Cylon is the Future of Man

It's becoming quite clear that my mission in life (or at least in first-quarter-2006) is to get as many readers as I can watching Battlestar Galactica. The second season of this stellar show (among my favorites ever) ended on Friday night. Season 3 doesn't begin until October which means you have six months to get caught up. Rent the DVDs from Netflix or download the episodes from iTunes. Or something. Just see. this. show.

The best compliment I can pay Battlestar Galactica is that watching it reminds me of watching P.T. Anderson movies or Buffy the Vampire Slayer (even though it's nothing like either) in that even when I think I know where it's going, I am often surprised at how it gets there. And sometimes I just lose my bearings entirely.

This will sound contradictory but, true to form, the Season 2 Finale was unexpected and atypical. The final super-charged moments pull off a really superb trick: No actions other than arrivals and departures are taking place. But it's more nerve-wracking than any action sequence, like the weight of what's coming will crush you. Plus the narrative rug pulling suggests such a new and startling direction for an already great series that I'm more pumped about it than ever. This then is what season finales should always aim for.

I frakkin' love this show. It should collapse under the weight of Emmy trophies. Not that the Emmys were ever or will ever be this cool.