While our public employees in Colorado Springs still don't have access to same-sex partner employee benefits, California takes another step away from us and down the road toward full equality. Someday we'll catch up.
In the meantime, this is fun:
You ready? K, let's do this:
It's the trailer for Joss Whedon's new show, Dollhouse, starring (gasp!) Eliza Dushku and (gasp!) Tahmoh "Karl 'Helo' Agathon" Penikett and (gasp!) some other people, one of whom is (gasp!) Amy Acker and none of whom are (boo!) Marc Blucas. Yay!
The premise of the show is pretty rad:
In Dollhouse, Dushku plays a young woman named Echo, a member of a group of people known as "Actives" or "Dolls" who volunteered for the work in the Dollhouse. They give up five years of their lives, and at the end they receive a large sum of money and no memory of anything they did for the Dollhouse. The Dolls have had their personalities wiped clean so they can be imprinted with any number of new personas, including memory, muscle memory, skills, and language, for different assignments. They're then hired out for particular jobs, crimes, fantasies, and occasional good deeds. On missions, Actives are monitored internally (and remotely) by Handlers. In between tasks, they are mind-wiped into a child-like state and live in a futuristic dormitory/laboratory, a hidden facility nicknamed "The Dollhouse". The story follows Echo, who begins, in her mind-wiped state, to become self-aware.
So watch the trailer and stuff. And hey, Joss? I love you so much. Like, deeply. You are my density. But can you please find a font more creative than Papyrus? It's sort of like using Comic Sans for your title. Just my persnickety-do!
Oh, here's a full scene from Dollhouse, where Helo is all, "What the frak?" and Faith's like, "Don't sweat it, B. I'm five by five," and then I poop my pants. Fin.
Okay.
There is no way I could in good conscience not share this with you.
I have fond memories of t.a.T.u, who are perhaps my favorite duo of Russian pop-singing fake lesbian schoolgirls, if only because I would listen to them on tour to annoy my bandmates and once, during a long, hot drive from L.A. to Phoenix, our drummer and I made up bad gangsta-rap lyrics to accompany the t.a.T.u songs, miming the gatt as we went, "Hey, Mister President, bang bang bang! Hey, Mister Ashcroft, bang bang bang!" And so on.
Anyway, t.a.T.u's back and they have a new song called "Белый Плащик" and they both get naked in the video. For real. Enjoy.
Regarding this:
We attended the Gazette''s Best Of party last night and were humbled to surprised to learn that Newspeak was honored with an award, namely "Best Place to See A Risqué Ad." We hereby accept this honor and express heartfelt thanks. We are so pleased to know you are paying attention to our advertising, if not our, er, content.
Oh, and here's the new ad we're doing for the Convention and Visitors Bureau. Mrow!
In planning for this trip, Jon and I considered a multitude of
technological options involving how to write, edit pictures, and of
course, be able to communicate with my worrisome mother. In the end,
as was the 'greenest' and monetarily most sensible option, we decided
to eschew the latest in technological marvels and lug along my 5-year
old, well-loved 15-inch Mac Powerbook.
We padded it kindly in a soft canvas case, wrapped up in a durable
waterproof 'Lifeventure' bag, and made its new home inside the comfortable middle compartment of Jon's
carry-on backpack. And for awhile, it was good. It provided some
entertainment on our lonely nights in a very dead Montevideo, thanks to
iTunes movie rental; it has successfully been the middle man in lots of
photo editing; it's wireless connection has allowed me to email my
mother on all occasions to say, "Hi mom. Good news: still not dead.
Love, Megan."
Anyway, when we arrived at our home stay in Buenos Aires last week, we
started noticing a few problems. The screen started sparkling and
wavering like a Britney video for a few days, and then more recently,
it has begun fading into complete whiteness, leaving us computer-less
and feeling rather unmoored in this great world. It was then that I
remembered one of Apple's recent recalls, and, in particular, a battery
recall named on my machine. I checked out, thanks to another
functional computer at our host family's, the web page, where Apple
told me my computer serial number was included in those affected, but I
would have to call for more information.
So I rang the good people of Apple, all the way from Argentina, where
an Australian woman put me on hold for a half an hour while she tried
to figure out how my computer's serial number fell under the affected
recall, but the actual battery number (which is inside the computer
which fall's under the affected recall), does not. She asked her
manager, and came back to me with the very astute observation: "Your
computer is 5 years old."
Now, dear readers, here is exactly where my angry consumer began to mix
with my environmental consciousness, and I became a bit fiery.
You see, before we left for this trip, I strolled into the Apple store
on Regent street and asked the tech specialists if they could install
more memory on my machine, because it was running very slow. They
looked at me, smirked at each other, and said they didn't even make
memory for that kind of machine anymore, and I would be better off
purchasing a new machine if I wanted it to run better. After realising
they were probably coached to direct me to the sales floor, I
rebuttaled and asked them suggestions to slim my computer's waistline.
We ended up chucking all our big files on a portable drive, which is
besides the point, if only to say that my poor little mac had been
rebuffed by the product-pushing bullies at Apple once previously, and
now that she was losing her screen, all Apple could do was waste about
£60 of my international phone bill and tell me I needed a new machine.
I can accept that my computer is now low on the technological totem
pole - or as one person told me, 'a functioning antique' - that lacks
built in web cams or super-duper-drives, and I can even admit that
having a new machine would perhaps make my life a teeny bit easier, but
you know what? She has done me well in the past fives years, and as
everything else on her is working admirably, I am woe to trade her in
for a sexier new model.
I guess my question is, how such 'green conscious' technological
companies like Apple, who say "environmental considerations are an
integral part of [their] business practices", can advise their
consumers to chuck away big chunks of metal, titanium, plastic and
wires every couple years, and upgrade to more, bigger, better ones.
Much like the "disposable mobile" crisis, the problem comes with
manufacturing products in such a way that they naturally only have a
minimal lifespan - often because there is lots of pressure to design,
build and release products as fast as they can in such a rapidly paced
technological environment.
I have always liked Apple products - sleek design, really consumer
friendly, and terribly easy to use - but I guess up until now perhaps I
have always had some disposable income and a mindset in which I wanted
their latest and greatest - without a second thought towards the one
that was headed for the bin. It was only when we've been considering
how to consume less, that we began to mourn the fact that there are
very, very few technological products out there that are built for the
long haul.
And man, for a company like Apple, who prides itself on fabulous
design, that is a big hit that they can't design something that can
withstand technological advances, new memory chips or even a few months
(with lots of support and padding!) in a backpack. And there are many
more companies out there like them - who push design and top new
advances, without a second thought to all the products that people are
replacing, or that some consumers might just want their favourite
little wonder to last a tad bit longer,
For now, I write on a Powerbook now sutured by half a roll of masking
tape, which is balanced on my knee in such a way that the pressure
stops the fuzzy music video affect (although the heat from the
non-recalled but still ridiculously overcharged battery might be
burning a hole in my jeans), and I am leaning over so that the power
cord is propped up by my bag and still giving the ol' girl a charge.
I am - as Jon has when he went in to get his 2nd generation iPod fixed
three months ago, only to be told they "never fix them", and he should
get a new one - going off the idea of the great technological
revolution, the wonder of MP3s and super sonic wifi phone machines.
I'd rather just keep my moral compass pointed in the right direction;
I'd rather be "a functioning antique."
If I had to provide a visual representation of my life right now, it would be an oscilloscope display with not one, but multiple sine waves on it. Each wave would represent a different facet of my life; work, kids, band, you get the idea. Usually all of the waves are modulating at different frequencies and intensities, meaning that I experience the highs and lows of each at different times. However, right now those waves are in perfect harmony and I am just coming off riding the crest of a peak and looking down the sheer slope and into a trough. Pretty bleak, huh? Just as much as I gravitate towards feel good music when I am down, there are also records that I love to listen to whilst diving head first into that trough and embracing my impending despair. I know I’m emo as hell right now. I love each of these records dearly. Not only for their ability to induce intense mood swings, but also their structure and composition. These are the records I have been using to wallow in my own self pity. Here we go…
It shouldn’t come
as any great surprise that the first place I go here is
Ok. Fuck you
Interpol's Antics
is a heartbreaker for me. It’s my quintessential breakup record and one that holds
some special meaning for me; especially song four and if you know me I might
have an interesting story for you… Every member of the band brings something great
to the mix. I enjoy unconventional vocal styles and Paul Banks definitely falls
into that category. Daniel Kessler provides some of the simplest yet beautiful melodies
on the guitar. Bassist Carlos Denlger has a very unique style of staccato octave,
almost disco-like basslines. And Sam Fogarino is probably one my favorite
drummers for never playing beyond what is required of the music. He is a human
metronome and has been a tremendous influence in how I have approached the
drums lately. I have ascribed meaning to each of the ten tracks on the record that
seem to follow the lifecycle of a relationship. Check it out: 1. “Next Exit” – Yeah,
it seems like everyone in town knows each other. How about we hang out? 2. “Evil”
– Ok. You’re just as fucked up as me, so let’s forget about all that and
pretend everything is cool.” 3. “Narc” – Are you done cheating on me yet,
bitch? 4. “Take You On A Cruise” – I’m not so bad. I’ll give you the world if
you let me. 5. “Slow Hands” – Hey! Look how fucked up I am without you! 6. “Not
Even Jail” – Hey! Look what kinds crazy shit I’d do to get you back! 7. “Public
Pervert” – I get it now. But how long will it take to get over you? 8. “C’mere”
– Not very long apparently. I have transformed my longing for you into lusting
for someone new. Commence MySpace stalking! 9. “Length Of Love” – Sorry new
sweetie. I know what I want and you’re not it. 10. “A Time To Be Small” – I don’t
know what I want anymore…
Honorable Mention: Sharks Keep Moving – s/t - I once cried for twenty minutes after listening to “Sailor.” Fuck Minus the Bear. This was Jake Snider’s best band. Yo La Tengo – Summer Sun – “Little Eyes” reminds me of my youngest daughter and I get homesick when I hear it. Sun Kil Moon – Tiny Cities – Say what you will about a record of Modest Mouse covers, Mark Kozelek’s version of “Ocean Breathes Salty” is one of the most heart-wrenching songs ever recorded. Now excuse me while I open a vein.
I just got this email, and I figured I'd post it here, because just like the New York Times story of the Pentagon insiders spreading military-industrial propaganda on the alphabet channels, all of this will be buried by the mainstream corporate media. As I've stated repeatedly on this blog, Media Reform is an issue of perhaps the greatest importance in our country, because without the free exercise of the First Amendment, all other issues suffer. You can't stand up to corporate oppression if corporations have you bound and gagged. Even today I was on the phone to Allard and Salazar, demanding action. And we'll be at the National Conference for Media Reform in June -- because it's time to take back our airwaves!
Just moments ago, by a near-unanimous vote, the Senate stood up to Big Media. They voted to throw out the FCC decision to let the largest media companies swallow up even more local media.
This is simply an astounding victory, and it would not have happened without the massive grassroots effort by you and thousands of others who called their senators, sent more than a quarter million letters, posted thousands of pictures and stories on StopBigMedia.com, and testified at public hearings held by the FCC.
It was your dedication that made today's Senate win possible.
Today was a huge step forward, but there is still much to do. The fight against the FCC now moves to the House, where our elected representatives need to hear from us.
President Bush has promised that he will try to veto this bill. But tonight the Senate and the American people have spoken with one voice. This historic vote sends a clear message that the only people who support more media consolidation are Big Media lobbyists and the White House.
We are in this struggle to bring more minority ownership, diverse perspectives and independent voices to the media. We need to make media consolidation an election-year issue. And we need to start talking about how to break up the giant conglomerates.
Corporate news today -- with its propaganda pundits, horse-race election coverage, and celebrity gossip -- undermines our democracy. We must continue to speak out and demand that the public airwaves be used to actually serve the public.
In just three weeks, thousands of people will be gathering together in Minnesota to build the movement for better media. You can join them at the National Conference for Media Reform, just visit www.freepress.net/conference.
For today, know that you played a key role in the fight for better media for all.
Thank you,
Josh Silver
Executive Director
Free Press Action Fund
I posted a two-or-so-minute segment of this a few months ago (which I can't seem to find in the blog archives) and had no idea it was part of a larger whole. For those of you who didn't see the first segment, this is a stop-motion graf animation project in Buenos Aires called, I think, Muto. This is absolutely incredible in its scope. Like, wow.
MUTO a wall-painted animation by BLU from blu on Vimeo.
Perhaps our South American correspondent, who is in Buenos Aires right this instant, could post some examples of graf art she's seen there? Hmmmm?
For those of you who have not yet seen this recently surfaced Bill O'Reilly video, you're in for a real treat! There's nothing funnier than watching a dude crap his pants over nothing.
I'm officially a fan of the newest Gillette commercial—and yes, that is probably the weirdest thing I've ever written. My reason for loving it is simply that it uses a rocking song, Cracker's "The World Is Mine." The song is basically about the fleeting nature of fame, and here you have the most famous athletes in the world, looking suave and removing hair from their faces. Is the commercial a commentary on the shelf life of celebrity? The futility of iconism? Or did they just use the song because it kicks ass and provides a nice backdrop for people kicking the Earth?
Yes, it's made the 'Nets rounds already, but gives me a deep belly laugh every time I see it: "Heh-heh. Giggle giggle." That's what I sound like.
This is an ad for Ringbo, a Korean robot that children can ride. Um. Yes.
And courtesy of Geekologie, here are the lyrics. Sing along!
We are down we're crazy fools
Every day at school
Teachers here, teachers there
Books and books they're everywhere!
Come on boys we need to dance
We have got a good chance
Lay your problems on the floor
Clap your hands and sing once more!
Everybody let's go to the game
We can dance there
Dance and eat ice cream!
Everybody dancing all night long
Try to do it
Sing a happy song!
Music dancing in the night
We can get so high
For no reason, no don't stop
Now's the time to take it to the top
It's a sweet and happy song
Sing all night long
Lay your problems on the floor
Clap your hands and sing once more
Everybody let's go to the game
We can dance there
Dance and eat an ice cream!
Everybody dancing all night long
Try to do it
Sing a happy song!
Time to dance it's time to sing
Sing a happy song (laugh)
A happy song!
Yo yo yo!
Let's go!
Let's go boys!
Come with me and sing!
(A happy song)
If I had a uterus, I would totally be saying that all the time. Those of you with them, however, should head over to Colorado Confidential and check out Wendy Norris' piece on the crazy new ballot initiative the fundotards are trying to push through. To wit:
Be it Enacted by the People of the State of Colorado: SECTION 1. Article II of the constitution of the state of Colorado is amended BY THE ADDITION OF A NEW SECTION to read:Section 31. Person defined. As used in sections 3, 6, and 25 of Article II of the state constitution, the terms "person" or "persons"
shall include any human being from the moment of fertilization.
As Norris notes, this is being presented as a states' rights issue, but it's quite possibly the most insidious thing the antichoice crowd could push through. And who knows if the issue, if brought to ballot, would ever pass, but you can bet that the singleminded focus of these fundo-crazies will ensure that there's a ton of money behind it.
It also raises some fun hypothetical issues. Like, say, miscarriage. Can a woman who miscarries be tried for manslaughter for failing to provide a nourishing environment for the full-fledged human being living within her? What about in vitro fertilization? This has the possibility of catalyzing a massive, massive clusterfuck of definition—which is just what the fundotards want.
But hey, as I've said before, I think their influence is waning, as the dogmatic indefatigability of the evangelicals becomes more diffuse. It's likely this won't pass. But what if it does?
From today's 'Zette:
More guman than guman?
Yeah, I know it's lame. But really, what else is there to talk about? Edwards showing great courage and incredible resolve by waiting until the entire race is over to endorse Obama? Cimarron bridge opening late? The assy, assy weather? I just don't know anymore.
Anyway, enjoy this scary but admitted hoax video of a ghost in an Indonesian hotel elevator. Woooo!
This is by Takara. She's 14 and super-retarded*. But I like her.
In case you have difficulty following the dramatic events, I'll provide a transcription:
First Official-looking Person: "CSI:CSI! I'm Grissom!"
Second Official-looking Person: "CSI:NY! I'm Mac!"
Third Official-looking Person: "CSI:MIAMI! I'm Horatio!"
Lion: "I'MA LION!"
Inquisitive Kid: "Who killed her?"
Freaked-out Kid: "DEAD PERSON!"
[Dead Girl says nothing. Bleeds out.]
* By retarded, I mean "gifted."
Just a reminder that Marina and I will be reading tomorrow night at Edifice Gallery as part of the the Third Thursday poetry night. I'm going to read a few poems from my latest, In the City of Word People, and the first chapter of my novel set in Colorado Springs ...
The event begins at 7:30 p.m. and usually goes until 10:30 or so. Hope to see you there.
I'm sure Clinton is immensely proud of her certain win in such an enlightened state.
"Undecided voter Wanda Gibson is less than excited about both Clinton and Obama, but she actually fears Obama, because he's black."
I recently and with great delight read Austin Grossman's novel Soon I Will Be Invincible, a fantastic read that follows both a supervillain and a newly-branded hero. I can't recommend it highly enough—it turns conventional superhero storytelling on its head and injects a great deal of wit and pathos into what can sometimes be a terribly two-dimensional world. (My favorite line, from the protagonist/villain of the book, Dr. Impossible: "You just keep going. You just keep trying to take over the world.")
Anyway, because I liked that so much, it follows that I'd enjoy QNTM.org's quite scientific take on how you could actually destroy the Earth. (What? You thought this post's threat was an idle one?). QNTM has an excellent, if speculative, take on destroying our planet, from antimatter:
You will need: An entire planet Earth made from antimatterAntimatter - the most explosive substance possible - can be manufactured in small quantities using any large particle accelerator, but this will take preposterous amounts of time to produce the required amounts. If you can create the appropriate machinery, it may be possible to find or scrape together an approximately Earth-sized chunk of rock and simply to "flip" it all through a fourth spacial dimension, turning it all to antimatter at once.
to tidal forces:
You will need: Earthmoving equipment.Method: When something (like a planet) orbits something else (like the Sun), the closer in it is, the faster it orbits. Mercury, the closest planet to the Sun, moves faster along its path than Earth, which in turn moves faster than Neptune, the furthest planet.
Now, if you move Earth close enough to the Sun, you'll find that it's close enough that the side of the Earth facing the Sun wants to orbit the Sun faster than the side pointing away from it. That causes a strain. Move Earth close enough, within an imaginary boundary called the Roche Limit, and the strain will be great enough to literally tear the planet Earth apart. It'll form one or more rings, much like the rings around Saturn (in fact this may be exactly where Saturn's rings came from). So our method? Move the Earth to within the Sun's Roche limit. Or, better, move it out, to Jupiter.
Helpful, no? I tell you, the Earth will soon tremble beneath my feet!
(via Blogtown PDX.)
Seriously. Fuck that. I'm going to kick the Earth's ass.
The only thing that can possibly cheer me up is Donnie Davies' "The Bible Says," which is a blast from the totally far-flung past of last year. (To get caught up on the Donnie Davies thing, check here.)
Ungh. That's the stuff. I was wondering what's become of Donnie/Joel Oglesby, but it looks like his 15 minutes (or 96 hours, as it were) of internet fame are completely over, although he did play SXSW last year. The Wikipedia entry on Davies is hopelessly incomplete and still considers the whole thing to be under contention as far as being a fraud—and there's no mention of Oglesby at all. I want a follow-up!
And just because I can, I'm reposting this:
Oh, and what the hell, this too:
And miracle of miracles, my post made it stop snowing!
As the 'Zette reported yesterday, a local woman named Vanessa Warren was on American Gladiators last night. Yesss! Finally, something to put us on the map! Although it is a shame that Warren, being a girl and all, did not get to face off against this guy:
AWOOOOOOOO!
Um. Ahem. So, did anybody watch it? How did Warren fare? I could go over to NBC and watch the whole episode, but my doctor recommended that I not look at too many muscles. Okay, so it wasn't my doctor, it was my Haggard-style gay rehabilitation coach. Awwwwooooooo!
Seriously, it could only get assier out if it started sleeting. Come on! It's May!
So here's my grandmama's recipe for борщ, or at least one that I found online and can pretend belong to my grandmama, who didn't speak Russian anyway.
8 cups beef broth
1 pound slice of meaty bone-in beef shank
1 large onion, peeled, quartered
4 large beets, peeled, chopped
4 carrots, peeled, chopped
1 large russet potato, peeled, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
2 cups thinly sliced cabbage
3/4 cup chopped fresh dill
3 Tbsp red wine vinegar
1 cup sour cream
Salt and pepper to taste
1. Bring 4 cups of the beef broth, the beef shank, and onion to boil in large pot. Reduce heat, cover, and simmer until meat is tender, about 1 hour 30 minutes.
2. Transfer meat to work surface; trim fat, sinew and bone and discard. Chop meat; cover and chill. Cool broth slightly. Chill in pot until cold, at least 4 hours and up to 1 day.
3. Spoon fat from top of chilled broth and discard. Add remaining 4 cups broth, beets, carrots, and potato; bring to boil. Reduce heat, cover, and simmer until vegetables are tender, about 30 minutes.
4. Stir in meat, cabbage and 1/2 cup dill; cook until cabbage is tender, about 15 minutes. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Stir in vinegar.
Ladle soup into bowls. Top with sour cream and remaining 1/4 cup dill.
Serves 6.
But those of you who totally lost the endless competition that is the internet by not already seeing it might enjoy reading THINGS YOUNGER THAN REPUBLICAN PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATE (OH, AND DID I FORGET TO MENTION “WAR HERO”?) JOHN MCCAIN. Some examples of things that are in fact younger than John McCain:
The AARP.
Mount Rushmore.
Superman.
Plutonium.
The ballpoint pen.
Alaska & Hawaii.
While KOAA was breaking the John Newsome scandal, KRDO shows us that their news can still be sensationalist and silly, when they investigated yesterday—and I am so not making this up—whether crossing the road is dangerous.
COLORADO SPRINGS - Crosswalks are supposed to be obvious, but many wonder if crosswalk signs are enough to warn drivers and pedestrians.In November, a Colorado College student was hit crossing a crosswalk near campus. Three months later, in March, a Palmer High School teacher was hit crossing in a downtown Colorado Springs crosswalk.
NEWSCHANNEL 13 wants to know why your safety is at risk when crossing the road.
"It's really scary trying to get across," one Colorado College student says.
We've definitely discussed this topic here before. But I'm so very glad that NEWSCHANNEL 13 is devoting their energies to an investigative report.
You know what? I'm going to conduct my own investigative report right now. Be right back.
The results: I just went out and crossed the road four times, from the southwest corner of Bijou and Tejon to the southeast corner, to the northeast corner, to the northwest and finally back to the southwest. I was not hit by a car once. This is probably because I did not rocket across the road on my longboard, but instead waited for the walk signs. While I waited, I sat in the sun and smoked a cigarette (yes, I'm smoking again). It was actually pretty nice. The niceness was compounded by the not getting hit by cars, which I was able to do by paying attention to my surroundings.
So, the verdict: Is crossing the road dangerous? Yes, very. Even though I was not hit by a car, it doesn't mean that you won't be. The important thing is that you're afraid of everything, all the time, and that you tune in to NEWSCHANNEL 13 every night for new things to be afraid of. Good night, and good luck.
It is gorgeous out right now, which makes me want to sit outside and drink one of two things: margaritas or sangria. And, since margaritas are for suckers, here's a recipe for sangria that I'm totally making up on the spot—off the top of my dome, ya'll!
The beauty of sangria is that it can pretty much be anything you want to be as long as it's reddish. So let's start with a bottle of cheap red wine. K? Then, let's add a shitload of chopped-up fruit—say, oranges, pears and, what the hell, some berries, like raspberries or strawberries. Were we making this later in the summer, we would most definitely use Palisade peaches, which technically makes our drink azurra, but what the eff, right? It's summer, and we won't be bound by your rules, Dad.
Anyway, you need some sweetener there, so let's add some orange juice. And since most sangrias should contain some sort of extra spirit, usually a liqueur, let's just toss in some peach schnapps, or if you're feeling wacky, some Chambord. Then let's throw everything in the fridge and let it mix for a while. Then, we pull it out and add some soda water, or if you really like the sweet, some 7-Up, pour over ice and serve, garnishing with extra fresh-cut fruit.
Then we sit on a patio and drink it and eventually get sunburned and meet some cute girl who comments on our sunburn and get a crush and eventually have a summer fling which, yes, ends badly, but those perfumed nights in June and July were, we have to admit, worth the pain they ultimately caused. And that's summer.
(Spoilers throughout, duh.)
Some points:
Enjoyed Roslin's fear about her diminishing mental faculties and Hot Evil Tori. My only wish would be that Annoying Emo Bang Callie is revealed as a Cylon so that Hot Evil Tori can kill her in every single episode. It could be a spinoff: Hot Evil Tori Dispatches Annoying Emo Bang Callie In Creative New Ways: The Series. Viewers could call in and vote! It'd be like the American Idol of killing Callie!
Loved, loved, loved the continuation of the Cylon civil war and the vindication that Starbuck was kinda-sorta right all along. See humans try to fly a Basestar! And you know, it occurred to me that Hybrids are essentially just River Tam in goo. And yes, that Six/Six scene was gratuitous fanboy heaven. Mmmmm. Bejeezus. But damn—that was some bloody stuff. And did anyone else think that the whole, "You are a harbinger of death, Kara Thrace" thing was redolent of this? (Warning: BAD fanvid there. Oh, and while you're at it, here is proof that someone out there is nerdier than me.)
However, I did disagree with making President Roslin into Corrado Soprano:
Personally, I can't wait until the Uncle Wilber Fountain opens. Warm weather goes hand in hand in my mind with the dulcet tuba tones creeping in my open office windows. No matter what your opinion of Wilber is as art, it's the most effective community-building tool we have downtown—and it doesn't hurt that Bob Tudor's soundtrack is catchy and gleeful and just plain fun. Here's the song that the fountain opens up with every morning, and if you look under Wilber, you can see my grinning face pressed against the windows of my office. (In a non-creepy way.)
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