Kids, yo mamma is SUCH a Geek, but that season finale of Battlestar Galactica was just....intense.
Any show that can make me hot after two toasterfrakkers is a show that I should not have to wait until January to see again.
And Catatonic Pegasus Six? Right out of Abu Graib. Is Commander Cain supposed to be Cheney, Rummy and Bush rolled into one? The stuff about taking a wide privilege in time of war? Do Bush speechwriters moonlight on this show?
God. That whole tortured prisoner crap gave me chills. And not in a good way. When Baltar is the most sane and sensitive guy in the fleet, the situation is dire. Sharon and the blanket? Sheesh! That one second gave me PTSD. Must go back to fantasizing about Hot Helo and Oh-So-Cuddly Chief. Aaaah, that's better.
Okay. Sci Fi might almost be forgiven for canceling Farscape and taking me from the love of my life, John Crighton. (Ben Browder on that other Sci Fi show with the big toilet bowl they walk through to get to other planets? ... just doesn't do it for me. I wasn't in love with Ben, I was in love with CRIIIIIIIIIIGH--TOOOOON!)
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