I just figured out a key difference...

I just figured out a key difference between the hard-drinking Colonel Tigh and me: When I booze, my bad decisions amount to accidentally playing ELO's entire greatest-hits CD on the jukebox and annoying the crap out of the whole bar. His involve declaring martial law, smacking around one of his most loyal people the Chief and then ordering an ill-conceived boarding that gets a bunch of unarmed civilians shot up. But moving right along, I get a kick out of Number Six objecting to the use of the word "toaster" because it's a racial epithet. Uh... I know I've mentioned this before, but your people nearly wiped their people out, hon. They're p---ed.

Speaking of p---ed: "You're gonna blame me for your own inadequacies?" Tigh's wife screams at him. "You are so fracking passive that if I didn't push you, you'd never get your head out of that fracking bottle and do anything!" His reaction? A slap, followed by, for some reason, sex. Well, at least we can't call her castrating. But what's up with Baltar nearly killing the Chief to force Cylon Boomer to tell him how many of her kind are hiding in the fleet? You mean to tell me he couldn't have rigged something up to make it merely look like Tyrol was going to die? But do they know how to jack up the plot tension, or what? With Roslin off the ship and with Apollo piloting after saying goodbye to his out-of-commission father interesting things just got a lot more interesting. (Credit Tigh with one decent decision in ordering Hot Dog not to fire on the president's vessel, by the way.) What a testament to the show and to Edward James Olmos' work when you realize how much better you feel seeing Adama up and about. And did anyone expect to see Cally pull a Jack Ruby on Boomer? Don't feel bad for Grace Park, though. Remember the beauty of working on a sci-fi series: She'll still have plenty of work playing other versions of herself.