*This is why I never lose weight when I'm sick.

sunday evening battlestar blog

He Ain't Got a Leg to Stand On

I would like to start this entry by relating an anecdote for you. It's about bean dip. So. Half the fun of Frak Parties, besides the other half of watching Battlestar Galactica with a bunch of other freaks, is the food. Emily and I have taken great pride in feeding our guest various delectables: homemade pie (with crust!), fancy drinks, non-fancy drinks, fresh cookies, popcorn, Cylon cake, hot chocolate, brownies, blondies, and as of last night, bean dip. Emily found the recipe online. In this recipe is like a pound of beans, a stick of cream cheese, a bag and a half of cheese, taco mix, and a crap-ton of sour cream. The instructions noted that this recipe was too much food for fifteen people. Last night there were six of us, and we ate the entire thing in thirty minutes flat. (Lindsay: "Should my heart hurt?")


"Oh, yeah. I did bathe and wash them. Made their meals. I loved the enemy."
Admiral William Adama

I sit here before you with snot in my nose, mucous in my throat, and a temperature of 101 degrees, and if that doesn't make you feel sorry for me then you are mean and heartless. What else makes you mean and heartless? Not dying a little on the inside from watching "Blood on the Scales." I mean, seriously, this episode was nuts, right?

Let's start with Roslin: what a scary-ass motherfrakker. When she screamed out "I'M COMING FOR ALL OF YOU!", I got weird goosebumps, on like, my liver or something. But, seriously, can you blame her? Roslin doesn't really play that big of a role in the action of this episode in terms of screen-time, but the role she does play -- the scariest woman ever scorned -- is just phenomenal. She storms onto that baseship like she owns it and bosses those Cylons around like she owns them, too. After I got over the initial trauma of this episode, I re-watched it again, and all I kept thinking about was how, whether she knew it or not, Roslin was treating these Cylons (who were her enemy just a month or so ago, and whom she hated beyond almost all reason) as equals. Without thought. WE must give the Admiral a chance. WE must be patient. WE will be the ones he remembers when he takes back that ship. You and me and our Cylon family. It's hilarious, but it's also kind of beautiful, if you stop to think about it. It's also remarkable in its own right that not only did she turn to them at her bleakest hour, but that they responded in kind. Her voice, in both this episode and in "The Oath" (and her lack of voice in "Sometimes a Great Notion" and "A Disquiet Follows My Soul") is extremely important. She is the voice of justice, of what is normal and constant, and right. She may have lost her confidence for a while there, but people in the fleet still look up to and respect her. Her voice was the only one to give true meaning to those words. In the same way that children need a mother, the fleet needs Laura Roslin.

If Roslin is the mommy, Adama is the daddy. And daddy's pretty pissed. He spends half the episode going "fuck you" to everyone he comes into contact with, and the other half just being a complete bad-ass in every way possible. But here's the part that I think is really important. Throughout this whole thing, Adama has not lost his moral compass. Not once. Even last week when he took that marine guy prisoner instead of killing him, Adama was showing his colors. What's the point of winning, of surviving this mutiny, if you become a scum-sucking bastard in the process? There were two scenes that really stood out to me. First, there's the "trial" with Romo, Gaeta and Zarek. He never once lets Gaeta and Zarek see any sort of regret, mostly because he doesn't have any where they're concerned, but also because that's not how you win. It's pretty telling to me that Adama mostly ignores Zarek. He's never liked our old Mr. VP, but Gaeta, Gaeta was family. I'll hit on this more later, but the fuel that lights Gaeta's fire is righteousness. He has love inside of him, and a desire to do good things, and the remains of a very strong love and respect for Adama himself. And that's where Adama hits him: right in the daddy-complex. First he undermines the "trial" by calling it a joke, and then questions who has the right to charge him with treason. Then he hits Gaeta with love. Yes, Mr. Gaeta I did what you accuse me of, and I did it with joy in my heart: "I loved the enemy."

I'm pretty sure that's the most important line of the episode. It's the oldest religious tenet in the book, in all the books, really, but it's also the one that everyone has the most trouble with. Forgive. Love. Forgive your enemy, and then love him like he never betrayed you. He is your brother. If you think about it, it's actually the central conflict of the series (and of humanity): even before the Cylons blew up the twelve colonies, they were busy fighting with and hating each other. It was only with the destruction of everything they knew that they could become one people. (And every time the Cylons disappear, it all seems to go to Hell real fast.) They had a common enemy, and now they are once again asked to accept former enemies into their midst, and they're finding it impossible. So yes, Adama is loving and forgiving (not without a struggle, I might add), and he's basically like Jesus with a gun. The second scene is in the same vein: as Lee and company rescue him from the firing squad, he stops Tigh from shooting that jackass Narcho (what kind of a name is Noel "Narcho" Allison -- he totally deserves to be punched just from that) right in the head. Narcho has more guts than I would have. He tells Adama that he's always respected him, but he hates the Cylons, and he won't serve under someone who refuses to fight them. I believe it was Laura in one of her broadcasts who said that war is all they've ever known, and she's right. This is a people, a race, who doesn't know how to live in peace. In war, hating the enemy is necessary, both because it gives people someone to blame for the horrors of their lives, and also because how could we go on living if we truly understood what killing really meant. What would it do to our psyches to love the enemy, to try and understand where they're coming from? Would we go mad from it? This is some hard shit they're making us think about. The Admiral won't let Tigh kill Narcho because he knows that no amount of bullets will weed this hatred out of his people, and that Narcho's hatred is grounded more in fear than anything else. Fear both of the past, and of the future. He won't let Tigh, his Cylon brother, shed any more blood.

Which brings me to Gaeta. I talked last week about my hatred for Zarek, and I would like to reiterate that. Some people feel that Zarek was justified in his actions, but I don't believe it. Zarek is what happens when good intentions rest in someone's head who believes with every fiber of his being that the ends justify the means. Gaeta is what happens when good people become so disillusioned that bad people like Zarek become saviors. And, this episode is what happens when formerly good people realize that what they've done is not what they've meant to do. I don't believe that Gaeta truly understood what he was starting. He was too much of an idealist. The mutiny crumbles under his feet; it can't hold the weight of all the blood and the guilt. Good people died -- on both sides -- for nothing. There is blood staining the scales of justice; Gaeta's righteousness is permanently tainted by the deaths of the Quorum, of Jaffee, and -- eventually -- the Admiral and the President and all those he once considered family. You can see it in his face more and more as time passes; this isn't how he meant it to be. Gaeta didn't want to admit that these kinds of things, these revolutions, require payment in blood, which automatically taints any form of idealism or romanticism that he may have had. But Zarek knew; he knew there would be blood. But it's not only the blood of the dead that is on the scales, it's the blood in Gaeta's heart, the love he holds deep down under all the anger. He loves the Admiral. He loved his job. Once upon a time, he even loved Gaius Baltar. He even loved a Cylon.

Some final thoughts. The new six, Lida, is just beautiful. When she came on screen I just blurted out, "Wow, she is so pretty," and then Lindsay goes, "You just like her hair." And then everybody laughed at me, because it's true. But seriously, prettiest Six ever. I was also very proud of Baltar this episode; he was almost frighteningly honest about his cult, and about his customary cowardice. The affection he feels for Gaeta also endears him to me; I loved their last scene together, mostly because Gaeta was so very angry at Baltar (remember that time he stabbed Gaius with a pen?  -- that was awesome) for such a very long time, and only now can he understand how someone could do such horrible things without even meaning to. He did them, too. When Zarek told Gaeta that the truth is told by whoever is left standing, I wanted to karate chop him. What a fucking cliche. Grow a brain. Oh, wait, you can't. You dead. Sam and Kara:  when it comes down to it, like the Admiral, she loves him. It doesn't matter if he's a Cylon, he's her Sammy. Also on the Kara front, I love her guerilla pee-pee attack on that dude, and I also love that Kara's the one doing the attacking, not Lee.

Another random bad-ass moment of the night goes to Romo Lampkin for stabbing the marine with the pen (and then going back for his shades), which was both a cheesy metaphor for writing and also a nifty callback to that whole Gaeta stabbing Gaius thing. Chief was pretty awesome for the whole episode as well. I loved him crawling around the walls of the ship, and then getting stuck like Winnie-the-Pooh and getting a gun shoved into his face by the guy who blew up Baltar's first lawyer. Aaron Kelly is his name, and he's been having doubts. I thought that bringing back this character was a really effective choice on Michael Angeli's part. His turn from being a traitor back to a loyalist perfectly encapsulates the violence and the terror and the guilt of the whole situation. When faced with Chief, an old friend, alone in a room, he can't bring himself to kill. He can't condone the murders of an entire governing body, and he isn't afraid to ask for forgiveness. And lastly, I love that Chief was the only one to think of disabling the ship with his bare hands. Gaeta and the revolutionaries are so caught up in their war of ideas that they don't think about the heart of the matter. The Chief is literally crawling around in the body of the ship, seeing the damage. He crawls through shit and blood, cuts his hands up ripping apart the FTL. He's always been the practical one, steady. And speaking of the Chief some more, how about those three huge gashes in the bulkhead of Galactica? The old girl doesn't have much time left, does she?


countdown to nothing, day eight

For those of you who actually care (you are the better people), my Battlestar Blog will be up tomorrow afternoon sometime, as I've spent all day today herding liquefied snot from my sinuses into the sink (also I finished How I Met Your Mother Season Three -- must decide whether to catch up on Season Four illegally or to just wait for the DVDs). Guys, seriously, this one time I'd just taken some Afrin, which makes me sneeze, so I had all this fluid back up in there so I got up to go blow it out, and next thing I know, it migrates as one entity down my throat and winds up in my mouth. Didn't even have to blow my nose; it was kind of awesome.

But, before I retire to my bed to bemoan my piteous fate, here is your eighth clue:

Latest Month

February 2009
"Shepherd Book always told me, if you can't do something smart, do something right."
Jayne Cobb

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