Battlestar Galactica Well, our...

Battlestar Galactica
Well, our Starbuck prides herself on being just like the guys, so I suppose that applies to the bedroom, too. Baltar, resistance-leader Anders... She's beginning to give Rescue Me's Franco a run for his money in the free-love department. Speaking of resistance, welcome back, Adama. Your kid's now a rebel and you get to pick up the pieces of Tigh's mess. Interesting scene where he makes the point that Cylon Boomer was more than a machine to him, anyway. I would've expected him to be more of a hardass than that. Back to Starbuck, who, as if taking a bullet and getting separated from her pals wasn't bad enough, now has to sit through a baby-making speech from a creepy doctor who says her womb's her most important asset. What next, Doc? Tips on keeping dinner conversation light and airy when hubby comes home from a hard day at the office? Even though I'm quite sure this guy's a civilization-wrecking Cylon, I think his social views wig me out the most.

Have I mentioned lately how squeamish I am? Starbuck's glass-shard-to-the-jugular move just really, really turned my stomach even though that doc clearly deserved it and the pregnant-woman baby farm made it worse. That said, though, gotta love when she tagged a copy of Number Six in the noggin with that fire extinguisher, which makes the score two to nothing, by my count. Then the big battle is joined. Have I also mentioned the big metal Cylons freak me out, too? Maybe it's childhood issues. My brother belted me in the head with a Zeroid when I was an infant or something. I don't know. But it's a really interesting twist to make love a missing ingredient for the Cylons, never mind making them religious to boot. Brings a whole new "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?" spin to this. And once again I fall victim to a touching moment. Starbuck telling Anders goodbye a crying Starbuck made it through even my cynical-TV-writer armor. 'Nother good one, Galactica folks.  MP