Break a Leg

So does anyone remember a blog post I wrote way back in March or so of 2008, about how Battlestar Galactica sucks? I didn't think so. Well Yuri recently pointed out that it had lately been receiving some comments, and had pretty much been commented on sporadically over the course of the year. If you search "Battlestar Galactica sucks" on Google. that blog post is the second third result on the list. Pretty powerful stuff. Looking at the post now you can see that the latest comment is from February of this year.

I would actually highly recommend reading those comments, they are quite entertaining. I think one person even threated my life. Wait, nevermind, it wasn't a person. It was Sebastian. The overall tenor of the comments though is one of complete and total agreement. People are generally hailing me as a speaker of wisdom, a truthsayer; one commentor likened my revealing Galactica's lack of clothes as something to be memorialized alongside Bush's leaving office.

Look it up. This is all true.

What slowly dawned on me after reading these comments was something powerful, something awe-inspiring; and yes something very, very humbling. I know, I know, this is me we're talking about. Maybe it was just a little humbling. What I'm getting at here is the realization (and I can't help but believe this is 100% true) that I cancelled Battlestar Galactica.

Sorry kids, the truth's the truth.

Yuri wanted me to take the popularity of that single post and kick it up a notch. You know, like choose some popular, well-liked geek show and dress it down old school? He sounded just like a TV executive, "Let's ride that horse and beat it at the same time!" It was truly pathetic, I don't know what's happened to him. Doesn't Lost practically satirize itself?

Right, so I do intend to at least revisit BSG and see how she's faring (I haven't missed a single episode people, I'm actually a huge fan), but were I to try and write anything meaningful and topical now it would just end being like when George Lucas developed the story for Temple of Doom while he was going through his divorce. Hearts being ripped out of chests? Damn George, don't get too symbolic or anything, kay?

I have hemorrhoids a hemorrhoid right now so fuck, I'm really pissed off about shit. You try writing something interesting when your ass is on fire. 

Oh right, and my ass is on fire.

Tune in next week for less discussion of "cushions of tissue filled with blood vessels at the junction of the rectum and the anus", and more "BSG/Lost/Burn Notice/American Idol" sucks.