Frak Earth

I could frakkin' let loose about my extreme disappointment with the finale of Battlestar Galactica, but I really want to just say this:

From the beginning, I'd been hoping and hoping and hoping that this wouldn't be how it ended. That they wouldn't find our Earth and basically be the first humans there. Because that is the dumbest god damn thing I've ever heard. When they got to Earth at the end of the first half of the last season, and it was all bombed out, I was like, "Oh! Yay!" But then they were like, "All these remains are Cylons," and I was like, "Whuh? That's not Earth, then, huh?"

And then they ended up here, on Africa, and they just... Ugh! Aside from being cheesy and stupid, it doesn't make any anthropological sense, but I don't even know enough about anthropology to tell you why, so I'll just skip that.

What I wanted to happen, ever since we found out Earth wasn't this planet we're living on, was that they would eventually find this ball of rock, and they would find the ruins of humanity's first try at civilization. And it would be enough thousands of years for the planet to be recovering from whatever kind of bombs and crap would have destroyed humanity in the first place. They could find humanity's real origins, not some place called Kobol where the Earthlings would have gone to start over and forget the disaster of Earth ever happened.

Instead they landed here before anything got going, and the whole series turned into a warning for us, the latest modern incarnation of humanity, not to frak too much with technology, because the robots will turn on you and blow your entire world to pieces.

In retrospect, "All this has happened before, and all this will happen again," is fucking depressing. I mean, it has been demonstrated that humanity is slow to learn from its mistakes, but the way the fleet decided to settle on Earth meant that they didn't even want to try. Because, you know, we modern-day Earthlings are entirely unaware of this civilization that went before us, so everything those 38,000 people may have learned was lost--literally hurled into the frakking sun.

And then there's all the things that came from this Earth that have appeared throughout the series. We'll ignore the most obvious, "All Along the Watchtower," and the Greek gods and the zodiac for now. What I want to talk about is the words--the words that Baltar and Roslin and Sam used that came from English writers. Baltar and Roslin both quoted Shakespeare. When Sam was all brain-broken, he babbled words from Milton, from Paradise Lost. Now. The way I was hoping things had happened, that literature had made it from Earth to Kobol to the Colonies, maybe in tattered form and not well-documented or something, but still, it had been written before, and it had been able to last through the years, because it was that pervasive throughout human civilization. Shakespeare, especially, has that gift.

But the way it seems to have happened now, after the finale, is that artists are just being divinely inspired to say the same things over and over again. Sam, Kara's dad, and Bob Dylan all wrote the same song. Sam and John Milton have the same exact words to say about existence and God and whatever.

The Shakespeare stuff, I guess I could overlook, because he is so pervasive it might be the writers didn't even realize they were quoting, but "shuffle off this mortal coil"? That just occurred to Gaius Baltar the way it occurred to William Shakespeare?

You know me. I think divine inspiration is absolute bullshit. So this is what bugs more than anything else. That there's no explanation for why Sam knows the words to Paradise Lost or why Laura Roslin would use the specific phrase "pound of flesh" in some kind of political situation. Damn, I can't remember why she used that--it was way back in the first season, I think--but I jumped on it right away as being the entire point of the play The Merchant of Venice. And since Roslin was using it metaphorically--you know, no one was asking for a literal pound of flesh, like in the play--where did she get it from???

Argh. I don't even care anymore about the lame thing they did with Starbuck: angel, demon, messiah, whatever the fuck. The language thing is such an issue. Like, the fleet arrived before homo sapiens sapiens even developed, because the people on the planet didn't even have language, and all the foreign humans spoke the same language, and yet, all these bazillions of different languages developed? And went through various stages of development? I'm sure no one on the staff thought about that, but oh my god, it is bugging the shit out of me.

And then the Greek gods, who have the same names as the Lords of Kobol. Did the Geminese (they were the fanatic planet, right?) end up in the Mediterranean and immediately establish their religion? I don't understand. It makes so much more sense to me if the humans who got to Kobol set up a new religion, a new civilization with the alleged best pieces of all the old ones from Earth, and over the years the story of how civilization on Kobol all started got lost, because I don't know, maybe it's because of the limited scope of the story, but it seems to me that all the people from the colonies speak the exact same language and have the exact same history/religion, and each colony has a variant take on aspects of this culture, but they have the same core. That seems to me more like what would happen after humanity's first collapse--they'd rebuild with bits and pieces of what they knew before. But here, on this Earth, a whole bunch of different cultures and religions and histories and languages developed, basically independently of each other. They all share certain similarities, certain myth patterns, because there are certainly shared aspects of humanity, but they're not similar enough to have the same core story as their base.

It was the easy way to go: to have the Kobol as the birthplace of humanity story be literal and to have the fleet be the first human inhabitants of Earth. They should have turned that story around, explored what Kobol meant, but I guess they didn't want to do another season, so they came up with this predictable-ass ending. Science fiction television has been doing this preachy "don't fuck with robots" ending over and over and over again. And that was what I liked most about Battlestar Galactica: it went beyond standard sci-fi tropes, like Ray Bradbury can do, like I thought the first season of Roswell did, and it was about the people, not about some message. But it ended up in a cliche sci-fi place: technology is fucking dangerous. The end. I mean, that was the actual end: fake Six and Baltar arguing about whether or not humanity would repeat its doomed relationship with technology.

And so I hated it. Hated it, hated it, hated it.