If you, like me, spent several years following the grim adventures and confusing sexcapades of humanity as it trekked through space looking for a new home, then you are now obliged to whistle a highland tune and feel wistful. You can also get sloppy drunk, smash something valuable, weep uncontrollably and moan, “Saul, Saul, oh Saul,” but that’s optional.
BSG is done…except for the prequel and two-hour special next fall and whatever else the SciFi channel can think up to milk the sore and chafed teat of BSG-fandom.
Everyone, I predict, will badmouth the socio-political commentary at the very, very end of the finale (it had, all told, about ten anti-climaxes), but I loved it, and I totally agree with it. As you all know, I’ve been yelling for years on this blog, “Stop tinkering with those robots; they’ll turn against us in the end!”
Why doesn’t anybody ever listen to me?
bramble posted this.
Image by Cisto via Flickr
