May 2006

They certainly lose a lot in this series.

Lance LeGault is in this one. Wooo. Apollo is running from Cylons in his viper - what’s he doing out there alone? Oh - Adama tells the eager pilots who want to help him that it’s a plot to surprise the Cylons who are pursuing him. Sure enough, the minute the Cylons transmit something about him, he brakes and shoots but doesn’t get all of them. Then he’s out of fuel and has to - yes, indeed - he has to crash. Which he does. On a handy planet where people are living in the old West, if the West were able to use tinfoil as clothing.

Shot of a kid grooming a palomino pony, scolding it for growling and alerting a thieving something or other that was after their flock — I remember this now, it’s the planet of growling horses. The viper flies in low and the kid hopes on another pony and heads out, even though his mom shouts for him to stop.

Kid introduces Apollo to the way of his world, where his dad’s dead, his uncle comes around to help out on the place, and he’s never seen a ship before. Mom appears and insists they hide the viper.

Boxey races up on the bridge looking for someone to talk to. The folks tell him lies about Apollo and Starbuck and Boomer take the kid to the “bachelor officer’s quarters” - I’d figure Grandpa Adama would be a better choice, but that’s me.

Back at the homestead, Ma is rustling some grub. Meager rations. She’s got a half linen, half leather outfit on, including a leather skirt over white pants. She’s also really uptight. Evidently, her husband was killed and Apollo dampens her ire by telling her his wife was killed. They’re interrupted by a rider approaching - it’s a cylon on horseback. His chest plate is dented as if he’s been shot by bullets. He wants to know if anyone heard anything. Uncle shows up in a tinfoil cowboy hat. Kid says it’s Uncle Booties. giggle Cylon goes away, reminding them they’re behind on tribute. Somehow, I don’t think the Cylons in these parts are quite what anyone expected.

Ma explains to Apollo, after some really iffy acting/expositioning on the part of kid and uncle, that kid’s dad was a warrior dueling with Red-Eye aka Cylon Mounted Police, and she doesn’t want kid to become a warrior. So she hasn’t told him about it. “Red-Eye only kills those who try to kill him.” Uncle wants Apollo to kill the Cylon - Apollo doesn’t want to because where there’s one, there’s more, and he doesn’t want to incite the Cylons to kill everyone.

Back in the barracks, Boxey is playing pyramid with the guys - for jelly beans. Good grief. Kid wins. Wooo. Cassiopia rushes in and scolds ‘em one and all for teaching him to play cards, smoke, and drink. Aw, Boxey has to go now.

The next scene switch takes us to what we are apparently supposed to believe is a honky-tonk bar, complete with a piano and player, sci fi version, which is a funky board with lights on it and noises like someone’s whacking on an electronic harpsichord. It’s the same tune you’ll hear in every spaghetti western ever. The only one here not wearing a tinfoil cowboy hat is a boss hogg wannabe in a white suit and matching ten gallon. When Apollo saunters in and orders… didn’t catch that, Boss snaps his fingers and a guy comes over and knocks his drink out of his hand. Apollo’s in borrowed clothes so he doesn’t stand out. The guy crowds him repeatedly, so he goes over and sits with the Cylon, in the corner. And starts a conversation. The Cylon “senses” he wants to destroy him — did they assimilate a few telepaths or something? The Cylon stands and gets mouthy at Apollo; Boss tells Red Eye to SIT and he does. A chick in frilly hookerwear tells Apollo “Lacerda wants to see you.” Boss is all of five feet away - why doesn’t he just say so? Oh yeah, he’s the Boss.

“You have courage, a foolish trait.” Yeah, Boss. That’s our Apollo. Apollo says he wants to work for him. Uh huh. He leaves, rides back to the homestead on a horse painted with pseudo zebra stripes. Ma Kettle tells him the kid is out chasing lupus, which so far I’d heard as loopas until I saw them — they mean wolves. Kid’s trying to shoot a wolf and misses. He reloads and hits it just in time. Apollo shows up for a chat about being a man even when Ma thinks you’re still a kid… hmm, the boy appears to be all of ten.

Galactica, commander’s office. The Cylons aren’t pursuing. Apollo’s tactic worked, Tigh says, and everyone wants to go looking for him. Adama pontificates and froths at the mouth about not wanting to risk the fleet. Tigh flails his hands and froths back at him until he allows a patrol to launch.

Apollo talks the kid to sleep, then talks to Ma Kettle about finding the Cylon outpost to get fuel. Her cousin Jason rides up and lets them know Red Eye took half Uncle Booties’ herd of ovines. Back at the bar the Bootster rages and rants and chews scenery in the Boss’ general direction. Boss gives the signal to Red Eye, who rises from the chair and hovers his big metal hand over his gun. Draws and shoots Booty just as Apollo and friends arrive. The kid shoots at the Cylon but Apollo yanks the gun away and breaks it. Kid shrieks at Apollo and runs out. Apollo knows the Cylon won’t shoot an unarmed someone. How? I don’t know. It’s not your typical Cylon. Maybe Apollo’s telepathic too? Plus, it threatened him when he just talked to it, so I’m thinking there’s a flaw in his reasoning somewhere. Not that the writers care. The Cylon sits down.

Starbuck and Boomer are flying long and hard, seeking their lost friend, brainstorming ways to stay out longer and still have fuel to get home.

Apollo apologizes to Ma, standing outside the bar. She says he did the right thing even if no one else understands and kisses him on the cheek. He stalks off, and a bar girl calls him over to a corner. She warns him Lacerda and Marcos are plotting against him. She tells him how Red Eye came to be there; there was a crashed ship and they found one centurion still working. She knows a lot of details, handily. Enough that Apollo knows he can now shoot with impunity so he goes to his horse and straps on his laser pistol. Marcos calls him out while he’s doing so. What timing.

Boss Lacerda calls out Red Eye, and there’s a shootout! Everyone hides behind stuff. Apollo is faster than the Cylon, surprise surprise, and it falls flat then dies in a fountain of sparks. Everyone gathers round, except the bad guys, who escape out the back alley.

Back at the homestead, cute little blond kid is all ‘zap, zap, pow!’ and crowing about how he’s gonna be a hero just like Apollo. Apollo gives him a stern talking down and accidentally calls kid ‘Boxey’ which is enough to remind Ma he needs to go home and not stick around being her new baby daddy. She tells him she knows where her husband’s ship crashed and maybe there’s fuel….

The patrol finds him. Boomer lets out one of the fake yee-hah yells they do from time to time when things are going swell. Apollo is on his way home, leaving babe o’ the week to comfort her kid that he’d be back someday…. Obvious she doesn’t know about the Bonanza effect. (cf: old western tv show “Bonanza,” featuring a man and his three adult sons, who often had a lady love last an entire hour-long show then kick off in the last five minutes, usually shot, leaving her Cartwright boy free for some romance later in the series.) Otherwise she wouldn’t want him to come back.

You know, I think I’ll go clean my palate with some BSG 2003 now.

I have this problem. I don’t know if ‘problem’ describes it, really, as it depends on your point of view on the matter.

I’ve been wandering for quite a long time, trying to jump-start the muse with limited success. I find myself in an odd state of transition - I have been for a few years now, in some respects, and the longer I am in it, the less access I seem to have to whatever process it was that generated fiction. Also, I seem to have lost all perspective on the work I do turn out; deleting things out of frustration or simply forgetting they exist until I stumble across them on the hard drive has been status quo. I keep posting unfinished things on my blog only because seeing it there reminds me….

Maybe it’s that I’m not only burnt out on school, I’m burnt out on life in general. Maybe it’s just been too much for too long. I keep trudging through anyway. It’s got to get better. Right?

Note the new addition above, “Dolor.” My first BSG - comments/concrit welcome.

I installed Askimet just a bit ago. It’s a spam catching plugin for Wordpress 2.0. A few seconds after, I refreshed my dashboard. It caught 9 spam in the milliseconds after installation. One click and they were gone for good, submitted to Askimet’s shared database o’ spam and deleted from my blog.

v. impressive. Good bye, texas holdem and party poker!

Former boss called and asked if I would come in this next week and get the books in working order, cause the company is being sold. Guess that will be a pretty good deal, since he trusts me with a key and will be out of town. Me and my iPod, balancing the accounts.

At least that’s the rent paid.

Meanwhile, County to the North of Me has pronounced me unfit for their consideration, since the post office delivered my application late. That’s county mental health for you. All the clinics in town who a) rely on the county certification (tests to take, woe) process or b) rely on a county contract are not hiring til July. County Farther to the North of Me (an hour’s commute) took my app, and promised to keep it on file for a year, “pending open positions.” So I’m stuck and may as well find temp stuff in June.

Or just lie around the apartment watching Dr. Who. Peter Davison is swell, don’t you think?

I just recognized the voice that does the monologue in the opening credits. It’s the guy who played John Steed on the Avengers. Hm.

Adama climbs the lazy susan as Tigh informs us all the “fleet is panicking.” Meanwhile, Boomer’s waking up and thanking Apollo and Starbuck from inside his tube. Meanwhile, Adama is in his office telling Tigh the void is a “black sea” mentioned in the Word of the Lords of Kobol. Tigh doesn’t believe it. Adama shows him his medallion o’ shiny diamond as if that proves anything.

In another room, possibly a pilot’s lounge or something, all the women/cadets are babbling about Cylons and fighting, while Apollo tells a big-eyed enthusiastic Starbuck about a little place on a freighter he found for after the wedding, that with “a few curtains and maybe some paint” it would be “wonderful.” There’s “convincing portrayal of strong independent women,” and then there’s “trying too hard.” And then there’s “hammering the point into the audience’s brains with a sledgehammer.” Richard Hatch and Dirk Benedict look like they’re really having to work at playing this scene seriously and doing their best not to cry, laugh, or possibly both. Oh, wait - Serena just asked if they felt left out and Apollo sarcastically replies, “oh, of course not.” Am I to be faulted for thinking this was bad acting, instead of sarcasm? My bad.

Adama is shown the blip in sector whatever, somewhere behind them. It shows then it vanishes - tease! Out goes the patrol. Apollo and Starbuck are being followed by Serena, who insists she’s Apollo’s wingman and blah blah pushy pushy. Starbuck sez, okaaaay, have a nice patrol, then says he’s going to the officer’s club. Then he runs and gets in Apollo’s viper. You can almost hear the nyah nyah as he turbos out the tube into space. Apollo hustles after him, Serena goes after him, and Apollo shouts at her to go back - she threatens to bring him up on charges, nevermind how many times she’s disobeyed orders in the last ten .. centons?

Argue, argue, let’s do this, no you go home, and Starbuck takes off on his own. And promptly he’s surrounded and swearing to himself. Lucifer brings him into the Big Chamber o’ Baltar. Starbuck lights a match on a centurion’s chest. Hee. He looks up at Baltar and announces he’d trade his life for one shot at him. There’s banter, Baltar offers peace, has him taken away. His idea, as he monologues to Lucifer, is to trick them into thinking the Cylons want peace.

Apollo mourns over the radar screen. Serena wants to get married right away, doesn’t want to wait, because they’re in danger and she’s anxious and afraid. Segue to the Chamber of a Thousand Candles, and Adama droning on and handing out jewelry. Long pans across smiling faces and glistening eyes, and Adama “binds” them - just their hands - and declares them sealed. A star glimmers overhead - oh, it was so dark I didn’t notice there’s a window there. Adama’s all excited because a star in the void means Kobol, “where life began” - and then we’re there.

Wow, they went to Egypt for a shoot? Cool. Adama, Apollo and … I think that’s Serena, hike up and climb around in some rubble near the pyramids. Pa wanders off so Apollo starts necking. I swear, those crazy kids need a chaperone all the time or they just wander off task. Adama notes the arrival of the Landram, which unloads all the female pilots, and he tells them to make camp and post a guard.

Baltar is standing at the base of his high chair, wearing … tights and boots? Auditioning for Robin Hood, hmmm? Lucifer tells him a star appeared “out of nowhere” in the void and led the humans to a “dead planet”. Baltar’s confused, then remembers the old story and gives out a ‘mwahahaha.’ Well, a chuckle. It’s in the tone.

Adama is strolling through ancient columns covered with heiroglyphs and talking about Eden, the largest city. He just happens to have brought the funky amulet with him and wanders into an anteroom, reads a line of heiroglyphics, and socks the medallion into the appropriate shaped hole. The door opens! Serena gasps! Adama takes a “torch” - a stick with a glowing jello mold on it - and they nearly fall into some skeletons Adama thinks are tomb robbers. He puts the medallion in another likely looking hole and opens some bars, and they walk on into the chamber he claims is the tomb of the ninth lord of Kobol. Awestruck, he kneels at the sarcophagus, and Baltar strolls in from another direction.

Adama jumps up and starts to strangle Balt — cut to sunset over pyramids! — to strangle Baltar. Apollo stops him, only to have Baltar make a long speech about all his sufferings and claim to be there to tell them he was supposed to lead them into a trap, but he’s not going to do that - he’s there to tell them the Cylon empire is in chaos and a single battlestar could end them forever. Adama says “the tongue of an angel and the soul of a snake.” That about sums it up.

Baltar wants them to pretend to be his prisoners and dangles Starbuck as bait. Everyone’s suspicious, but Apollo’s ears perk up at the news of Starbuck. Adama blabs out that he thinks Earth exists and he’s gonna look for it. Great.

Lucifer is in the Big Chair. Centurion in a kilt comes in. They talk. Lucifer doesn’t trust Baltar and suspects a double cross; he wants Powah! and Glorah! Halle-lu-ya! Though he doesn’t sing gospel, the sentiment is there behind his flashing red eyes.

Serena and Apollo are pitchin’ woo in their typical stilted fashion when Starbuck shows up and tells him about the base star. Why are there so many people on the ground? How many people does it take to look around in a tomb? Apollo darts off to find Pa with Baltar in tow. Adama, who’s wandering about the tomb for no apparent reason, snaps at him for not following orders and taking Baltar to the Galactica; Apollo says he decided not to, cause he wants to protect the council etc. What a good officer he is, ignoring the president and his military superior officer.

Star shine through a high window lights up the chamber suddenly, and Adama hurries around to look up - the light hits his shiny medallion and bounces around a few times until there’s a shining blue triangle of light. Then the sarcophagus opens. Baltar scurries, Adama shouts at him, and everyone hustles down some steps into the actual tomb, where the actual sarcophagus is. Baltar immediately tries to open it. Apollo unconvincingly tries to struggle with him and the thing falls open to reveal an unbandaged mummy holding a gaudy gold spraypainted scepter with two huge gems of red and blue. Baltar snatches it up as Adama burbles “you dare touch the sacred crypt” — Baltar doesn’t believe in that claptrap until the place shakes and rocks fall, at which point he hollers an apology. Yeah, too late for that. They’re trapped.

New word - meggon. Apollo says they’re using 50 meggon loads - meaning the Cylons are attacking, which they are. The camp is going up in flames and people are running to vipers.

Adama, do something! Baltar shouts. Whatever happened to hyper-competent Baltar, commander of the base star?

Tigh is fussing about on the bridge and wishing there were warriors aboard. You know, that’s pretty doggone dumb, leaving the fleet unprotected that way. Sounds like all of them went down to the planet and set up tents - though what they were doing all that time Adama was just pacing around inside the tomb, gods only know. Did they really need fifteen or so people on the ground to watch the commander pace? Also, are there only twenty viper pilots in the whole fleet? Good grief. The formerly sick pilots arrive from sickbay, weak as kittens, but Boomer reminds Tigh that vipers are flown from a seated position, so it’s not like being able to stand is a prerequisite. Uh huh. We want dizzy, lightheaded, weak pilots at the controls of sophisticated machinery we can’t easily replace. Yeah.

Vipers are coming! The vipers are coming! so are the cylons! Lots of stock footage of flying ships firing and exploding. Starbuck’s having to nanny the girls through their maneuvers. Meanwhile the sleepytime gang, fresh from sickbay, are taking off.

Back in the tomb, everyone’s dusty and Adama’s ecstatic. He’s found instructions. Another volley hits the pyramid overhead, sending clouds of dust and chunks of rock flying - the door’s open, but the heiroglyphics Adama was reading are in pieces. What a tradeoff, eh?

More vipers shooting cylons. More cylons flying around. And Baltar’s trapped under a rock. Run, Adama! Run Apollo! “You have not heard the last of Baltar!”

Adama and Apollo and Serena head for the surface, where they’re met by Starbuck and some chick whose face I can’t make out. “We’ve got to get off the surface as soon as possible.” No sooner does Adama utter the magic words than centurions appear and shoot Serena before being shot. Cue dramatic dying scene, complete with stricken looks all around.

She makes it back to the ship, long enough to be tucked neatly under a sheet before making her farewell speech to her son. This scene isn’t half bad, actually. No anvils, no hammy acting. Pa takes Boxey from the room and Apollo cries with her to the bitter end. Which we don’t see, because we cut to the hall outside where everyone else is gathered, hugging each other. Apollo takes Boxey by the hand, leads him down the hall, and has the talk of ‘everything will be okay.’ Credits.

Why are the female cadets “girl warrior #x” in the credits?

It’s memorial day weekend here in the states. Have a good holiday!

“Your sister’s a pilot!” Serena yelps at Apollo in the teaser. Wow, could’ve fooled me. I thought she was a button-pushing bridge decoration.

After the credits (accompanied by the Trumpets of Pomposity and Grandiosity that is the theme song) we are treated to a long painful dinner party wherein Apollo announces his engagement to Serena, Athena smiles at Starbuck, and Starbuck panics, goes hubba-wubba-huh and scrambles from the room. More or less. Aaaand, patrol launched. Our Guys are in vipers and flying, seven minutes into the episode.

Cut to three base stars floating in space. Replay of the Baltar meets Lucifer scene, plus some oozing from Lucifer about having the most capable centurions in the universe. Aren’t they all sort of the same?

Our viper guys run across a dead patch of space, that’s… blacker and emptier than usual. Starbuck wants to go in, Apollo jets off himself - there’s that headstrong reckless thing again. They lose contact. “Oh, frak.” Starbuck is left wondering what to do now that Apollo’s lost… in space.

Guards? Security? break up an apparent bachelor party for Apollo before it starts. “where are you getting your victuals?” Who the heck says ‘victuals’ when they mean ‘beer’? Tigh shows up to shoo the security officers away and scold the ‘kids’ for stealing from the officer’s rations, then enables them in their debauchery by encouraging them to continue.

‘millicenton’? geeze.

Starbuck is flying into the void, outlining his plan as he goes, and hears nothing from Apollo so keeps flying. He finds Apollo, does a 180 and leads them home. “Let’s go home, buddy.” Elsewhere, Jolly and Boomer “pick up some crazy readings off that asteriod” and go on down there to investigate. Now, that is one habitable asteroid - no suits or breathers, and they’re stalking up to the cylon base just fine.

Baltar is sitting in a Big Tall Chair. Lucifer arrives bowing and scraping, and Baltar thinks he’s in charge. Good thing for the cylons these folks are so dumb. They saw the scouts near the ‘listening post’ and let them go, per Baltar’s orders. Looks like a plan is in the works.

Jolly and Boomer are nearly back to Galactica and Jolly’s driving drunk or something - he’s sweating and having trouble keeping his nose up. On the bridge, Pa Adama points at the wall o’ planets and orbits drawn all in red and points at the same sector we were in last episode - come on, Pa, show some progress.

Apollo’s party is in progress already and Jolly falls down. Boomer isn’t having fun, either. Turns out they forgot to go through decontamination and now people are getting sick. Great, now we can get lots of medical technobabble. People are feverish and doc tucks them into hermetically sealed tubes for safekeeping.

On the bridge, Pa is sitting in his easy chair, which is mounted on his lazy susan. The news arrives that people are falling over feverish - my, what a short incubation period this virus has. Plus, you know, it was an asteroid, all dust and rock, so I’m a little confused at this point. Also about the ‘walking around without a space suit’ thing. Still. Anyway, Pa’s all upset about it and immediately rushes all the way down to where the party’s happened - yes, the president of the quorum and military leader and father figure to all rushes in where the contamination broke out first, and exposes himself. Then announces a quarantine and proceeds to walk back to the bridge. What?

Apollo, who happened to be on the way himself, was there too - so what does he do? He goes and argues with his bride to be about her being a cadet pilot in training because he wants her to be safe. DUDE. And he picks up the kid and kisses on him. And makes up with fiancee and necks for a bit. DUUUUUUDE. Way to pay attention. Have fun sweating in a tube in sickbay with the whole family.

Pa’dama arrives in sickbay to announce that half the bridge crew are down — OF COURSE they are, Typhoid Adama! And now you’re breathing on the doctor! And I think he knows about the sick people. You know? Go be useless somewhere else.

Which he does. He reads a few things on a screen featuring pictographs/stick people and big all-caps lettering. Apollo comes in and he informs #1 Son that the cadets need to be in the cockpit pronto because the illness is sweeping the squadrons. Guess Adama and his son are immune or something? Apollo hands Pa the roster on his way out and Pa looks properly chagrined at seeing Serena on the list.

Off to the briefing room, where it becomes clear to me that the straps and shiny body suit I saw Athena wearing are really a pressure suit worn by pilots. Wow, guess she really is a pilot, even though she doesn’t fly anything. Unless she flies the Galactica itself, which is like, whoa. What isn’t clear is why she practically climbed in a locker when Starbuck came in, and now she’s lounging around in public in one - cause there she is with the other cadets, who are shuttle pilots. And all of those cadets Apollo is facing now are women, and all of them are wearing those pressure suits. Serena gets Captain Apollo’s attention to whisper ‘I love you’ and embarrass him in front of the other kids. Someone giggles. I swear, we are stuck in Sweet Valley Galactica. I’m just waiting for Tigh to show up and start handing out detention.

Back in sickbay, Cassiopia is helping doc tend the pilots he’s put in suspended animation. There’s been no transitional scene or explanation for her sudden shift from prostitute to nurse. Did she have a crash course between episodes? Doc goes up to the bridge and climbs the lazy susan to announce that the only hope “those boys have” is going back to the strange asteroid with an atmosphere.

Athena is in the simulator targeting a cylon. She shoots, she scores, she also hits Starbuck in a simulated way. Apollo’s supervising but gets called to the bridge. Pa and Ap argue about whether they’re ready to fly for real. I guess Pa wins, as we swiftly move to shots of pilots getting into vipers and taking off. There’s tension on the bridge until all are launched, then cheering breaks out.

The door on the base star sounds like sabers being drawn. Probably is. Lucifer informs Baltar that the fleet is heading for the “magnetic abyss, possibly endless, etc.” in other words, the colonials are doing something illogical. Baltar thinks things are going well, that Adama will just hand over Galactica without firing a shot — geeze. Keep your fantasy life to yourself. He wants to capture a colonial pilot. “By your command.”

The warriors argue, Apollo issues a verbal slapdown to the mouthy woman who dares assert that he not go it alone to get the sample from the dead asteriod to figure out the mysterious disease/virus/whatever. Apollo takes off, and soon after (like, seconds) a cylon shows up. Starbuck sends the wimminfolk off so he can shoot it, Athena won’t go. “I’m your wingman.” He tells her to hang back and not shoot him. He shoots, he scores, they peel off and go after Apollo.

The other wimminfolk are disobeying orders and following Apollo in, but I’m sure that will turn out okay since there are no consequences for disobeying orders. Much flying about and shooting as the women shoot cylons and the base itself, until everything’s destroyed and they can get the medical shuttle, which we never actually see, in to collect whatever they need.

And Baltar is surprised that the colonials are heading into the abyss, and can’t understand why they destroyed the listening post/base. He insists the cylons capture a patrol. Credits.

Wow. No one crashed. Maybe that’s in part 2.

Lost: ????? !!!!!! O_O

Sopranos: I can tell they’re winding down. Last season. Plots and subplots adrift, everyone seems complacent.

Dr. Who: Ten is so cute. Rose is still an annoying little girl at times. WTF Mickey? Of all the places they’ve been, why there? ( am still remembering last week’s of course, no direct access)

Recently Acquired: TOS season 3, Deadwood Season 1 (which I had rented previously but want to rewatch), most of Grey’s Anatomy, and Babylon 5.

In related news, today is officially my Day of Loafing. I have ice, margarita and mudslide materials, munchies, books, and enough tv watching goodness for weeks of lounging about. It’ll be just me and the crazy cats loafing about shedding.

Tomorrow, I will finish paperwork at clinic, see the final two clients, hug everyone good-bye, and come home to renovate the resume, prowl the want ads, call to follow up on apps, and otherwise continue the launch process. And also call the temp agency to announce availability.

Written as the eps play in front of me. The first three seem to be collected into a single three hour lump - hmm.

“Saga of a Star World?” Isn’t that, like, any planet you could name? What worlds don’t have stars?

It’s 1978. The premise… not half bad. The actors… not so bad either. The special effects… plastic. The execution… well. Sometimes okay, sometimes wince-inducing.

We are introduced by scenes full of “as you know, bob”-isms to the scenario - the cylons want peace. We are clubbed with it numerous times, as well as with Adama’s disbelief/reticence/misgivings. I must say Lorne looks much better in the dark blue/silver trim uniform with cape, than in the jumpsuit version. John Colicos is a butter-won’t-melt-in-my-mouth Baltar, and we can tell right away that he’s The Bad Guy(tm). The president is ineffectual and appears to have a bad case of the dumb.

A small contingent of Cylon raiders shoots Zak out of the void. Dang. He was way cuter than his older brother. Gun turrets fire! Lasers zwhing through space! Jolly and Boomer take turns shooting at the enemy. The explosions sound like good ol’ fashioned terrestrial explosions - in fact, they all sound like the same explosion, as it was no doubt taken off the tape labeled “stock sound effects.” The base ships are missing! Where are they? Adama realizes with dismay what it means, and climbs up on the lazy susan command deck to call the president and rub it in that he was right, the prez was wrong. (The little round platform spins slowly for no reason, seriously. Unless it’s generating its own gravitational field?)

A battlestar is destroyed! And another! Colonel Tigh, using a laser pointer on the gigantic colony map grid, shows what long range scan hath found — base stars heading for Caprica! Oh nos!!

The bug-headed Cylon orders the attack. Cylons aren’t human-looking, nor are they all human-created robots, and I’m missing Six in her scant red halter/dress. Base stars spit out ships, which do barrel rolls and plunge into atmosphere. Flash to Galactica - light speed for home! Adama calls to his faithful crew. Leaving the vipers behind? “There’s gotta be a good reason” Starbuck sez. Flash to Caprica - look, it’s Jane Seymour! A very young, pretty Jane reporting on peace, just as raiders begin to fire on the city behind her. She’s standing on a chess board in front of some buildings. Now she’s looking for Boxey, who actually has a real dog - excuse me, daggit - at the moment. And the flag burns. And people run. A big concrete wall falls on the daggit! Things blow up just as they do on back lots at MGM and Paramount. Strangely, the cameras keep rolling and transmitting into space so we get shots of Adama, imitating Lorne Green woodenly comforting Athena, who weeps unconvincingly for her little brother. And now the base ships are heading for the outer planets, having wrecked the inner planets.

Adama does something we know Olmos-Adama probably wouldn’t — he demands a shuttle to go looking for someone on Caprica. Apollo wants to take him in his viper. Of course, we have to make the disaster personal by having Adama prowl through the wreckage of his house looking for his wife. We’ve had the dead pet shot to establish sympathy for animals and kids, let’s get the mourning husband angle. Woe! Woe!

Miles of shots of vipers flying. Starbuck’s cockpit is sparking and smoking. He taps the gauge (that used to work on my friend’s Pinto, too) and flips lots of little switches around. He’s coming in hot! Random people look like they might be crying, and Athena nearly breaks her neck rushing to the landing bay to ask “are you alright?” And now we have time for an argument. I suppose this is to set up the ongoing tension of “will Starbuck and Athena get together?”

The burnt out Casa Adama. He doesn’t find what’s left of his wife, just a box full of pictures that managed to not burn, so Adama can talk to the static image of his wife. And here come the hordes of survivors who now want to cram themselves into Apollo’s viper and escape! But Father Adama has shifted into Super!Grieving mode, and must monologue. The necessity of leaving and getting back to the only surviving battlestar be damned. The mob is about to tear Apollo apart, but Jane Seymour stops them, and now… stilted dialogue to inform the masses what’s happened. “Let the word go forth to every man woman and child…” And the little ships fly out into the air in front of the painted representation of a solar system and dangle on wires in front of black velvet sprinkled with white paint, thus becoming the ragtag fleet we saw in front of the same sparkled canvas every week.

Baltar on a carefully arranged set complete with barren trees and a confused sky that can’t decide whether the sun is setting or it’s just cloudy - robot Cylon #2,345 informs him that the fleet escaped. “What? They must all be destroyed!” I know you didn’t like your mother in law, Baltar, but this is going too far! For someone who wants to dominate the human race he’s sure bent on killing them all. Maybe he has a realistic idea of how many are manageable for him - say, 10.

Oh, here’s a scene I remember - Athena undressing in a locker room to reveal random straps on her legs and arms that I suppose must be futuristic underwear, though the bunk is inconveniently placed between her and the camera to conceal the really revealing bits. And the nekkid parts I see are shiny, like a flesh toned spandex suit perhaps? And Starbuck bursts in and can’t look at her, and she hides in a locker, and there’s a long bad exchange about how long term relationships aren’t Athena’s cup of tea, and it’s sort of maybe not going to work between them and if you think my summary’s bad? you should hear the actual dialogue. It’s more vague.

Everyone’s working on the fleet trying to keep it going. Everyone’s arguing. People are living in horrible crowded conditions… and while it’s unconvincing that these folks are still neatly dressed in colorful pantsuits and skirts, with combed hair, it’s still something we didn’t see much of on BSG 2003, at least not so early. We’re still in the first (second?) episode here. Starbuck takes Cassiopia back with them, as well as lots of wounded, and finds out she’s a prostitute. She was getting flack from a woman that we find out is a member of a sect that doesn’t believe in physical contact between genders, except when blessed by some high priest at some ceremony that happens every seven years. Hmmm, they didn’t look Vulcan.

The insect Cylon issues orders to a centurion to get Baltar into action.

Serena, aka Jane Seymour, meets up with Apollo and wants help with her son Boxey. They wander through a crowded section of a transport between hanging sheets of jaggedly-torn bubble wrap. Props department must have used the packing material from the last shipment of Cylon armor. We have a scene with a kid that should have been cute and touching but ends up being treacly and accompanied by a soundtrack straight out of a Care Bears cartoon. Awww, Serena likes him.

A rich dude is hording food. Boomer and Apollo motivate him to share. “Sire” Uri is a member of the new Quorum of 12.

We get a long, boring look at a long tube the doc is using on Cassiopia’s broken arm - a regenerator, aka a flashlight with a red bulb in it, brought to you by the same props people who gave us bubble wrap curtains. She comes out and Starbuck trots off with her arm in arm after he says he’ll find her a place to stay.

A council meeting. “Sire” Uri wants to go to Boralis for food. Apollo wants to go to Carillon instead, by a short route rather than the long way that apparently is traditional, sending a team of fighters out to clear an inconvenient mine field. He expects, and gets, Boomer and Starbuck to volunteer. And now Apollo and Pa Adama are fighting about it, spewing cliches at each other, dramatically pitching metaphors and stalking around the room.

Back in Chez Bubble Wrap, Apollo gets Boxey and takes him to the lab of … some scientist dude. SD talks about having to make a fake daggit for a lot of trumped-up reasons that wouldn’t convince a four year old. Out comes the chimp in the daggit suit, complete with spinning ears. It earns Apollo a bump of the forehead with Serena. No kissing in front of the sprog!

Athena goes looking for Pa and finds him drinking and angsting about the horrors of confronting terrified colonists on what was left of Caprica. “I don’t want to do this anymore, wa wa wa.”

Starbuck shows Cassie his phallic symbol viper and then follows her into a launch tube so Athena can just happen to walk through looking for him, see him necking on a monitor, fly into a jealous rage, and vent steam into the tube. “That little snake.” Yes, let’s boil him alive! How dare he take her request for no relationship seriously and kiss someone else!

Fortunately, he survives to “volunteer” to go shoot mines. By now you’re thinking I’m just shifting abruptly for the sake of brevity, but the cuts are quite abrupt with no sense of passage of time; for all I know, Starbuck is still blistered and scalded and riding around in a viper slathered in Noxema. The toxic cloud they’re flying in is doing inexplicable things to the hulls of the ships, and they’re firing blindly at mines and blowing them up. Athena, whose function I still don’t quite understand, sits on the bridge intently punching buttons. It’s what she appears to be there for. Maybe it’s like the computer on Lost and if she doesn’t press the buttons something dire will happen? Just a few minutes of shooting mines and we’re there!

Baltar arrives to talk to Insect!Cylon, who informs him that the deal’s off, and Baltar says his understanding was that the human race be subjugated under him; Bughead says he’s going to be executed.

Starbuck and Apollo are roaming around on Carillon in armored tank-like vehicles, which I don’t see how they got it down on the planet — did they dangle it under the vipers? Boomer’s along, too, riding with Starbuck, and Serena and Boxey and the daggit are with Apollo and (I think) Jolly. WTF? You thought having Wesley on the bridge was annoying! They stop and walk up to a cave, and a chick wearing feathers (Vegas showgirl from another planet!) runs out. Starbuck guesses she’s Tauran from her accent, which I suppose means everybody’s Tauran, since it’s the same accent everyone has had so far. They walk into the gambling den of women in draped skimpy things and men in confining long sleeved robes over long sleeved shirts.

Cut to tank #2. Boxey asks why the Cylons are trying to hurt them, and why we can’t just turn them off if they’re machines. Evidently the Cylons were reptiles who made the machines which were then called Cylons, and Apollo doesn’t think there are any living reptile Cylons left, except I just saw the Bughead so that’s not very good intelligence.

Back in the casino Starbuck and Boomer watch three women, who have four eyes and two mouths apiece and sing in harmony, shattering glasses. Starbuck wants to be their agent. Man, he’s a crappy warrior. No attention to the mission. Then again, I’m not sure what that is yet, either.

In Tank #2, they find a tylium deposit. Oh, so that’s what they’re doing. Muffy the daggit jumps out and runs off, prompting a long long long sequence where the kid is running and running between yards of fake rocks screaming “Muffy!” and I sat here screaming “shut up, learn to act!” Aliens with green glowing eyes pop over a ridge and capture the adults. The bugs take them to their leader, and Apollo uses the Languatron (seriously, it’s got a big label on the front — LANGUATRON) which looks like a ginormous tv remote. Bug squeaks, languatron translates. The bugs reunite them with the kid and all is well.

Cut to scenes of shuttles going down from the fleet. Voiceover about ‘much needed rest.’ Hey, let’s give people leave and not investigate the curious coexistence of a mine and a casino. The casino is luring people into complacency as it’s designed to do.

We get a scene where Starbuck, Athena, and Cassiopia have a conversation - Starbuck is gambling and the next thing he knows, the women are sniping at each other and trying to claim a key to a suite to which they want to drag Starbuck and ravish him. Athena wins, and Starbuck’s confused, and I’m thinking he’s acting too much like a battered wife here. I wonder if they made him a woman in the new version so he’d be tougher. Apparently, it’s the females of the colonial subspecies of the human race who are typically demanding and aggressive.

A short scene with an elevator delivering people to the basement, gaping frightened expressions, and a scream - one of the Vegas transplants slaps her hands to her cheeks and does a full throated glass-breaker, and the camera blurs her face to fadeout. How 70’s.

Useless scene of bickering quorum members telling us nothing new, other than they never learn to listen to Adama. This, as I recall, was a constant theme in this series.

Cassie’s in the elevator with Anonymous Obnoxious Pilot/Redshirt, it goes to the basement, she screams - and we see people struggling unconvincingly to escape being strapped down in vaguely bee-like cells by the bugs. O_O Okay, these bugs, the Ovions, are living on a planet that appears to be a barren rock with no ecosystem. They must have come here from somewhere else. They didn’t bring groceries and now they have to kidnap stray humans who wander past? And how did this ‘resort’ escape attention prior to this when they’re obviously making people disappear?

Now it’s gone to this contrived scene where Adama meets Tigh in the hanger bay, gives him a headset, and they talk to each other across a whole twenty feet from within the cockpits of vipers. I can think of a number of problems with this if the goal is to not have eavesdroppers. Wouldn’t it be easier to scan for life signs and/or listening devices, deal with them, and have a nice quiet conversation face to face? Instead of transmitting on a frequency someone could conceivably pick up with a radio? Maybe I’m just not an expert in these matters. Pa Adama (Padama?) is worried that Sire Uri’s men will overhear. Hey, you voted the guy into the Quorum. Adama wants to “do something” and Tigh is all “whatever you say big guy - what are we doing?” Sounds like he thinks Uri is a Cylon conspirator. But Uri didn’t want to come here - he wanted to go to that other place? I’m confused. And why is there steam hissing out from under that viper? Why does Adama look so tanned? Why do I even bother wondering?

Adama wants to send bunches of people who aren’t pilots to the Big Party so Uri doesn’t know the pilots are elsewhere protecting the fleet from the impending doom. Tigh agrees and goes nancing through the bunkhouse/dorm swiping uniforms from people’s lockers. Eh? Why not just ask? Or better yet, order them to give up the goods? Or go down to storage where there are probably spares in different sizes? “Inspection”? Oh brother. I guess it’s one uniform per warrior or something.

Oh wow - Starbuck’s taking off his uniform. I had no idea there was velcro along the neckline and shoulder. It’s a stripper’s uniform!

Pa ‘dama is on the bridge giving Apollo excuses for not going to the ceremony honoring him. Apollo sez Pa’s been more of a father to him, he’s been someone he could trust and look up to — wow, I thought you could do that to a father too. Adama gets up on the bridge lazy susan and looks thoughtful and grim.

Apollo comments on strange men in uniform. Serena rationalizes seeing the strange men in uniform away by saying they’re probably retired pilots and kisses Apollo on the nose. If she keeps missing that way, we’ll never believe they’re in love! Starbuck and Boomer have the same misgivings about some guys wearing uniforms belonging to their squadron. Serena tells them not to miss their own coronation - Apollo’s gonna be king? Wha?

The Ovions report to the Cylons, receive orders from a centurion to keep the humans occupied. Starbuck and Apollo decide to go to investigate and rather than ask the folks with the uniforms who they are, head for the basement, where they see centurions marching. I still don’t understand why Pa didn’t tell them what’s going on.

Oh, Starbuck wants to ignite the tylium with his handgun after Apollo gets everyone to safety. He so SMRT! Boxey, who wandered into an elevator after the daggit, runs out and foils the plan by nearly getting bonked on the head by a centurion - why didn’t the machine shoot him? Are bonking subroutines higher on the priority list than shooting? They then rescue Cassiopia, who was captured forever ago, from being crammed into a cell in the hive - the same one I saw the bug people putting someone else into earlier. I guess they wanted her to ripen a little first?

Running, fighting, running. Frak! shouts Starbuck. There have also been mentions of yaron, centon, and other faked up time measurements. Uri is making a speech and when Apollo runs in and shouts for evacuation, Uri shouts he’s in charge - until the centurions appear and shoot, at which point he’s suddenly obedient and running. People run from the cave and get to the vehicles, which have turret guns. Muffit runs around biting centurions on the calf, which appears to disable them for some reason. The centurion falls face down on the ground, sparking. How dumb. “Shoot for the calves!” should become a colonial battle cry.

“25 microts” is the ETA of the attack fleet. Starbuck gets to hug Cassie and Boxey wants Apollo to be his daddy. Say it like you mean it, kid. They take off. Still no clue how the wheeled vehicles got to the planet, cause all I see are shuttles and vipers, none big enough to put a hummer in.

Stock footage of Cylons firing on Galactica, crashing one in the landing bay. Stock footage of vipers in formation. When the vipers show up, the Cylons turn their heads and look out the window of their ship - wow, amazing technology for detection of the enemy!

Felgercarb! I’d forgotten that one. Lots of shots of ships in action — no real indication of how many there are or how many are left. Athena is on the bridge pretending she can act. Ouch, that was a bad line. Adama doesn’t want them to pursue the base star; predictably Apollo and Starbuck go anyway and pretend they are a huge fleet of ships by chatting it up. Hey, if Cylons have to look out the window to see the enemy, it might work.

A centurion tells Imperious Leader all their ships are destroyed. Imperious orders the ship closer to the planet. When they find out there are just two vipers, they fire on the vipers, which bug out because they know laser fire will ignite tylium - predictably this happens and blows up the entire planet. Wow. Hate when that happens.

“Fleeing from Cylon tyranny, the last battlestar, Galactica, leads a ragtag fugitive fleet on a lonely quest - a shining planet known as Earth.” Uh huh.

And the epilogue. Baltar, having a bad hair day, faces another Imperious Leader, who informs him that ‘his people’ destroyed the other base star. Oh, look, the traitor’s being sent to find the fleet. To be spared from death - I figured they would have killed him already, oh well. New Imperious Leader wants a truce - again. Right. Lucifer, the pointy headed two eyed Cylon, enters the room. Ominous music. Credits!

Ensign Greenbean? eh? Oh, it’s Ed Begley.

According to the credits it was a Landram vehicle they were driving.

And that’s it for the first three episodes, all in a row. We’ve seen most of the standard BSG elements introduced - the new terms that actors can’t make sound natural, the daggit who runs off and gets the kid in trouble, the women fighting over Starbuck, No One Listens to Adama Even if He’s Always Right(tm), the viper pilots who do what they please and don’t get in any real trouble, bad science, and uneven performance from some of the less experienced actors. And now the ragtag fleet is sailing off with the Cylons coming after, to pursue other stock BSG traditions such as crashing on planets and finding other humans thither and yon.

Tune in tomorrow when I start the two parter “Lost Planet of the Gods.” Apollo will get married, and horribly written relationship discussions ensue.

I had the “email me when there are comments in moderation” unchecked, and did not remember why. So I checked it when I redid the blog layout yesterday.

Just now I got 35 emails saying there were comments in moderation. I have a plugin that forces people to fill in name and email - these are comments with no information, triggering the blog to email me but not actually leaving a comment anywhere. All of them are directed at http://www.zakhad.com/wp/1969/12/31// which is just weird because this blog wasn’t around in 1969, nor was any other blog.

Inadequate spam bot, get thee behind me.

Oh look, ten more emails. It’s really slamming the blog.

I have managed to acquire the first series, the Lorne Greene, Dirk Benedict, Richard Hatch version. I did so out of a misplaced fit of nostalgia.

I started to watch the first episode and was promptly knocked on the floor by the badness of the dialogue. OH, it is bad. Over the run of this series, they had some decent actors - Jane Seymour in a recurring role, and loads of others whose names I remember (I looked at the credits of many eps at random). The crappy writing makes it excruciating. I immediately felt the urge to MST. Followed quickly by the urge to run screaming for my Farscape/DS9/BSG 2003 dvds. Heck, this writing makes TNG season 1 look like Oscar material.

So maybe, before I suffer permanent brain damage anyway, I’ll post summaries of the old BSG eps. Because I’d like to do a little good in the world, and this’ll spare you just in case you question whether, out of die-hard fannishness, you should revisit the BSG of yore. Because you shouldn’t, really.

I honestly did not remember the ep where Starbuck finds his father. Nor the one where they find a ship full of cryonically suspended humans they think are from Earth… hmm, wonder where they got that idea from?

I’m turning into a housewife. For the first time since I was… 19, I am unemployed. I had intended to get in some quality loafing before signing up for temp work. Today I took the stepcat to the vet, tomorrow I’ll probably end up taking Roommate’s car in to the dealer for a flat repair, and I’ll also likely be scheduling and implementing stepcat’s surgery. Poor woobie has a cyst that keeps ballooning on her lower lip. I’ve also been cleaning house and talking to the pest control guy, who stuck a glue trap in our water heater closet (yay, being kept up by squeaking stuck rodents!). I’m just waiting for my Official June Cleaver Club kit to arrive, thank you.

Yeah, no kids. But if you have to be a housewife, do it without the kids. Otherwise in addition to the boring to-do list above, there would be boring details about soccer practice and homework.

Anyway, the county is wrecking my launch into my new career. Turns out that every clinic and agency in town (all the ones I’ve called, anyway) relies on a county contract, and since the county has frozen their own hiring and essentially everything else related to mental health, any clinic/agency who isn’t the county also does nothing but collect resumes and apologize for the delay. I may have a relaxing summer.

Which I won’t really mind much. Wake me in July.

Much better. Widgets and library are working, I’m ready for business.

Thank you, Penny, Rocky, Jerie and Pam! Not only for the congrats, but for showing up — here I was thinking I had a readership of one or two…. Have to clean the place up.

Which isn’t the reason for the upgrading and new themes and so forth, but it could be one reason, I suppose. I like the new Wordpress - the dashboard is spiffier. But I’m having problems getting the widgets to work, and the new book review plugin isn’t showing the review or the library. I think I’ll focus on the widgets first.

Speaking of the book reviews - I’m putting together a reading list of authors and books and so forth. I figure now I’ll have time to get back to Power Reading. And when I am reading lots, I tend to write more….

Late to the party as usual, but happy birthday, Jerie! Hope your day was filled with fun, friends and a really good birthday cake, since we all need a little decadence on our natal anniversary.

Some changes in the works. An upgrade, a new look, possibly a shift of content…. Stay tuned.

I think I’ve been to more baby showers than any other sort of organized gathering. Yesterday I went to one for my friend T - she had two, actually, and this one was the friends-family-people she works with shower. (Don’t know what the other one was, think it was at work or something.)

I made my gift(s) - several Saturday afternoons when I should have been studying, I made afghans, hats, and a floppy blanket bunny. She registered at a baby gear store and everyone else (18 of us came) went there. Due to a screwup with the registry she now has four strollers in addition to the miles and miles and piles and boxes and bags of blue baby clothes - onesies, overalls, shorts, shirts, hats, socks…. When it came to my gift, she opened a plastic sweater box that I used for the container - everyone exclaimed over what a clever idea that was, but mom-in-law (who is totally cool) turned to me and said “that’s right, you lived there,” meaning the six months I spent living in one of their seven bedrooms after having my apartment burgled, meaning I know she needs airtight, bugproof, rodentproof storage. And then the different items were passed around and ooooooed over - “you made this? really?”

A lot of showers I’ve gone to in the past, afghans were a popular gift. Easy to make, especially for a baby as they’re smaller, and economical when yarn was less expensive. But at this one, people got practical or cute and keepsake-oriented gifts, like the handprint/footprint keepsake plaque kits; she got several for memorializing how tiny the little guy will be. Lots of clothes, lots of soft microfiber this n that, a huge basket of diapers in various sizes and wipes and lotions and potions, a couple of blankets covered with puppies and kitties. And there’s me and my yarn art. One lady said “I keep trying to knit and only get a few rows at a time.” Thing is, if she kept trying, a few rows at a time are all it takes.

I also met a massage therapist at the shower. How many people invite their masseuse to their baby shower? My friend has a habit of picking up friends from all walks of life - the house it was at was probably one of the million dollar domociles and the hostess casually mentioned her second house in…. Yeah. Not really a place I feel comfortable. But I took pictures, and laughed, and asked questions of everyone I sat next to, and some of them I’ve met before and others I didn’t know, and it was all good. But it’s probably the last shower I’ll attend for a while. Most of my friends are done with childbearing.

For I am graduated!

I would post a picture but Roommate took them with my cheap camera, and they all came out dark.

And now commences the week of… sleeping in.

falls dramatically into bed

Britney Spears Stumbles, Nearly Drops Baby - Yahoo! News

Other possible headlines we’ll never see:

Woman Swerves on Freeway, Nearly Hits Barrier While Driving With Four Children in Car

Drunken Man Almost Hits Two Telephone Poles, Fourteen Cars, Fire Hydrant, Dog Walker with Schnauzer, Poodle and Dalmatian (plus An Assortment of Mutts), and One Child - But He Made It Home Okay

Woman Trips On Stairs While Wearing Heels and Nearly Falls on Child

Of course, they reported because IT’S BRITNEY OMG! and while I don’t care much for the ditzy tartlet, it bothers me that she isn’t afforded the luxury of being human. Because things ALMOST happen all the time - I see them everywhere. I’ve had more near misses on the road than I’ve had accidents, and seen more of them as well. I’ve seen more near-tragedies with kids lately because I’ve had more exposure to them - the clinic shares a building with a medical office, a dentist, and a charter school. It happens. So reporters go away and come back when something really is news, and not ALMOST news.

Overall, the cats - one decrepit, one declawed - have caught six mice since we moved in. Five of them in the past week.

I left a few days ago in the morning, noting on my way out that the cats were sitting near the bookcase too close together - they never sit that close unless something’s up. But I had to leave, so I did. And when I got home they were still there.

I sat at the computer for a few moments before they raced through the apartment into Roommate’s bedroom, where they sat in front of his smallest bookcase near his bed (yes, we have five bookcases). And that was when I saw the mouse.

The Great Mouse Hunt lasted for a few hours, as the cats dashed around after it, while it tunneled under the sheets on the bed, scrambled into the mess of wires behind the desk, romped into the bottom shelf of one of the other bookcases and hid behind the collected works of Cherryh. I think by the time Roommate got home his bedding and most of the books were in one corner, the cats were bouncing off the walls, and I was tired of looking under things. The mouse was nowhere to be seen. We found it again once before it vanished again. Roommate was ready to start moving the heavy stuff when I, poking around with his walking stick, found the fuzzball cleverly hiding on the hilt of one of Roommate’s Japanese swords propped up in a corner near the bookcases. One waste can ride to the dumpster later, no more mouse.

Until five minutes later, when the other mouse raced from under the bookcase in the living room. Fortunately that one was quickly wastecanned.

This morning, declawed cat kept running over to a small cupboard we use for a phone stand. I told her, look, no mouse - and opened it up and there was a mouse, sitting there on the phone book. At which point I shut it again, went to the clinic, came home, opened the cupboard and used the kitty poop scoop to pitch the mouse into the waste can. Off to the dumpster!

I think I’ll get a bunch of traps. I’m tired of waiting for Orkin. If a declawed cat is doing a better job than management’s “professionals” it’s time to take things into my own hands.

I wanted to like Equilibrium. It has Sean Bean and Christian Bale, pre-Batman. It has black leather. It had no kickass chick, but I could forgive that given adequate plot and/or action.

I didn’t like it. Oh, there was action, but it wasn’t quite what it could have been. There was decent acting. The problem was the plot itself. The world portrayed made no sense at all. The setup is pretty standard sci fi — post-apocalyptic world wherein people are under the thumb of some Big Government Doing It All For The People. Everyone takes a dose of Prozium every time the alarm goes off. This eliminates the cause of all violence, i.e., people’s feelings. Father is on every tv screen, every window, every wall, and a bunch of blimps for good measure, preaching the good word of peace and harmony. While people who squirrel away art and music and refuse to take the drug are hunted down and killed with machine gun toting psychopaths - no feelings, no remorse, just doing my job, ma’am. And this is the part that makes no sense — it’s sort of like those early TOS episodes where Spock didn’t show any emotions, except Nimoy totally couldn’t make his facial expression emotionless consistently, so you got someone who speaks in monotone and pulled these faces…. Except that was Spock. I loved Spock. I believed in Spock. The cast of Equilibrium didn’t even get it as emotionless as Nimoy; everyone shouts angrily, including the head dude, and what I couldn’t get was — head dude is all losing his temper up one side and down the other, why aren’t they shooting him? They turn on other high ranking folk immediately when someone shows emotion. Oh, except when it wouldn’t be convenient for the pot.

Bale is the top dog, the #1 Cleric — sort of a ninja enforcer class with a side order of gun-fu, which is a sooper special martial art used to avoid getting shot while shooting everyone else in sight (they didn’t call it gun-fu, I do). The plot twists were there, but they were of the “yeah, right” sort. Nothing in the world building is convincing enough for anyone who thinks for five minutes. I turned off the documentary on the DVD the instant I heard someone say “the intelligence of the plot” - there wasn’t any. There were guns, and leather, and people in riot gear, and a mu-hu-hahahaHA villain, who didn’t do the laugh but might as well have. Someone could have rewritten the story a couple more times and made a better movie.

Only rent it if it’s free and you’ve seen every other movie in the universe. Unless you’re a die hard Sean Bean or Christian Bale fan. Then I would suggest a drinking game in which you take two hits every time there’s a full frontal face shot of Bale. You should be pickled by the movie’s climactic battle, in which Bale goes Kill Bill on the bad guy’s minions.

… well, it’s not, it’s just a post.

We’ve been having lots and lots of calls from people doing surveys. I figured out why the other day when Roommate answered the phone. I was happily burning a DVD, minding my own business, and I hear him in the other room politely chatting, and I thought, “huh, must be a family member or something.” Which is rare, because even though he and his whole family are on great terms he’s not one to sit on the phone a lot. Then I heard some of what he was saying. He was answering questions about his thoughts on some child-related issue, maybe no child left behind or some bond on the ballot.

Thing is, researchers are like cats - feed one of them and the next thing you know there’s a dozen ravening flea farms yowling at the door. So he leaves town for a couple days, and the phone rings every hour. Sometimes if I’m going to be home for a while, I answer because if you break the cycle by answering the computer drops your number off the list. But, unlike him, I’ve developed a series of personas to get them off the phone. Just now, I was the babysitter. Tomorrow I think I’ll be the three year old.

I suppose I could just demand to be taken off the list, or something. Maybe I’ll try that next week. It didn’t seem to work a few weeks back - they’re still calling.

The last remaining annoying beyond-my-control item on the list of MUST! BE! DONE! BEFORE! FRIDAY! was the change of an incomplete from last semester to CR, otherwise known as ‘credit’, otherwise known as ‘now I can get my degree posted on time yay’.

I just logged in at university website and it took for-frikkin-ever to finish authenticating my ridiculously-simple login. I’m picturing hundreds of other students fitfully refreshing their pages, staring at little RP symbols and swearing in the general direction of the campus, specifically the records office.

Fortunately for my sanity and the Grades Lady’s ears, when it finally loaded I had a nifty little CR where the RP used to be.

WHEW.

*breathes*

Nice Person I Know: I’m so sick of my computer crashing. My brother’s got to come over and do a wipe and reinstall.
Me: I used to do that frequently, too.
NPIK: Really?
Me: Yep. I stopped using Windows and the need to reinstall every week was gone. Also, I don’t fuss with the spyware and the malware and the virii, either.
NPIK: REALLY?
Me: Yep. I got a Macintosh.
NPIK: *o_0* But those are expensive.
Me: Perhaps, but I’ll still be using it in five years. With upgraded operating system. Possibly more memory or a different hard drive, but still. I’m quite happy with it ’cause I’m not a big time game addict.
NPIK: But when I get a laptop I’d rather spend $500.
Me: Okay, but a laptop that cheap will still have more problems than if you spent a couple thou on a Windows based nicer model laptop. In computers you tend to get what you pay for. They’re sort of like cars that way. And if you can’t fix it or upgrade it yourself, you’ll end up paying over the life of the machine as much as if you just sprung for the nice new upscale model with a long warranty.
NPIK: O_O but I don’t want to spend that much money on a laptop….
Me: Suit yourself.
long uncomfortable pause

I think I’ll shift to:

Person: I need to have my brother come fix my computer, it’s all crashing and stuff.
Me: YOU have a BROTHER who fixes COMPUTERS? Is he like single? OMG!!! SO COOL!!1! I totally love computerzzzz!!

Forever Pregnant

Treat women as if they are potential baby machines?

So clinicians must find a “way to do this and not scare women”

How about “not piss them off with butting in where they are not needed?” I don’t know a single responsible woman who while “pre-conception” did not go out of her way to study up and seek help.

I’ll tell you what a plan helpfully initiated by clinicians for me would entail. Nice tall boldface words — NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. I’LL ASK FOR HELP WHEN I NEED IT. BUZZ OFF.

Let’s infantilize the whole female population, shall we? “You can’t take care of your health yourself, we’ll do it for you.”

I had a to-do list, now I have a ‘done’ list.

1. dropped off resume at clinic that’s less than a block from my apartment and just happens to be interviewing for a new intern

2. finished two apps for two other county mental health departments

3. called a number of folks who said they were coming to graduation and then called to make lunch reservations for the group

4. returned items to a store for a refund — something I had been dreading due to 100F weather.

And now, I have the rest of the afternoon to study for the final I haven’t studied for. Wheeeeeee.

ETA: I bet I aced it, and got extra credit. Big Dumb Easy Final.

and:

5. toasted the end of graduate school with margarita in hand! YAY!

Hopefully, LizBee was able to memorialize my soon-to-be walk across the stage into infamy, complete with flapping graduate style hood and kicky heels. Twould be priceless.

The thermometer outside just topped 100F.

No wonder it was so miserable driving across town.

I posted a new-old fic in the sidebar, Tourniquet.

Home in a Handbasket will be done soon - I deleted it from here because once it’s edited up to par (or at least as close as I can get it) it’ll go to a new home on the website proper.

Still working on the other WIPs, and one is in beta (no pressure, Seema! really, I have plenty to keep me busy while I wait).

It’s nearly finals week. It’s my last semester. I blogged my way through four years of school and really not talked a wit about it, other than whining about the bureaucratic nonsense and occasional annoyance. And I find that if asked to put into words what was best, worst, etc., my memories lack specific detail.

In other words, it’s all a blur. Whoa.

Too bad a lot of the stories are confidential material.

mollyringwraith: Is This a Kissing Book? (Done proper, by Øystein Bech Gadmar)

I didn’t go to yoga tonight, because I pulled a muscle in my back putting on a tank top while getting ready to… go to yoga.

In other news, getting more broke.

In still other news, not having air conditioning in my car sucks greasy swamp water.

In still other news, not happy with the school, as once again, paperwork submitted several times has failed to be processed and “we don’t know” remains their idea of an acceptable answer. Half-tempted to demand my money back.

I may have found the solution - Mellel, which is less than a hundred bucks and especially spiffy for the academic author. Also, the only software I’ve found that originated in Israel. Am demo-ing a copy now - it opens Word files, and while I’m not certain if Word will go the other way yet, it’s worth playing with. $35 for a student version, 49 for a full version. I must say that it seems to do some things differently, and more appealingly, than Word.

Lately, Word has been throwing up a window alerting me that another installation of MS Office is running and I am not allowed to run two of the same program on the network, so it’s shutting me down. This can be very annoying when you have several long documents open and are editing like a mad thing while trying to polish a resume and finish a homework assignment.

It’s even more annoying that I am NOT in fact running two installations of the same software. I am running ONE, which I PURCHASED with my own MONEY all fair and square. So in spite of this I am being SCREWED by M$’s antipiracy measures. I am also not running it on a network, unless you count the internet - and I know that I did not upload a copy of my key or my software, and therefore no one is using them unless they’re very good guessers, and why bother? There are plenty of hacked versions floating about.

I downloaded OpenOffice the other day and was thoroughly frustrated with it - the word processor refreshes constantly on my system, and I don’t care much for typing in a disco. So I am shopping for an alternative word processor/office package, because I am soon to graduate and no longer need Office to be my primary software choice. It’s not very likely that I’ll require PowerPoint unless, at some point in the far distant future, I will do presentations, at which point I would likely pick up a copy of Apple’s office software, which is totally cheaper than M$’s version with the same functionality.

Roommate asked about the Macbook, as in, would I get one. Well, probably I would - but I wouldn’t put Windows on it. That’s a little like sticking a VW engine in a Hummer. Like, WHY?

There are yarn geeks, fabric geeks, and glue geeks - yea, verily, I have discovered a whole new world.

I had mostly stopped being crafty while in grad school. Then a friend announced a small sprog would henceforth appear, and oy, silly me. First thought I had was “let’s make something for her!”

I’ve visited the Big Chain Store of All Things Craft several times now. I have rediscovered a group of people who have a fandom of wool, cotton and acrylic. And I have been sucked in. Every time I think of Just One More Thing I Could Make Real Quick(tm), I go — and I have not just one skein of soft purple velvet spun, I have 4 oz of baby boucle, and oh my, that would make a nice vest for friend K for Christmas, and look a sale on fun fur! I could make something from fun fur! And decoupage - I did that once! And look, how neat that quilt is turning out! and all the ladies knitting - wow, I should learn to knit! And ZOMG I didn’t know you could do that with cardboard and paint! At which point I have to force myself to run, not walk, toward checkout, lest the next hobby sink its cold fangs into me.

And then when I finish a project, I have leftover yarn. Then it’s “OH if I had just a little more of it I could make — ” and another skein goes on the shopping list, which will no doubt be accompanied by a dozen other colors that just JUMPED INTO MY BASKET HONEST and now I have to make another afghan for someone Christmas-is-coming-soon!

This is how it starts. And soon, whenever someone opens the hall closet, there will be a cry of “oh!” followed by the sounds of suffocating under a pile of fluffy soft yarn.

It’s a RPG, it’s fanfic, it’s… an alternate universe. It’s also looking for people who enjoy playing the parts.

I suppose there have been AUs wherein the Dominion war was lost, and yes indeed, I have read fantastic ones. My thought was to write in a universe where not only was the war lost, Earth was destroyed — and because it’s the hub of the Federation, the whole Alpha Quadrant tumbles into chaos. The Dominion may or may not be interested in complete conquest of every little world; it may simply have been eliminating the competition, and now is taking its time in working toward complete domination. The various member worlds may also be in danger from opportunists. What world might step up to attempt reunification? What worlds might try to reinvent the Federation in their own, less comprehensive ways? Who gets together? Who isolates and tries to hide? And what about the starships and starbases, now on their own in the galaxy, not unlike Voyager, whose crew doesn’t even know about the fall of the Federation yet? How long will it be before the resources of Starfleet are claimed by various factions by whatever means, to be sold back to Starfleet vessels - or the highest bidder?

Anyone interested? Adventurous Starfleet officers, Cardassians, Klingons, Vulcans, Founders, and interested parties may come tell their story, collaborate with others as you wish, and terminate your subplot as you see fit — exit with an honorable character death, or hand off to a new recruit.

http://desolation.zakhad.com

Will it work? I don’t know. The initial setup: The Defiant was destroyed en route, before Odo reached the Founder and stopped the war. Sisko is gone. Kira is somewhere on Cardassia, status unknown. Somehow, life has to go on in the galaxy….

Cap’n Wacky’s hypothesis regarding the future length of Ronald Weasley’s hair

I hate being awakened by a cop and told that kids got into my car.

They swiped twenty cents and my yoga mat.

Say what?

Yes. Teenagers getting off on stealing some old lady’s sweat soaked exercise mat. The security guard drove through the lot and saw them running from my car. They left the gas cap cover open, the windshield wipers on, the middle compartment open, the glove box open, and there’s no clue of how they got in. It’s habitual for me to get out, lock, slam, make sure the door’s closed all the way.

Oh, yeah. A screwdriver and pliers were missing, as well as the manual for the car. oooooooooooo. Bet that’ll get two bucks at the swap meet. An allowance is so passe.

Me, angry? nawwww. It’s much easier to cope with this than having my front door kicked in. Now, that was traumatic. This, I can amuse myself imagining those kids bragging about the YOGA MAT they swiped. I’m sure it put up a valiant struggle.

It’s done. Those last couple of hours I needed are done, done, done. Now all that’s left are two short papers and a final, and I’ll have the papers finished tonight and emailed to their destinations. I have a bunch of forms for supervisor to finish. I have a stomach ache. I have a new online project, which I am still tinkering with and will link from here later in the week — I’m trying to zap the muse a little. Heck, if it fails, it’s just a deletion from forgotten.

I made someone cry today. I have to tell my clients I’m leaving. This one isn’t handling it well. I feel bad for the guy, but oy.