I’m done with the first season of Battlestar Galactica! Woohoo! I know I’m late to the party, but I need something to occupy my time now that everything is in writer’s strike-caused reruns.
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Say wha? When does Xena show up?
For the record, I like the show. However, I think I am the victim of unrealistic expectations. Everyone seems so excited about the show that I thought it would blow my mind with every episode — but I think I’d describe it as “very watchable.”
In any case, here are some of my reflections as I continue to trudge through the first half of the second season.
- How is Starbuck not a lesbian icon of near-Etheridgian proportions? Or, well, maybe she already is and I just don’t know it yet because I’m not hanging out at the right dog parks. Anyhow, the tank tops, the take-no-prisoners/can-do attitude…
- I keep thinking of her as President Stands With a Fist. Because I can’t remember much that Mary McDonnell’s done since Dances with Wolves. And when I was 13, I remember going to see that movie and my mom thinking Kevin Costner was the bee’s knees. I don’t know why.
- Okay, so Edward James Olmos is totally Latino. Couldn’t be more Latino if he tried. And Jamie Bamber is the whitest boy this side of the Allegheny. Whiter than Angie Harmon on her best day. And yet they’re playing father and son. Are we just supposed to go with this? I mean, whatever. I’m just wondering.
- Gonna just put it out there — I’m getting kind of tired of Imaginary Number Six. Every scene she’s in finds her getting all up in Baltar’s business and breathing all heavy-like. It’s like the same scene over and over. I kind of think it’s just an excuse to get Tricia Helfer up on the screen so she can swing her mighty boobs to and fro. Which, I suppose, is appealing for certain demographics.
- Col. Tigh’s wife is best summed up as Cheryl Hines + Lindsay Lohan X Lady MacBeth.