Dr. Baltar or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Embrace the Fact that Battlestar Galactica is Taking Over My Life

Dr. Baltar or How I Learned…

I was sitting in a debating round following its end, and was giving my comments. The case had been about Nuclear/Non-Nuclear missiles on US submarines, and the argument was made that it was dangerous to have both on board since a country would have no idea whether it was nuclear or non-nuclear missile being fired, and would react similarly either way. In giving my comments, I was dumbfounded how they hadn’t thought about something. Here’s a paraphrasing of my comment:

“And, I might be wrong, but isn’t there some kind of radiological alarm that would let the other side know it was nuclear or non-nuclear?”

Well, I was wrong, and there isn’t. No, indeed, there is no such thing as a radiological alarm, as Chris pointed out to me. It exists only in the world of Battlestar Galactica.

I was reading a book just the other day, and it tells of how the author traveled through an archway in the middle of a clearing and found themselves in the Temple of Athena. I stopped thinking about nature and cancer, the actual topics of the book, and immediately took a trip to the surface of Kobol where there was the Tomb of Athena and where Gaius Baltar traveled through an archway in a clearing and ended up in the middle of a concert hall.

I was in another class when the professor noted how with the death of one character during childbirth it appeared that her spirit continued on into the body of her child. I didn’t immediately think of the literary or story consequences, but rather how similar this is to the Cylons. I figure Tricia Helfer could play a mean Catherine Earnshaw, as well.

It is in this way that I find myself constantly being brought into this television world, the world of Caprica, Starbuck, Adama, Cylons, and just about everything in between. This is the world of Battlestar Galactica. And, quite honestly, it is taking over my frakkin’ life.

I don’t know what it is about Battlestar Galactica that so encapsulates my daily life in a way that no other show does. It’s set in space, in either a far distant universe or a far distant future, and is generally not the type of show I would watch. If anything, it relates most closely to the shows my mother enjoys (The Stargates, as an example). And yet, somehow, it has begun to slowly become the most prevalent pop cultural guidance in my existence. Yes, perhaps even more prevalent than The Simpsons.

Sitting in class, listening to a lecture? I’m probably thinking about Battlestar Galactica. In fact, it’s gotten to the point where I can no longer just even just reference it. With The Simpsons and other references, I have a good internal laugh (Or external if someone is nearby) and then move on. They’re silly little jokes, references, and unless they require explanation there is no room for deep thought.

I can’t stop at referencing Battlestar Galactica. It just doesn’t work that way. When I consider each reference I hear, or see, or experience, I immediately begin analyzing it. I start to consider storylines, characters, and the political ramifications within its world. I can’t help but see more within these sudden impulses of thought, and as a result I can’t help but work further into my analysis.

And, as a result, here we are. This blog shall have to prove to be my most valuable asset in expunging Battlestar Galactica thoughts from my mind. I can’t continue to exist as long as my advanced analysis of Battlestar Galactica from the perspective of the Cyborg Manifesto remains inside my head. I don’t know how I’ll get through my post-Colonial class without considering the politics of New Caprica’s Tent City. And, once I finally get caught up, I doubt that there will be a lack of thoughts emerging from new episodes either.