You know how there's this date that is officially called 'the start of spring' but it may or may not have anything to do with the onset of spring-like weather?
I know the writer's strike 'officially' ended a few weeks ago, but as far as I'm concerned, the real writer's strike ends tomorrow when Battlestar Galactica begins it's fourth and final season.
After a painful period of withdrawal, I managed to forget for a while, that Ron Moore had made me into his puppet, but now, the strings are stretched taught. I managed to hold out for a couple of years, but thanks to the Evil that is Netflix, I dipped my toe into BSG waters and sank in over my head. If I could have, I'm sure I would have gone through the entire series without sleeping. As it was, I had responsibilities to tend to, so it took me a few months.
I'm not going to embarrass myself by pretending I can wait for the fourth season to finish and come out on DVD. I don't have the Scifi channel, but somehow, someway, I'll figure out how to see the episodes every week. The first one at least, is airing on the scifi web site tomorrow.
One down, twenty-three to go. This is going to be so good.
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