Friday's BSG

"Six of One"

Survivor Count: 39,676

After a merely "good" Season 4 premiere, I'm happy to report that many problems were resolved, and that the show veers away from the "silly" direction it was going in. Explanation of Anders being scanned by the Raider? Check. Season conflict established with the cylons? Check. Roslin being badass, Adama coming to his senses, and Baltar getting cylon-ass? Check, check and check.

Last episode ended with Starbuck pointing a gun at President Roslin and telling her she was going the wrong way. This one begins with Starbuck handing the gun to Roslin and saying, "If you think I'm a cylon, shoot me."

Roslin shoots, proving she is the most bad ass President possible. If she was running in the primary, I might be forced to switch my vote to her.

While the human drama in the episode is ratcheted up from last week, the cylons really get the meat of the episode, with a civil war a-brewin' between the factions. Let's just say that when rules are broken, a faction of Toasters decides it's time to play by their own rules. 

This may or may not include giving the Centurions rational thought.

Whoops. Better be on the side of the machines with arms made of guns than against. Brother Cavil learns this the hard way.

I love Tigh, in a secret meeting of four of the final five, telling Tory that, while they need to get information from Baltar about who the final cylon could be, she does not need to "get on [her] back for him." 

"Gee," she replies, "Thanks." 

All in all, a great episode that leads me to believe that maybe, just maybe, BSG can remain consistently awesome in its final season.

If you haven't started watching, it's time to. Netflix it, or buy the mini-series here, season one here, season 2 here & here, and season three here. 

Needs More Cowbell*

*cowbell = action and drama

John Adams on HBO is an unfortunate product: high budget, great cast, in-depth, but plodding and dull. It is an unfortunate world where one of the most intriguing Presidents -- an incredibly flawed egomaniac with a penchant for fit-throwing and wig-stomping, as well as incredible self-sacrifice in service to his country, and an extended letter-writing correspondence with Jefferson that provides amazing insight into the minds of the Founding Fathers -- is reduced to a mumbling, emo-parody of the real man.

I think Adams is also one of the less cinematic of the Founding Fathers. My preference is Alexander Hamilton, whose rise and fall was much more dramatic. But even Adams, though less cinematic, has a great story. An incredible character as flawed as great. But HBO doesn't do any of that. No. Not at all.

Rather it's a stoic and grim version of history, showing us every little detail and remaining as utterly "true to history" as possible. But playing history out as it happened is often not dramatic enough -- even the Cuban Missile Crisis happened over thirteen days, and while a great movie has been made about it, it condenses 312 hours into 2 and a half. And it has action sequences. 

But the founding of the country is a great setting for Drama. The Founding Fathers are perhaps the most interesting of American politicians because they were regular men [of the times: rich, white, protestant] who happened to do great things, warts and all. And seeing a 7 part mini-series on these men fighting amongst each other with no less than the fate of their country at stake should be riveting.

But Adams fumbles. Paul Giamatti and Laura Linney are miscast as John and Abigail. 

Not that I'm whining simply because they aren't the greatest facsimiles of the real people.

Laura Linney plays Abigail as wounded, hurt by Adams long absences, and seemingly incapable of existing without him. She snaps at her children when he's gone, and eagerly anticipates his letters. While this isn't necessarily far from the truth, the element that distinguishes the Adams so much from the regular people of the day was their incredible pride. Abigail was hyper intelligent, and even in John's absence she would have been headstrong and active -- in fact, Abigail Adams reminds me a lot of this woman.

And, then there's Paul Giamatti. Poor Paul Giamatti. I don't know whether by his choice or the director's, but the most interesting aspect of his personality -- his ginormous ego and incredible inferiority complex -- are only hinted at. We have yet to see Adams go on a long, shouted rant. We don't see him yell and scream at his opponents, and have only glimpsed snippets of his cruel wit at cutting down those who disagree with him. When he bitches to Abigail about how his accomplishments are snubbed and diminished, he's whining. John Adams, the real person, would shout and stomp. And Abigail would shout. There's none of the interesting dynamic that makes John Adams so compelling. In real life he was incredibly flawed. In the mini-series, he's super sympathetic. 

And then there's the plotting. I know it may seem like John Adams haggling for loans in Europe might not be the most lively event to cover, but the drama in it, the stakes in it, are so high that the miniseries often forgets them -- if John Adams couldn't secure a loan for his country, the very existence would be threatened. If John Adams couldn't secure the loans, there very well may not have been a United States of America. 

As a positive, I think the portrayal of the non-Adams characters, specifically Jefferson and Franklin, are spot on and fun to watch. Jefferson is the emo-radical with the holier-than-thou attitude to cover his amazing lack of ethics. Franklin is a horny old coot who knows he's smarter than anyone in the room. And the brief glimpses of Hamilton (A-Ham, as I refer to him in my constant ramblings) -- a great political wheeler-dealer at a time when politics as we know them were just revving up -- are entertaining.

To end this, my biggest gripe is that the really interesting aspects of history are glossed over. The show avoids showing us how truly new this whole notion was, how the stakes were so high, and the characters so interesting.

There are two episodes left. Let's hope they're better than the previous five.

I Punk'd Myself

I was driving home from RoboGirlfriend's house a few weeks ago, my iPod on, unable to find anything to listen to. It's an iPod Mini, and since I got it (from RoboGirlfriend) I've been pretty thorough in my maintenance of the music on it. If I listen to something too frequently, I to replace it with something I haven't heard in a while. If I never listen to an artist or a set of tracks on the iPod, I remove it. I thought I knew the contents of my iPod through and through.

Until I skipped to the next song.

It was "Fingerbangin'" by Sweetheart Sweatheart.

I could not turn it off.

It was hypnotizing. The song is alternately catchy and horrifying, funny and sophomoric. I could not believe that not only had someone written the song -- enough reason to commit them, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest-style, to a psychiatric ward -- but they took the time to convince their friends to join in, and then record the song. I mean, theoretically someone spent at least two hours on this!  Two hours! That's like an afternoon!

And even more confusing is I have no idea how the song got on my computer, much less my iPod. Yeah, sometimes I'll download music (mostly from here, here, and here) and not listen to it for a while, but I pay attention to what I put on my iPod. Usually I listen to a snippet of the songs I'm putting on, so I can make sure it's the song I intend it to be.

So how this got onto my iPod without me ever hearing it is a mystery. And now, like a disease, I can not shake it.

I don't know if I shared this with you because I like you or hate you. It's probably both.

-RoboNixon

Floppy Dick Jokes

South Park is another one of my favorite TV shows, and it isn't because it's the most consistent thing in the world. The show swings back and forth from barely-watchable to hilarious-and-relevant with little rhyme or reason. In the past two seasons, the misses greatly out number the hits, but when South Park is on its game, it can't be rivaled by anything else.

When South Park is a hit it's usually because it's smarter than anyone would believe a dick-and-fart-joke machine could be. Season 10's Cartoon Wars is one of my favorite episodes of comedic television ever, and will get its own whole post at some in the future.

But last night was the first really funny episode of the twelfth season, featuring a penis-backed-mouse running through the city with a dash of socio-economic commentary. Titled, "Eek, A Penis." Mrs. Garrison decides that being a woman isn't all it's cracked up to be and that the time has come to get her sex-change operation reversed. The only problem is... well, she's out of penis, so to speak. This takes us to the lab where they grow human body parts on mice, where the penis-mouse escapes, and hilarity ensues. As the parallel story line, Cartman takes over as teacher of the class when Mrs. Garrison leaves. He's such a success at teaching kids how to cheat, and, thus, succeed, that he's offered a role as teacher to a group of inner-city kids. Realizing they'll never listen to a white kid from the suburbs, Cartman shaves a bald-patch onto his head, renames himself "Mr. Cartminez" and teaches all the inner-city kids the "white method" of success -- cheating.

While the episode borders on misogyny with it's portrayal of every woman in South Park leaping onto an elevated item and hiking up their skirt and screaming when they spot the "penis," the image of a feminized man running around, literally in pursuit of his manhood is hilarious. Oddly, it makes me think of Fight Club, and that "generation" of wimpy-men, all searching for their masculinity. As a bonus, we get MR. Garrison back.

But also of interest is the Cartman storyline. Playing into the "save-the-struggling-students" genre, Cartman pretends to be Hispanic (or some strange Cartman variant thereof), to make a difference to these kids. What motivates Cartman is never really established, but playing with the conventions of the genre -- where the kids must learn to use their minds to get ahead -- is skewed.

As RoboGirlfriend says all the time, there is still an amazing amount of White-Privilege in our country today, which I think is often overlooked. I mean, it's just the state of things -- people don't comment every day on the sky being blue. But while the episode skewers the genre, it also shows that White Americans essentially have a get-out-of-jail-free card. The answer to bad inner-city schools is not, of course, teaching them how to cheat "white-style," but the episode isn't about the solution. It's about the problem. And the problem is that there's an imbalance in the system. 

I do wish Cartman had not used Bill Belichick as the example of white-cheating. But that's due to my man-crush on Tom Brady and undying love for my home team (even if we shall never talk about the 2008 Super Bowl. Ever.).

There is a topper though. Nothing will beat the homage to An American Tail. It's like this, only instead of two mice singing, it's a mouse... And the penis growing out of its back.

[EDIT: Here's that clip on youtube...]

Wow.

-RoboNixon

Speaking of BSG...

...Tricia Helfer, who plays the Cylon Number Six (and all her variations) on BSG, has just signed a deal to make sure that we will never be without Six for a while longer. She'll be starring in a Fox drama at some point in the next year.

Totally sweet if they get a good script that plays to her strengths. I think she's fantastic as Number Six on BSG, but I don't think she's great at playing vulnerability without overselling it. But here's to keeping your career going!

-RoboNixon

Get Your BSG On

Battlestar Galactica is my favorite television show of all time. Period. And yet, whenever I recommend it to someone, they get this look on their face, like they just farted and they can't wait to leave the area. 

"Ew, a show named 'Battlestar Galactica?' What's it about? Aliens? And space-ships? And "Battlestars?" 

When I met my RoboGirlfriend, we started talking about TV. She was a fan of S&theC and Emo Doctors, all of which I nodded my head at, blank stare focused somewhere near the coffee machine behind her. 

"Robo? Robo?" I snapped out of my zone. It was time to reveal my list of fave TV shows. I rattled off some of the regulars: LOST, Weeds, Dexter, and so forth. Then, I mentioned, my favorite show was Battlestar Galactica.

Her face screwed up. Someone farted.

At least, that's what it looked like. 

"Battlestar Galactica? That sounds like the kind of show my dad watches..." Great. Lumped in with the father. I haven't even met the guy yet, but when it's the first date and you're lumped in with the father, it's over. 

Luckily, I survived the most harrowing of what I like to call BSG INCIDENTS. As such, the time has come to educate the masses.

Battlestar Galactica isn't for nerds, though nerds watch it. It's an intelligent show, with high production values, a (mostly) top-notch cast, and (nearly-always) great writing.

But I'll let Time Magazine, which ranked Battlestar Galactica as one of the best 100 TV shows ever, do the talking: 

Like Rod Serling did with The Twilight Zone, Ronald D. Moore and David Eick use science fiction to write about current events, in this case, viewing the facts on the ground in the war on terror and the war in Iraq from the perspective of deep space. As in the campy 1970s series it remade, a distant civilization of humans has nearly been eradicated by the sentient robots, called Cylons, that they created. Here, many of the Cylons appear human, adding a layer of sleeper-cell paranoia and moral questions. The Cylons' evolved status raises philosophical questions -- what does it mean to be human? -- and complicates things morally when the human military waterboards Cylon captives and stages suicide bombings to end an occupation. A stark, well-imagined story of a war in a galaxy far, far away, yet too close for comfort.

Wow. Hrm. Doesn't sound too nerdy for me. I mean, heck, they do say, "deep space" and "Cylon" -- wtf is a Cylon? Isn't that what makes pans non-stick? -- and "galaxy" and "sentient robots," but hell, I mean, they also say it's sophisticated! So why not give it a chance? Right?

No. You are wrong. No one gives it a chance, because the show is named Battlestar Galactica.

Even though Edward James Olmos and Mary McDonnell have, among them, three Oscar nominations. Even though the show is so stylish that even Iron Man is duplicating some of its technique. Even though the show won the Peabody Award. It was even nominated for two Emmys this past year, for writing and directing -- not too shabby for a show no one gives a chance. 

But you will. You will because I am telling you to. Read this, and catch up, and then watch BSG's final season, on the Sci-Fi Network, on Fridays at 10pm.

Oh, and to really catch up: 

-RoboNixon

New Beginnings and World War Z

Welcome.

Hello.

This is RoboNixon, tuning in, finally, at Disappear Here. This is where mass media will be consumed, digested, and analyzed for your ... pleasure seems like the wrong word. Distraction. For your distraction.

I recently discovered the novel WORLD WAR Z: AN ORAL HISTORY OF THE ZOMBIE WAR by Max Brooks on the floor of an acquaintance's room, buried beneath copies of Y: THE LAST MAN and my own copy of MARVELS. I picked it up, bored, remembering I had promised its owner I would, one day, dig into it and return for discussion.

Twenty-Four hours later, the books was done. I had eaten the entire novel, not literally, of course, in a day.

Written as a series of interviews a decade or so after the end of World War Z, the ten year long battle against the illogical rise of zombies takes itself mostly serious, with elements of parody and satire in the proceedings.

Using interviews from subjects dispersed around the world, all survivors, of course, of the struggle that took place, Brooks' work is thrilling, amusing, and at times disturbing, conveying the sense of desperation and horror of the events as they unfold.

It doesn't serve me to summarize the book -- that's what the rest of the internets is for. Rather, I'd like to discuss certain chapters, "interviews," that have been floating around in my head since I read it.

One chapter in particular occurs towards the middle of the zombie war. A pilot doing airlift missions to the isolated areas of human survivors on the east coast of the USA finds her ship downed in Louisiana, on her own in a swamp infested with, of course, zombies.

The pilot tells her story of bare-survival with emotion; were it not for an isolated "skywatcher" named Mets who talks to her over her radio, guiding her to safety, the pilot insists she would be dead.

The story itself is fairly spartan, detailing the landing, an initial confrontation near the body of one of her co-crew members, her discovery of a half-submerged Humvee, and the final battle and escape. What is notable is the emotional attachment between the pilot and Mets -- between the person fighting for their life, the other fighting to motivate her. It isn't until the end of the "interview' that Brooks discloses that according to all records, there is no Mets, there is no skywatcher by that name, and that after the crash of her plane the pilot's radio was broken.

The story is haunting for a variety of reasons. Brooks, who in other passages has characters representing Howard Dean, Karl Rove, and Bill Maher (not to mention the variety of other pseudo-vague references to real-world characters), manages to keep his genetic propensity for comedy subdued, making the story of isolation in a world of danger more relatable. The sparse storytelling, the gray visuals, the no-nonsense attitude of the interviewee all contribute towards the story's twist: that is, that there is no Mets. That the pilot created her out of the ether to keep herself focused, to drive her towards her ultimate goal: survival and evacuation.

There are a few other stories that end in twists such as this, but none is as affecting as the story of this trained pilot cracking. Hell, in a world at war with billions of zombies, wouldn't you?

The fact that the United States is the de-facto leader of the Zombie Resistance is also comforting; despite our current (and, I suppose, inevitable) flaws, the near-future that the book exists in has what is left of the world uniting behind a USA lead plan to eliminate the zombie threat, a USA united behind a coalition government with President Colin Powell-Facsimile and Vice President Howard Dean-type, "the Whacko." In a fictional apocalypse of the undead, it's still nice to know that the "individualism" of the USA is what gives it the highest survivor ratio in the world, as well as the leadership to eliminate zombies from its borders, then Canada, then Mexico.

Patriotism aside, it's a fun book, a quick read, and worth your time, zombie-fetishist or not.

RoboNixon