Sturgeon’s Law, ironically (or appropriately, depending on how you look at it) was proposed by Theodore Sturgeon, a Sci-Fi writer, after years of defending the genre from critics. There are two corollaries (we’ll be primarily concerned with the better known second corollary):

1. Nothing is always absolutely so
2. Ninety percent of everything is crap

The problem Sci-Fi writers and fans have always had, the problem Sturgeon ignored, is this: If you’re going to play the game, you have to play by the rules. You can’t create your own rules, then complain when they don’t let you play.

If Sci-Fi is going to be literature, then like every other genre of literature, it must revolve around the characters and the plot.

I’m not knocking Sci-Fi. I’ve been a Sci-Fi geek for decades. But something has happened over the last twenty years that has made Sturgeon’s Law inapplicable, since far more than 90% of Sci-Fi these days is crap — and here, I’m referring primarily to filmed Sci-Fi, either television or movies.

Well, somethings have happened. The first was Gene Roddenberry (yes, I know, I’ve ranted about the Star Trek franchise before, but this is not a Roddenberry rant, and I’ll try to constrain myself, okay?)

It’s not about the tecnhology, stupid

This is one of the two ways in which Roddenberry degraded Sci-Fi. In the Roddenberry universe, there’s a gadget that does everything. In addition to phasers and breaking the speed of light, we have transporters, replicators, holodecks, time travel, you name it, there is no technological barrier some group on the franchise has not broken.

Phasers are fine, I suppose, although ray guns are just this side of silly, and in Sci-Fi, you pretty much have to have dispensed with Einstein. Holodecks, while extremely annoying because they encourage all kinds of idiotic plots, are, with a sufficient amount of computing power, feasible (well, provided that the dimensions of the created environment do not exceed those of the physical space, as they so often did in the franchise, you know, like when they went mountain climbing on the holodeck).

Transporters and replicators, however, well, don’t get me started. I said I wouldn’t rant, and I won’t. They violate the probability principle, discussed below. But back to the point.

The problem with having a neat techno-gizmo-gadget that does anything you want it to do is that the technology becomes a deus ex machina, as it did in the Roddenberry franchise shows. Scotty was always reconfiguring the dilithium crystals to solve whatever problem had arisen, and then there was the tricorder, which seemed to be sort of an all-purpose magical box.

A great Sci-Fi author, Arthur C. Clarke once said, “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic,” but he was referring to perception, not reality. Technology is always distinguishable from magic in one fundamental way: Technology is constrained by scientific laws, and magic is not. Roddenberry’s world did not have technology; it had magic devices presented as if they were technology. When they were constrained by laws, those laws were conveniently forgotten or changed at whim, as the writers needed, hence “reconfiguring the dilithium crystals,” or “sending a gravimetric burst” or pick your favorite example of magic-as-technology every other episode.

It is a necessary precondition of Sci-Fi that the author must create a world constrained by laws. The author (or writer) with artistic integrity creates his world and consistently subjects everyone and everything in it to those laws. The hack writer creates his world, then dispenses with or changes the laws whenever it suits him. Roddenberry and his writers were, by that criterion, hacks. That they used (mostly, but not entirely) actual scientific concepts which they then perverted at will in order to get characters out of situations makes the Star Trek franchise bad Sci-Fi.

It’s probability, not possibility

Sci-Fi authors are far too imaginative, or perhaps imaginative in inappropriate ways. Because we must suspend disbelief to read (or watch) and enjoy Sci-Fi, the world and the scientific laws which govern it may be improbable. The events and the plot, however, cannot cross the improbability line, lest they become absurd.

Yesterday, I saw a particularly ridiculous episode of Voyager in which they transported “photonic matter” onto the ship from a star. The “photonic matter” (except that it had suddenly become “photonic energy,” but why would anyone in Sci-Fi worry about the distinction between matter and energy?) had somehow leaked into the holodeck system, where one of the characters was running a Beowulf program. The “photonic whatever” (matter? energy? do the writers know there is a difference?) turned out to be a (wait for it) “photonic lifeform” and became Grendel in the holodeck program.

Where do I start with this drivel — and it is drivel, from beginning to end. And what was I talking about, since I am mentally ranting, even though I’m not ranting here . . . oh yes.

Yes, it’s possible that “photonic matter” could have 1) developed into some kind of living being, and 2) evolved intelligence, but then, it’s also possible that those grains of salt in your shaker are actually nanodevices the Illuminati use to track your every movement for some nefarious purpose. Nearly anything is possible.

The operating principle is not possibility, but probability. So while a “photonic lifeform” is technically possible, it’s immeasurably improbable. It is so improbable that it’s ridiculous. But let’s forget that, and say it’s likely that “photonic matter” would be alive and intelligent.

Is it possible that this “photonic lifeform” would morph into Grendel on the holodeck? Well sure, but it’s possible that we’re being controlled by reptilian aliens masquerading as human beings. It may be possible, but it’s not very probable, is it? No? So why did these writers produce this nonsense? (Answer: Because they’re hacks.)

Put a moratorium on clichés

I said above that Sci-Fi authors are imaginative in the wrong ways, and here’s why. Sci-Fi is plagued by tired themes that have been beaten to death over the last fifty years and need to be retired for at least the next hundred. “There are things man was not meant to know/do!” is one that’s been with us since the beginning of the genre, and is so old and dead that it needs to be discarded. Yet authors seem incapable of coming up with anything but these dead, tired, whipped to death themes. They just dress them up in new ways, and that’s not imaginative, at least not in the right way.

However, there are two of these themes that almost ensure bad Sci-Fi: Utopianism, and it’s antithesis, dystopianism.

Like any other theme, these were both interesting when they first appeared. But by the time Ryker was spouting such idiotic lines as, “We no longer enslave animals for food production” on television, utopianism had become a parody of itself (hence, the idiocy of the line). Mad Max was cool, but by the time we got Waterworld, dystopianism had become farcical.

Of all the dead clichés in Sci-Fi, these two annoy me more than any others, because they’re both so inherently ludicrous, because they almost always overwhelm the story, and because they nearly always lead the writer into abject stupidity. Neither is original, and neither is interesting. Both need to go. Permanently.

Fantasy is not Sci-Fi

Back in the 60s and 70s, there was a war going on between the hard-core Sci-Fi folks and the squishy, not-very-scientific speculative fiction folks. I fall firmly into the former camp, although I did think at the time that some of my fellows were anal to the point of being silly.

That war no longer rages as it did then, and the speculative fiction folks seem to have won. So at Barnes and Noble, Sci-Fi and Fantasy are shelved together, and the Sci-Fi Channel is more likely to be airing a werewolf movie than a space flick. And crucially, nobody seems to notice.

This is important because I believe that the victory of the squishy, not-very-interested-in-science speculative fiction folks is the reason that shows revolving around magic, such as the Roddenberry franchise, are presented as if they were Sci-Fi. I also believe this victory is the reason that possibility rules, and nobody much cares about probability.

Understand that I’m not knocking Fantasy. But it isn’t Sci-Fi. Magic isn’t science, even when it’s presented as if it were.

Plenty of highly educated science geeks love speculative fiction, and don’t much care that it is presented as if it were Sci-Fi, but they are not the general populace. Back in the 60s when the hardcore Sci-Fi v. squishy not-so-sci speculative fiction war was at its hottest, we lived in a heavily science-oriented society.

That’s no longer true. We now live in a society in which science is under siege from all sides, and people now believe in “alternative medicine,” crystals, auras, chakras, chi-energy, aromatherapy, feng shui, accupuncture, “organic food” and “body toxins,” oh, the list never ends. The fundamental irony is that all of these forms of magic, just like the Star Trek franchise, use para-scientific babble to legitimize their magic.

The language of science, then, is still highly valued, but science itself, not so much.

And these are not correspondent in some way to religion. Magic has supplanted science to a large degree precisely because in order for the magic to be legitimate, it must somehow be presented as if it were science.

I’m not implying causation here. Whether there is any, I cannot say. But “magic-as-science” predominates both in our society and Sci-Fi.

But waving crystals to heal somebody is magic, not science, just as the Roddenberry franchise is Fantasy, not Sci-Fi.

Good Sci-Fi

Both Battlestar Galactica and Blade Runner are not only good, but great Sci-Fi, for mostly the same reasons.

Neither falls prey to the traps that the Star Trek franchise exemplifies. In BSG, there are only two identifiable areas in which the world is more technologically advanced than we are: Space travel (like I said, you pretty much have to dispense with relativity to have Sci-Fi) and artificial intelligence (the people created the cylons, recall). There are no ray guns — the weapons shoot bullets. There are no transporters or replicators or holodecks. The technology in BSG is so minimal that it cannot detract from the characters and the story.

Few, if any, of the events in the plot cross the probability line. There is a spiritual streak in the show, undeniably (the show is supposed to be heavily Mormon influenced, much as The Magic Flute is Masonic, although I don’t know enough about the LDS to comment on that), so we have Six, Boomer, and Roslin sharing the same dream, for example, but — and here is the crucial point — it isn’t portrayed as if it were science. The dream is a dream, and nobody knows why or how they’re all sharing it. It isn’t “reconfiguring the dilithium crystals,” because it isn’t presented as if it were science.

The same is true of Blade Runner. We get hints of lots and lots of advanced technology, particularly in the scenery, but very little of it is part of the story. It never intrudes, much less takes over, as it does in every episode of the Roddenberry franchise. None of the events is so improbable that it cannot be believed.

Most importantly, both BSG and Blade Runner are about the characters and the story, and never contradict their own laws. Never is magic presented as if it were science, and in both, science really has very little to do with the story. And that’s because good Sci-Fi, like any other genre of literature, is about the characters and the story.

If we’re talking about literary Sci-Fi, books or short stories and not movies or television, then great Sci-Fi authors abound. Isaac Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, Robert Heinlein, Orson Scott Card, Larry Niven, Jerry Pournelle, the list goes on and on. And so do great novels, at least one of which was written by a one-hit wonder (Dune). In fact, my favorite Sci-Fi novel, er, novels, er, series isn’t, as you might imagine, prototypical hardcore Sci-Fi. The science is minimal, but it follows all of the rules (or I would find it incredibly annoying). I refer to the Book of the New Sun, by Gene Wolfe. The Foundation Trilogy, I, Robot, Ender’s Game, Stranger in a Strange Land, Childhood’s End, Cities in Flight, again, the list goes on and on.

The problem with Sci-Fi on film is, I think, that writers are far too tempted to substitute gizmoness and special effects for substance, which is an even larger problem than in novels, because of the time limits involved — see I, Robot, the recent movie, as an example, and I Am Legend as an all too rare counterexample. Here, again, BSG excels, as the writers pack the maximum amount of substance into each episode, with only a few exceptions. Then, there are the Sci-Fi novels that are so complex that they cannot be successfully filmed — and speaking of, I read the other day that they’re going to film Dune again, a project that’s doomed before it begins — but that’s another topic for another day.

We need more shows and movies that revolve around the characters and plot, with less technowizardry and fewer special effects. I’m not holding my breath waiting for either.

As an addendum, unlike all of the Star Trek geeks, I rather liked Enterprise, precisely because they didn’t have a magic gadget for everything, and weren’t able to use gadgets as deus ex machina devices. I thought Enterprise jumped the shark when the writers introduced the time travel nonsense, pulling the show back down into the same, tired, not-very-sci Sci-Fi camp as the other shows.

If you watch BSG, you’ll get it; it you don’t, well, you won’t. Created at LogoBama!

It picks up where last season left off: Four of the final five Cylons revealed (to themselves and us, but nobody else), and the re-appearance of Starbuck. The show revolves around Starbuck: Where she was, where she’s been, why she’s suddenly alive, why she’s been gone for two months but she thinks only a few hours (and the clock on her fighter bears her out), whether she’s a Cylon (she passed the test), and whether to pay attention to her claim that she found Earth.

Oh, and these nuts who think Baltar is some kind of Holy Messenger. They must be Obamamaniacs. Think about it: There are more than a few parallels between Gaius Baltar and Barak Obama.

It ends on a cliff-hanger (quite an effective one, too).

The question of the season is who is the final Cylon. Starbuck is too obvious (and there is another reason, which I won’t go into because it comes out in the premiere). So is Baltar. The final Cylon has to be a major character, or the revelation will be anti-climatic, but until we get a better idea of how the humans and Cylons are intertwined, I don’t think we can make an intelligent guess about the identity of the final. But we can rule out who it cannot be.

It can’t be Helo, or there would be no Helo-Boomer baby (remember, the baby is the first human-Cylon cross, and since Boomer is a Cylon, Helo must not be). It can’t really be Adama, unless his kids aren’t his kids (back to that Cylon reproduction problem). But it could be just about anybody else.

If he hadn’t been revealed as a Cylon at the end of last season, I’d bet on Tigh. Oh well.

Twelve Cylon models
Seven are known
Four live in secret
One will be revealed

So what happened to “And they have a plan”?

We’re back, and as soon as I put the pork roast in the oven, ready to watch BSG. We can see The Ruins tomorrow.

Oh. I wonder if the DNS is still down. Checking . . . yup, looks like it.

BSG season three is now all burned to DVDs, and deleted from the hard drive. Lost is next–23 hours in 22 episodes–though I’m not going to start that until after Memorial Day. It’s possible that I’ll find at least the first half of the season less annoying now that I know that the Survivors do, in fact, start fighting back.

For dinner, I’m thinking Thai, maybe a green chicken curry, with lots of fire and shredded fresh basil all over the top. And coconut ice cream for dessert, of course.

The hard drive is so close to full–and has been for about a month–that every time I tell it to record something, it tells me three or four other things will be deleted early. I have been hurriedly watching a couple of things then deleting them to make room, but now that the season is over, I’ve started cleaning up the hard drive.

I’m burning the second half of this season of BSG to DVDs now. “Rapture,” “Taking a Break from all your Worries,” and “The Woman King” have been burned to one DVD. I’m currently burning “A Day in the Life” to the second. I’ll end up with three DVDs, for a grand total of six for the entire season. (VHS? Who records VHS tapes these days?)

When I’ve finished with BSG (tomorrow sometime, probably), Lost is next. That will take twice as long, since I have the whole season on the hard drive, and didn’t burn the first half to DVDs. It will also be somewhat painful, since the first half of the season sucked so bad.

I thought this was about Battlestar Galactica. After all, the title is “I Can’t Wait Until 2008″ and it links to a video.

Thanks a lot, Hugh. I’ll be in therapy for at least ten years after that.

Spoilers. If you haven’t seen it yet, don’t click the more tag!

I saw a posting on last night’s BSG that made me jump out of the chair. I’m watching it now (and I’ll link to that post I read after I’ve seen it).

Anybody who hates Baltar will love this episode.

They outdid themselves this week. This is easily one of the best yet.

I know I’ve said this before, but I’m going to say it again: Battlestar Galactica is not an allegory, and those who want to view it that way are going to be disappointed (well, have been by the New Caprica episodes), and are cheating themselves by seeing a complex drama through black-and-white glasses.

It’s the complexity and the utter lack of space opera-ness that makes BSG quality television — quality sci-fi, as far as that goes. BSG has matured, starting out more clearcut, but becoming richer and more multi-layered over time.

It’s also the complexity of the characters — including the Cylons, whose collectivism has been slowly eroding over the last season. First, we saw it with Number Eight (Boomer) and Number Six in Downloaded, when they murdered Number Three (D’Anna) to save Sam Anders, a human. We saw dissent increase during the Cylon occupation of New Caprica. Then, Number Three (D’Anna), who had been one of the collectivist Cylons, began to change as she started dreaming — first about Hera, now about the as yet unrevealed Cylon models. Number Three has developed a clear sense of destiny which the other Cylons don’t share, and in this week’s episode, makes it clear that she will do anything to fulfil that destiny.

Facing Galactica’s nuclear warheads, the Cylons decided to withdraw from the planet, but Number Three openly rebelled against the Cylon collective. In the Eye of Jupiter shrine, she shot Cavil (in self-defense).

It’s not surprising that when Number Three resurrected, Cavil discontinued the model — indefinitely, he said. Let’s hope this doesn’t mean they’re writing Lucy Lawless off the show.

But the increasing humanity of the Cylons was also counterbalanced this week. Just before the hiatus, Helo and Sharon found out that Hera was alive and on the Cylon ship — this after the trust between Adama and Sharon had been reestablished and Adama had reinstated her as an officer. Helo killed Sharon so she would download and be able to see her daughter, but she seems (unsurprisingly) to have turned against Adama and humanity — after initiating the movement to reconcile with humanity in Downloaded. It’s unclear, however, where her disgust will take her: This week, she stated that humans and Cylons should go their separate ways, but she could just as easily revert, particularly since she threatened to kill Hera, her daughter.

The Anders-Apollo standoff was settled by Apollo sending Dee to save Starbuck (and another Number Three returned to Galactica with Hera to reunite with Helo — though he doesn’t know it’s another Sharon). Apollo frakked up, looking first at Starbuck in front of Dee, who did not look very happy when he remembered her and ran up to hug her.

There was more Frank Herbert this week. Number Three saw a white, shimmering figure she recognized as one of the unrevealed models (”It’s you!”) in the shrine and when she touched it, died (of course, we didn’t see who the figure was, but I’m betting on Starbuck — read on). Starbuck seems to have painted the Eye of Jupiter symbol years before, and when Helo pointed it out, stated that she had a destiny. (Will Starbuck be the character to find Earth? Was Number Three the character that died?)

And Helo captured Baltar, who is now back on Galactica. Number Six told Baltar that Number Three wasn’t the chosen one, he was — and Baltar said that he knew. And I still think Baltar will be revealed as a Cylon, but I could be wrong.

Excellent episode — except that I’ll be extremely unhappy if Lucy Lawless is off the show. She’s one of the best characters on BSG. But it was one hell of an episode, without a doubt.

I just saw a teaser for the second half of this season of BSG. I’ll quote: “One dies, one is a cylon, and one finds Earth.”

I’m a bit busy with company to make guesses. After Christmas.

Starbuck kills the Cylon, then sits down, takes a bite of her dinner, and delicately wipes her mouth with blood all over her hand (and yes, it’s violent).

This season’s most powerful BSG scenes so far. Okay, okay, we have to start with the cliffhanger from last season:

Now, to season three:

Occupation. When Starbuck stabs the Cylon Conoy, then calmly sits down, takes a bite of her dinner, and with her right hand covered with blood, delicately wipes her mouth with her napkin. That may be the best BSG scene ever.

Precipice. Starbuck, feeling responsible for the injury of the child she believes to be her and Conoy’s daughter, reaches out and takes Conoy’s hand. Creepy powerful.

Exodus 2. Saul Tigh executes his wife for treason.

Exodus 2. Death of the Pegasus.

Exodus 2. Starbuck says, “I love you,” kisses Conoy, and stabs him.

Collaborators. The Starbuck-Anders breakup scene.

Hero. Number Three orders her own execution.

Hero. Tigh’s speech to Bulldog after he stops Bulldog from killing Admiral Adama.

Hero. President Roslin telling Adama why he must accept the medal.

Unfinished Business. “I’ve missed you.”

Passage. Kat realizing she’s dying of radiation poisoning, then taking Helo’s radiation detector to replace her own depleted one.

Passage. The finale, from Starbuck at Kat’s bed in the infirmary to the end.

Well, the TiVO hard drive, anyway. I’m burning all of this season’s episodes (so far) to DVD, so I can clear up the hard drive. All of the episodes from all three seasons are online here, by the way.

For those of you who’ve missed out, the series so far (five clips, 44 minutes total):

Wow. Just frakkin wow.

From Battlestar Wiki, the Colonists:

Commander Adama:

President Roslin:

Lee Adama:

Starbuck (Kara Thrace):

The Cylons are different in the new series from the old. In the original cheesefest, the Cylons were machine warriors created by a dying race of reptilian aliens. In the new series, the Cylons were created by the humans as robots. The Cylons rebelled, and during the armistice, the Cylons developed human forms. There are twelve human models. So far, only seven have been identified (so there is always the “I wonder if so-and-so is a Cylon agent” question). They still have centurions (toasters):

Centurion:

Number Three:

Number Six:

Number Eight:

NYC Educator commented here:

I don’t know if you get Showtime of not, but you might want to check out Sleeper Cell. The first series was very good.

Indeed it was. I burned it to DVD. I had noticed that Our Pal Mr. TiVO was recording Sleeper Cell episodes from last season. For some reason, it hadn’t occurred to me that they were getting ready to show a second season.

Thanks to the comment, I found out that that’s exactly what they’re doing — and the second season starts this week. Yee-haw!

And if you missed the first season of Sleeper Cell and if you have Showtime, you’ll want to watch the second season. First episode is tomorrow night. Post-9/11 television.

I’m afraid it isn’t set in outer space, though.

BSG is what good Sci-Fi should be. The technology — and the fact that it is set in the future — is almost incidental to the plot and character development. Even people who dislike Sci-Fi would get hooked on Battlestar Galactica.

It really is the best show on television — by far.

Entertainment Weekly:

Are you watching Sci Fi’s Battlestar Galactica?

Sure you are. But I wasn’t.

That is, not until last June, when I found myself confronted by a group of enlightened EW colleagues one afternoon while I was trying to write a nutty Lost theory about Desmond, Charles Dickens, and some pseudo-scientific business I found during my frequent trolls of Wikipedia. Anyway, these friends — these dear and precious friends — conducted what amounted to a geek intervention. They said: ”You claim to be this sci-fi/fantasy/comic book fanboy — but are you watching Battlestar Galactica, the best frakkin’ show on television?”

At the time, I had no reference for the show besides its famously cheesalicious late seventies incarnation, starring that old guy from Bonanza, that funny guy from The A-Team, and all those chrome-plated robots with their ping-ponging crimson eyes and Atari-era videogame voices (”BY. YOUR. COMMAND.”) And so I said: ”Frakkin’? What the fudge are you talking about?”

That was all they needed to hear. I was immediately put in a car and whisked away to a remote location with nothing else but a jug of milk, a box of Cocoa Pebbles, and DVDs of every episode of Battlestar Galactica. When the weekend was over, I felt like Paul on the road to Damascus, but without the icky scales falling from eyes. I had been born again. Frakkin’ good news, indeed!

Yup, that’s a lot like what happened to me. I was very resistant to watching it. First, I remember the cheesy original, and sorry, it was garbage (I’d rather watch re-runs of Buck Rogers in the 25th Century than the original BSG). Second, it was a Sci-Fi Channel show (speaking of cheesy and garbage). So only after seeing rave after rave after rave on the blogosphere did I break down and start watching it.

Course, that was in the middle of last season, and I was kind of lost at first. But I went out and bought the first season DVDs, watched them (though without the Cocoa Pebbles), and am hooked. It’s hand down the best show on television. No competition.

First, a couple of important announcements. Michael Trucco, who plays Sam Anders, has just signed on as a regular cast member (this will be important when I get to this week’s episode). Also, as you know if you’ve watched any other Sci-Fi Channel series, the Sci-Fi Channel as always broken their seasons into two parts, with a hiatus in the middle. When BSG returns from the hiatus in January, it will move to Sunday nights. Now, on to the episode.

After a couple of comparatively lame episodes, Battlestar Galactica is back on track. This week’s episode, “Unfinished Business,” opened on a boxing match on the ship (by the way, the boxing was fairly realistic, so if you have small children, you should take that into account) between Helo and Lee. It’s explained that the boxing matches are fairly regular events, and allow everybody to work off steam. Helo slams Lee, and Lee has a flashback — and that sets up the format for the episode.

The point isn’t the boxing match. The point is the story told in the flashbacks, which take place 17 months previously on New Caprica, 8 months before the Cylon occupation.

After Starbuck blows off Anders, she goes to the match and challenges Lee — who just had his butt kicked by Helo. He refuses, and she insults Dee by asking how she likes taking sloppy seconds, and Lee punches her, then accepts the challenge.

Adama then comes to the match and is talking with Roslin. We then flash back to the Chief asking Adama for permission to leave the ship for New Caprica so they can raise their son on the planet. Adama refuses.

Adama suddenly gets into the ring and calls the Chief out. During the fight, we find out through flashbacks that the crew of Battlestar Galactica was on New Caprica for some sort of festival — and what was it with the Irish jigs? — and it seemed to imply that Adama and Roslin were being more than just pals, if you catch my drift. After the, ahem, postcoital scene (it may not have been that, since they did have their clothes on, but that’s what it looked like) Adama changes his mind, and tells the Chief and Cally that they may move to New Caprica.

After Tyrol wins the fight, Adama struggles to his feet and tells everybody that he made a mistake and let himself get too close to the crew. He says that because he was too lax, they were unprepared when the Cylon fleet arrived at New Caprica, and that it would not happen again. Adama then leaves the ring, and Tigh declares the fights over.

Starbuck won’t let Lee get away without fighting her, so they get in the ring. During flashbacks, we find that they had bumped nasties, and both proclaimed that they loved each other — and that Starbuck had agreed to tell Anders. When Lee appears the next morning at the camp, Adama tells him that Starbuck had gotten up, found a priest, and married Anders.

Lee promptly finds Dee and kisses her. So it seems that Starbuck was right, and Dee was a rebound.

In the ring, Starbuck and Lee are beating each other up pretty good, and they collapse into each other’s arms as Anders and Dee look on. Anders is not a happy camper and leaves, and Dee looks stricken as Starbuck says, “I missed you,” into Lee’s ear, and he says, “I missed you, too.” End of episode.

The sexual tension between Starbuck and Lee has been there since the first season. More than just sexual tension, actually. It’s been pretty obvious that the two have it pretty bad for each other. The events the night before Starbuck married Anders, and the fact that she did run off and marry Anders, demonstrates (again) that Starbuck has serious relationship issues. I doubt that we’ll see Starbuck and Lee living “happily ever after.” But the episode sets up tension between Starback and Lee and Anders and Dee.

Good episode. No thinly-disguised politics. Back to the characters.

Thumbs up.

First, Lost. Bad episode. First, it’s completely — unbelievably — out of character for Jack to have refused to operate on Ben. I don’t care how pissed he is. It’s unbelievable. Second, maybe I’m dense, but why does whatshisname want to kill Sawyer? Sawyer had nothing to do with his wife’s death. What’s the motivation there? Worse, it makes little sense in light of the writers’ seemingly trying to force some “moral relativism” on us and get us to like the Others.

And why is it going off the air until February, ferchrissakes? February?

Now, BSG. This was perhaps the stupidest episode ever. I’ll side with everybody else on that. I’ll even agree that it was a clumsy, ham-handed attempt to get us to wring our hands about genocide — clumsy and ham-handed like Quincy MD, if you remember that show (that’s what TV was like when I was an undergrad, and I thought we’d gotten past being beaten over the head with the “issue of the week.”) Except for the quality, the episode was right out of the 70s.

Hey, maybe that’s it. The Democrats are stuck in the 70s and bring back McGovern to advise them on the war (don’t everbody laugh at the same time — it’s not nice). BSG gives us 70s TV, complete with the “issue of the week.” Let’s hope we’re not seeing a trend here — why do you think everybody was getting high at the time?

I won’t side with everybody else about Helo. Unlike Jack, Helo was perfectly understandable and in character, whether you approve of his betrayal or not. Ferchrissakes, he’s married to a Cylon. Why would you expect him to do anything but what he did? Sure, Tigh executed Ellen (his wife), but that showed an unusual strength of character, especially for the most flawed character on the show. It’s unrealistic to expect that same strength of character of every character on the show. I didn’t like what he did, but I wasn’t offended or surprised that he did it.

And is it just that I lived through the Cold War that I’m apparently the only person who wondered why they didn’t use the disease as a “nuclear deterrent”? It didn’t occur to the writers. But think about it: They could have held the disease over the Cylons’ heads and staved them off, while simultaneously solving the genocide question. That’s what Ronald Reagan would have done (and that possibly explains why the writers didn’t think of it).

No Starbuck? Hello?

About the only thing I did like about this episode was that we got another example of Adama and Roslin, one (Adama in this episode) playing the conscience of the king to the other. I’m not sure why, but I find their relationship fascinating.

And what did I say last week about the Hybrid? Frank Herbert. I was right: This episode we got a Gom Jabbar. It won’t be long before we get a Mother Superior and the BSG equivalent of the “weirding way.”

Of the two, it’s hard to say which was worse. I think I’ll stay agnostic on that one.

Battlestarwiki is up and running again.

And like Lost, it got neglected last week. But that’s fine, since the penultimate episode (BSG) wasn’t extremely blogworthy. The last episode was, well, more blogworthy. (By the way, Battlestarwiki is still changing servers so it’s down, but if you’re new to BSG, scifi.com has just the page for you, here.)

“Collaborators” (the week before last) was the first episode after Adama and crew rescued the people on New Caprica from the Cylons. Tigh, Tyrol, Anders and several other characters from the New Caprica resistance formed a secret society to try and execute collaborators, with the support of Zarek. They executed Jammer.

Zarek — a convicted terrorist — is now the President, since he was Baltar’s VP. He has no support from the military because of his terrorist activities, so he makes a deal with Roslin: He’ll step down and let her take over as President if she makes him her VP and gives him a voice in the government. Roslin, meanwhile, has no idea the secret trials and executions are happening, and has no idea that Zarek is the architect.

The tribunal self-destructs when they almost execute Gaeta — but find out just in time that he was their source of information in Baltar’s government. Meanwhile, Baltar is with the Cylons, and there is a debate (we don’t know how serious) about whether to kill him, or let him live.

This last episode, “Torn,” is IMNSHO a more interesting episode. The Cylons want Baltar to help them find Earth, because they have decided it’s to be their new home (we have no idea why). Baltar has done some research, and points them toward a constellation with a double quasar. They send a ship, and suddenly, all the Cylons on the ship — skins and toasters — are dying, and they have no idea why.

Baltar is trying to save his life, and at the prompting of his “inner Six,” offers to go, since he won’t be infected. When he gets there, he finds a man-made object on board, and deduces that they had picked it up, and it contained some kind of bug that is killing the Cylons.

What’s inexplicable is that upon returning, he lied and said he saw nothing unusual. Baltar knew the Cylons were recording everything he saw, and surely he knew he’d get caught in the lie. And Six reviewed the recordings and caught him lying. He seems smarter than that.

We also saw Six explaining the Cylon power of projection to Baltar, that they could “see” whatever they wanted to see. I found that segment interesting because apparently Baltar has the same power of projection — what was that I said about Baltar possibly being a Cylon, eh? And when he pressed Six about the remaining skins who hadn’t been revealed, she sharply said they could not talk about that.

BSG took a new twist with the introduction of the Hybrid, kind of a spiritual skin mainframe for the Cylons. It was rather Frank Herbert, though she did look a little Matrix-like in that bathtub-y thing with all those cables running off her into the goo. Jonah Goldberg found the Hybrid a bit too cliché. I’m agnostic so far. It could give the Cylons a whole new dimension, and really be Herbertesque, or it could not. I’ll reserve judgment.

All in all, an interesting episode that unfolds several issues that will become crucial.

First, the spoilers.

Watching last night’s BSG episode now. Back later.

Spoilers. If you haven’t seen it, move right along …




I’m seeing a lot of howling about the season premiere of BSG, and all the howlers are drinking kool-aid. Granted, it’s kool-aid (I suspect) they’ve been trained to drink by English teachers, but it’s kool-aid just the same.

Maybe it’s because I went to high school way back in the Dark Ages, before calculators, when we who were headed for college took two years of Latin and learned to use slide rules, way back when The Tempest was just The Tempest, and not some secret allegory about Masons (or whatever), you know, back before lit people had so run out of anything even vaguely interesting to say that they had to come up with nonsense like deconstructionism and postmodernism.

BSG is BSG. That’s it. Humans are humans. Cylons are Cylons. Period.

Look, folks, you can’t turn something into an allegory just because you want it to be an allegory. I know, your English teachers taught you all this folderol about how you “created meaning in your head,” but sorry, that’s crap, and it always has been. Hamlet is the Prince of Denmark, no matter how much you want to see him as Crazy Horse.

And BSG is BSG. Period.

Certainly, BSG takes a lot of ideas out of current events — as well as not so current events. But folks, taking ideas from current events and using them in a plot does not an allegory make.

BSG has never been an allegory for Iraq, the GWOT, or anything else, not in the first season, and not in the second season. Some of you turned it into one in your heads — misinterpreting the show — and now, you’re stomping your feel and whining.

But tell me, kool-aid drinkers, how is it obvious to you that the premiere was an allegory for Iraq, as opposed to, say, Vichy France, or even the early Revolutionary War? What, exactly, makes you think the writers are portraying Iraq — again, as opposed to some other occupation? And if your allegory is consistent — which it is not — how can you suddenly flip humans and Cylons so that now the Cylons supposedly represent the United States? If that’s the case, then why didn’t the Cylons represent the United States last season or the season before?

We have the Cylons torturing and executing humans. We have human suicide bombers. So? Tell me, conservatives who are drinking this kool-aid, if Cylons landed and occupied the United States, would you not consider suicide bombing as an option, if you were as powerless as are the humans on New Caprica?

Sorry, this doesn’t translate into an allegory, or some kind of license for Jihadists. BSG is not an analogy. Humans are humans. Cylons are Cylons. If you want to turn Cylons into Jihadists, I can’t stop you, but you’re ruining the show for yourselves. Cylons are Cylons. A cigar is a cigar.

I swear, you kool-aid drinkers sound like liberals, seeing plots behind every tree. You’re getting perilously close to the “Vince Foster was murdered!” sanity line.

I would contradict Ronald D. Moore and say that BSG is, essentially, a conservative show. Not only, or even primarily, because it is thankfully devoid of any socialist utopianism (what the Trekkies call “the vision”), and not only, or even primarily, because it does not automatically portray the military as evil and power-mad, but because every character on the show is flawed. Every character has a dark side. We see human nature both at its best and its worst, and the characters make choices based on their knowledge of right and wrong.

This is a fundamentally conservative view of humanity.

We don’t have essentially good characters being twisted by evil, external forces. That would make it an essentially liberal show (like, for example, Stargate: Atlantis). There is nothing morally relative about discussing, or arguing about, morals, as you kool-aid drinkers have insisted; moral relativism is when after the discussion (or argument) the characters make no moral choice between the two options, because they decide the options are morally equivalent (that’s why it’s also called moral equivalence). Nor is presenting two sides of a moral argument moral relativism.

The human characters (well, with the exception of Baltar, who I maintain must be a Cylon) all have displayed an intense moral code, even Tigh, who is one of the most flawed human characters on the show. The fact that some of the issues with which they grapple are complex does not make them, or the show, morally relative; in the end, the characters make choices based on their moral code.

That’s an essentially conservative way of seeing human beings. There’s nothing liberal or morally equivalent about it.

What’s interesting — to me, at any rate — is that beginning with “Downloaded,” we started seeing Cylons developing a moral code. We saw it in the conflict between the Cylons about how to deal with the humans on New Caprica during the premiere. We will continue to see it develop in the future.

Sorry, but that isn’t “sympathizing with Jihadists,” or whatever you want to call it. Cylons are starting to become more human, and more moral. What moral code will they eventually develop? How will it fit or conflict with human morals? How will the two interact, once the Cylons as a group have developed morality?

These are the kinds of things that make BSG one of the best shows on television — and one of the most conservative.

So guys, stop drinking the “Iraq allegory” kool-aid. BSG is BSG. Period.




Welcome, NRO readers! While you’re here, feel free to cruise around. Here’s my post on the latest Battleground Poll, and my post on last year’s Battleground Poll, and why the “moderate majority” is a myth. Here are my reflections on my trip to the Flight 93 Memorial. If moonbats on university campuses are your thing (I have to put up with a lot of those), here is the most important issue about the recent Columbia incident. And if you’re interested in the state of education today, here are my education articles.

Enjoy your stay!

Spoiler alert!

I just started watching the BSG season premiere (I’m about twenty minutes into it). It just astounds me that the Sci-Fi Channel, which otherwise produces the most indescribably hideous excuses for movies and television, can come up with something so beautifully filmed, beautifully edited, and beautifully written.

If you don’t watch BSG, you’re missing one of the best shows that’s ever been on television. Do yourself a favor: Go pick up the Season 1 and 2 DVDs, watch them, then start watching the series.

And that scene with Starbuck — especially when she picks the knife back up, sits down, and eats — Starbuck kicks ass.

Coming from the generation when Hollywood ruled and television for the most part sucked, it’s been hard to adjust to the reversal, but it’s happened, and it’s easily documentable.

Hollywood has become the PBS of the entertainment industry, and television is far, far better — provided that you stay far, far away from the Sci-Fi Channel, easily the trashiest excuse for programming on television today (even worse than Lifetime).

Look at the dreck that has come out of Hollywood in the last ten years. Juvenile fart comedies (Adam Sandler). Paranoid nutjob conspiracy movies (Syriana). Junk masquerading as art (M. Night’s movies, except for the first). Pointless — and usually very bad — remakes (did you know they’ve remade Wickerman?) Sure, there have been some really great movies. But they’ve been few, and I’m sorry to say, far between.

There’s a lot of trash on television too — we have DirecTV and get around 200 stations, and still, there are times when there’s nothing worth watching on — but the best writing, and the best entertainment, is to be found not in a movie, but on television.

If you don’t watch television, you’re nuts — and oblivious, because there’s lots of really excellent programming.

I’ll admit that I’m prejudiced against network TV. That prejudice has been costly over the years; I have not watched a show only because it was on network TV, and I therefore assumed it was going to be junk. The latest on that list is Lost, but it’s only the latest in a string of good shows we found out about late.

If you’re a fan of good science fiction, Battlestar Galactica (BSG) is one of the best shows on television. Since it is good sci-fi, it doesn’t come across as a sci-fi show, but more a reflection of the war on terrorism. The fact that it’s on the Sci-Fi Channel is, to me, a source of constant amazement.

If you like forensics/cop/detective shows, one of my favorites is a BBC production (on BBC America) called Waking the Dead. The plots are intriguing and complex, the characters are interesting, and despite stereotypes, it’s a fast-paced show. It’s a British mini-series, so each one runs two hours.

As long as we’re talking British programming, if you like spy shows, check out MI-5 (Spooks in the UK), run on A&E (they’re currently not running episodes, but they will start up again). It’s a cross between 24 and Mission Impossible (the series, not one of the movies). Smart, fast-paced, intellectual, it’s a roller coaster show. Speaking of Mission Impossible, am I the only one who thinks it odd that it isn’t being shown in syndication?

If you’re an Agatha Christie fan, then David Suchet’s Poirot, also on A&E, is perfection itself. No other actor has so exactly personified the idiosyncratic Hercule Poirot, and the sets are remarkable.

My current addiction is Lost. Truly enigmatic, like Myst, character-driven, mysterious, this is imaginative, creative writing. What’s it about? Well, hard to say, really. That’s what makes it such a great, addictive show.

I don’t watch television for politics or moral lessons. I watch television for entertainment. I can tolerate a certain amount of lefty moonbattiness on television. After years of being addicted to Law and Order, I stopped watching it because no matter how much I love cop shows, even I have a limit on how much left-wing nuttiness I can take. I’ve started watching it again, however, now that Dennis Farina has joined the show and provided a badly-needed common sense (read conservative) balance to Jesse Martin’s anti-gun hand-wringing. Now if we can just get rid of McCoy and hire a conservative ADA.

One of the problems with the Law and Order franchise is that Dick Wolf and his writers don’t understand cops or conservatives. So we almost always have something utterly unimaginable happening, such as a previous ADA, who was then staunchly conservative, showing up later as a crusading, left-wing defense attorney (sorry folks, liberals turn into conservatives, not vice versa).

I’d argue that Law and Order: Special Victims Unit, while moonbatty, is less overtly agenda driven than its parent show. Yes, we’re always getting the PC feminonsense party line from Olivia, but almost as often as not, she’s wrong, and that rape victim was lying all along. And Chris Meloni’s character is one of the more believable television cop characters. The subject matter is pretty dark, and I admit, not for everybody.

And I will agree that sometimes, an otherwise excellent show can become so moonbatty and off the wall left-wing that it becomes unwatchable. Boston Legal is an excellent example. When every episode serves to bash America, Bush, and the War on Terrorism, particularly under the disingenuous label of “civil libertarianism,” then the show becomes crap.

The original CSI is still a classic. It has that magical combination of good writing and great characters. Its secret is that it’s an ensemble show; everybody is equally important, and they have a chemistry that’s hard to achieve (the other two shows in the franchise haven’t figured this out yet, though CSI: New York is improving).

Without a Trace is surprisingly good television, especially given that the premise seems so limited. Again, it’s got that magic combination of ensemble cast, chemistry, and great writing. Yes, it has from time to time dipped into the cliché pot, such as one Martin’s drug addiction, but overall, it’s a great show.

If you want social and political commentary — along with lots of laughs — there’s the one and only South Park. Warning: there are no sacred cows on this show.

Another show with no sacred cows that’s refreshing in its skeptical approach to everything, is Penn and Teller’s Bullsh*t, on Showtime. These guys skewer everything and everybody. It’s one of those shows where you wonder if the people who agree to appear on the show have ever seen it. See especially the New Age, UFO, and PETA episodes.

Comedies? Forget it. Other than South Park, every comedy on television is trite and juvenile — then, that’s been true since the 70s. Nope, I didn’t get Seinfeld, but I did like Roseanne, at least until they won the lottery.

But television beats movies hands down.

from Jonah Goldberg, on National Review Online:

Here is an article on BSG and Mormonism (if you can get past the white text on the black background — my eyes! my eyes!)