BSG_S4: WTF?!

(SPOILER ALERT - If you're a Battlestar Galactica Fan and haven't watched all of Season 4, don't read this. Really.)

I can't be the only person who has seen the final episodes of season 4 of BSG and checked under the couch for the missing plot. There's at least two episodes that should exist that seem to have gotten lost as far as I can tell. I went to the pilot of Caprica to see if they're there, but no - just more problems there (if the centurions are created by the combination of a grief-crazed father, a dodgy military contract and a punk genius happy-clapper accidentally dead daughter then how did the Cylons we know as the Final 5 know to spend those thousands of years travelling at sub-light speeds to travel to the 12 colonies and warn of the uprising she would create? See my dilemma? But I digress).

Ok. At least they didn't just fly into the sun (apart from Anders, sorry Anders, someone had to do it, and now that you're a weird-arse brain-in-a-bucket its gunna be you. There's no datastream for you to be zen with on New Earth). I liked the Kara Thrace music psychosis and culmination, I thought that tied a lot of incidental things together very very well. On the other hand, it is always hard to end a long and arduous journey, narratively speaking. We don't like settling for "they rode happily off into the sunset" which is how the wagon-train genre used to settle it. This is one of the difficulties of taking the Western genre into space. It all tracks well until you get to the sunset. Having said that, Serenity had a great sunset ending. Ends got tied, some emotional closure, an uncertain future. All good. So why the frack is the BSG ending so shite?

Firstly, because I think it tries to be cute about tying the story into our Earth (as opposed to Ancient Earth) and that feels kinda patronising. We're SF fans, you don't need to start putting big red YouAreHere arrows around the place (especially at the end. Idiots).

Secondly, because the 7 might have been denied resurrection technology, but the centurions had no mortality issues whatsoever. They're machines who can make more machines, and what happens at the end of the series? The machines who rebelled against the humans and launched the largest genocide program ever then got turned into the followers of the Seven Cylons, fought the big war for 4 years, participated in the civil war, and then... what?! Watched the last of the human-siding cylons ride off into the sunset with the humans leaving them in space with the sad-fuck Cavills and all those other numbers we don't really care about? And what? They made a cup of tea and took up tapestry? I'm not buying it, and I don't think you are either.

Thirdly, the idea that a space going population is going to walk away from their ships carrying *nothing* (look again at those lines of people, they aren't even wearing hats for frack's sake) and survive more than a week against mega-fauna? C'mon. Even I can't suspend that much disbelief.

Fourthly, we spend four years with this community, with the rousing "so say we all!" speeches of the Admiral, and then he goes and build a cairn on a clifftop to die alone with? No. I'm not saying that it might not really happen that way. People might well say "No i'm happy to give up all (ALL) of the comforts, medicines and technologies (including roofs) I've lived my whole life with and go off to compete with Cro Magnons to survive, and if we're all lucky our kids will interbreed with them and the centurions will forget that they hate our guts and that we've given up guns and we'll have a lovely time. But I simply do not believe that they would do that without at least one more speech on the ground from the old man, and a state funeral for you-know-who. (Point was possibly going to be about the raiders and other ships that landed them and the fossil record, but on reflection I think that the psychology is more important).

I'm weighing up how much of my annoyance is purely because the story has finished. I had a childish wish that it just wouldn't end and that these poor people, many of whom I have come to love, respect, and desire would remain trapped in a state of war, or fugitive guerrilla struggles for survival with their numbers slowly decreasing faster than they could ever grow, all just for my entertainment. I can't wish that on anybody. No, it had to end. In endings though, I am more selfish than I like. It doesn't have to be happy, and I'm not such a nihilist that I won't let it be happy. It is just that this ending seems like a nothing ending, and the epilogue feels like I've been watching a "Fall of the Roman Empire" lecture. Just not good enough from the crew who've taught us to expect more.

Grade: FF Fracking Fail - RESUBMIT.

Uber Monday Antidote

It's the first Monday of 2009 - can't you feel it?!
No amount of coffee is going to ease the pain of the first day back at work - no matter how good the aircon is. Rather than dwell on the less pleasant aspects of this, today is a perfect day to do a quick whip around of cool things that happened in 08.

There were plenty of great tech breakthroughs for a greener future. That's nice. Science is always clever, but where's the political will to implement what the scientists learn? Turns out America had a bit of a breakthrough in that regard in 08 with a new President elected and taking office in a couple of weeks who seems very keen to makes some changes. Of course, no offense to B.O., but KR made some promises before he took office that haven't quite panned out ... although kudos to him for starting out on the right foot with a long overdue apology.

Thankfully also a bit of good news for books - that some publishers (mostly of trashy escapism - but hey - whatever floats your boat) are thriving. That's good, I worry for books. All this kindle reader, and iphone crap gets plenty of "the future is paper-free" but books need to survive a while longer yet.

Until we head into space (My solar system or yours?) basically, when they will be way too heavy to earn a place in the hold and those poor colonists will be stuck with reading from monitors or possibly, if they're lucky some groovy type of thin and flexible "electronic paper" which the kids of the future will totally laugh their guts up at how we had to give it such a daggy and derivative name.

Some good things got done by activists in Australia. And there was a little bit of vindication for people like me who don't feel the need to breed. Sci-fi nerds who got another half season of Battlestar Galactica. Oh and a fully kick-arse Batman film.

There was loads more of good stuff in 08, please feel encouraged to add your favourite via the comments.

House Sitting

I thought my house sitting days were behind me when I hooked up with Riley. The cat owners who needed their groovy inner-city apartments lived in and their fish cared for (with the side bonus of being welcome to raid someone else's bookcase/dvd collection) were to become but a faded memory of ephemeral good luck.
How wrong I was. In a good way (at last).

Dog owners like to go away sometimes too, and as Riley is of a very portable size and nature, we continue to have the odd job as house sitters. Last time the perk was a swimming pool, tonight it's a cable internet connection for entrees, followed by a Very Large TV Screen for mains. I am quietly confident Battlestar Galactica is going to look pretty darn good on that screen. Oh yes, yes it will.
So Say We All.

Frack Me

Dogs and Sci Fi - they just bring people together.
A pretty social and crafty weekend, mostly with the Sisters. It's great having two sisters - it makes for three of us which is a good mischief number, and every now and then when we cackle over something dreadful, I feel a faint shudder of Macbeth fog rolling over some poor guy's back somewhere.... nahahahahahahahaaaa!

Anyway, we made resin fridge magnets (cool and toxic!), I made mustard pickles (I don't know why ok, and I already gave it all away), I won the b'day poker tournament (go me! With a flush no less!!), I threw more old crap away (hurrurah!), and I decided to visit the dog park on the other side of town that Yvj takes her two to.

I love the acceptance of dog parks. I imagine that perhaps this is what AA meetings are like, at least for the dogs. You just are who you are. You're into balls, or you're not. You run or you don't. Whatever. It's all cool. Of course the humans are more fraught. However, I had left on my fab-o "Frack Me" T shirt (purchased over the ever loving interweb) and this opened up an unexpected conversation about Sci Fi with a dalmatian owner. There you go. He recommended a few things, I threw a few suggestions into the mix, we patted dogs (apparently he bathes his dogs in the shower with him, and yes, uses the wife's shampoo on his favourite hahahahahahahaa). Turns out we like very different Sci Fi, but it was a pleasant social conversation interspersed with a running commentary from Yvj for my benefit on all the locals and their humans as they arrived. Quite the scene happening over there!

Back at Chawton, the pace has been pretty languid. I'm reading Lama Sura Das (letting go of the person you used to be) and my favourite quote from it today is "Let go or get dragged". Hi-larious. It's vying for quote of the book along with "Don't just do something, sit there!". Who knew buddhists made their own meditiating jokes? It's a revelation.
I slap my own thigh.

There's loads has happened.... um.... yeah ok, new neighbours. There's a kinda weird vibe and possibly 4 cats, so I'm not looking too closely at that side of the fence these days. Also, working bee at Chawton - the family came over on good friday and OBLITERATED all the problem trees (including "pruning" the mulberry tree to being 3 stumps about 2 feet off the ground). Basically they descended like locusts with electric chainsaws and I now get "quite a lot of light" into the yard. This was traumatic for me, but it's a case of tough love. The dead trees, homicidal trees and the barbed trees all had to go to make way for trees that grow food and give love (not pain). Also, word on the street is that S4 of BSG is about to really kick off.
Frack me, that's good news!

Ringing Research

My head was ringing all day, and on the way home I listened just to the noises of the car, the highway, the endless passing vehicles. I got passed by a pig yesterday. Sitting on 100 he accelerated past me and gave me the filthy look from hell. What?! Was my petticoat showing? Had I offended his pale pink sensibilities with my dirty back window? I don't know. But it did give Carte Blanche to all other vehicles on the road and I watched them move off into the distance in their illegal 115klm/hr caravan of speed. I just wanted some time alone.

Ringing in the head is unnerving. Sometimes it's in the ears - that's also not great. In the head is crazy land though. Is that just a kind of headache?
Oh - I just asked Wiki - and it reckons I have Tinnitus. Which it appears is largely subjective. In a few cases, it is objective and the person's ears actually emit sound. Full On! As it doesn't interfere with me falling asleep, it isn't severe. It's just that in Battle Star Galactica, they include the ship's hum as part of the soundtrack - and Firefly (tho not as much) and it's a big part of being immersed in those worlds - escaping into DVDs at night - is the soundscape.

That's hard to grasp - how integral sound is. There's no natural environment without it - except space. Sound can't travel in a vacuum. As a writer, it's something that gets largely left up to the reader - trying to do more than hint at the soundscape can really distract more than add to the mood. Sound is so much a part of everything to us, that it has effectively become invisible until it's not there. That's why those old BBC productions of novels are so hard to bear - too quiet. Only the dialogue. Creepy.

Sound. I crave quiet and my own head brings with it these noises - ringing, clicking and cracking, ticking, blood. So if you see me laying on the bed in the dark - I'm not being lazy (necessarily) I'm researching sound. Same goes for watching BSG or Firefly. That's my excuse for this week, and I'm sticking to it.