Guess who’s off the space wagon!...

Guess whos off the space wagon! The combined pressures of command and a wife like Lady Macbeth (along with the lack of a good spiritual program) have caused Tigh to resort to swigs from his boot flask just to get through a very hectic episode. First, Adama suffers a relapse of internal hemorrhaging, which immediately puts chain-smoking Doc Cottle in a crabby mood. "Will he be all right?" asks tipsy Tigh. "How should I know? Im not a psychic. So get the hell out of my way!" Rock on with your bad self, Guy Who Used to Be Dutch on Soap (aka Donnelly Rhodes). Elsewhere, Ellen Tigh cheerfully observed President Roslin hallucinating in her cell and passed the news on to her addled hubby during happy hour. "The little schoolteachers mind has gone bye-bye," she told Saul, insinuating that since Adama is laid up, Tigh is the Big Daddy of the Ragtags. Of course, thats exactly what Tom Zarek and his Quorum peers fear, and given Tighs erratic behavior, theyve got good reason for it. (Tigh did declare martial law at the end, after all.) Alas for Tigh, his plan to discredit Roslin went horribly wrong after a sympathetic guard smuggled her some primo-primo chomalla. Now back aboard the good ship Compos Mentis, Laura owned up to her breast cancer, positioning herself as the dying leader predicted by the scrolls to lead the Colonists to Earth. By spiels end she has the Quorum bowing and scraping (rather like Dubya and Congress). On Kobol, Crashdowns plan to take out the Cylon antiaircraft battery was a necessary one (despite Baltars "frackin" feelings, no one wanted to see incoming Raptors dusted, as they were the only way off the planet), but the LT shouldve just left Callie alone. Forget that a gunshot wouldve tipped off the Cylons to their attack (note how Baltars shooting of Crashdown did), how could the LT even consider pointing a weapon at Callie's little turned-up nose? Surprisingly, once the Cylons began raking them with gunfire, Baltar handled himself well for backstabbing coward, probably 'cause of Sixs goading ("Be a man, Gaius"). Still, Baltar insisted he's not ready to have children, even with a Cylon that only exists in his brain. After all, how could he care for such a kid? Can you see Baltar as Mr. Mom? Think about it: "Im sorry I fell asleep during our meeting with the Quorum, Madam President," says Baltar, pointing to his temple. "But you have no idea what its like up here! I couldnt fracking sleep because the colicky, half-Cylon brat I mentally sired wouldnt stop fracking crying the whole fracking night! You try changing a diaper in my brain at 4 in the morning!" Talk about a headache waiting to happen.