Sympathy for the Devil

So, I’ve been distracted and a little lazy, regarding this Occasionally business at least.  And doing my dishes—definitely distracted and lazy about the dishes.  Not so much concerning the rest of my life.  I’ve been on point almost everywhere else.  But I do miss spouting off something like regularly.

How we happen to have this time together now is I’m sitting in a jury pool.  I’ve had three hours of sleep, seeing as I worked last night, and I’m sitting here in a Ramones T-shirt and sunglasses resigned to the fact that I absolutely cannot sleep sitting upright.  Hey ho, let’s go!

As I wrestle with my fundamentalist Christian upbringing on one hand and my respect for Rousseau and the social contract on the other, surprisingly I’m not thinking about what I’ll say if they call my name…I’m thinking about the devil.

Satan is the best character ever.  Have you noticed?  In fiction, we call him the antagonist; on television and in films, simply the bad guy.  “The devil made me do it!”  Our antagonists motivate our narratives.  They tempt and taunt our good guys, doing everything they can to create conflict.  And every story needs fresh, relevant, or daring conflict.  In fact, most of the time, the bad guy makes the flick.

So, I find myself wondering, as is my wont, ‘If I could be any devil, what kind of devil would I be?’  I don’t have to ponder very long before the vision comes to me.  I’d totally be a cylon!  A skin job, of course. 

I feel compelled to interrupt my geek-fantasy fan-boy rant for a moment here to shame the shit out of you if you don’t know what the frak I’m talking about.  Everyone who’s anyone knows that Battlestar Gallactica is the best thing television has to offer these days, so don’t bother with Netflix or TiVo—just go out and buy the DVDs already.  And if you want to argue the merits of Ugly Betty or Top Chef, STOP READING MY BLOG!  We’ll both be happier.

So, yeah, being a cylon would be so hot.  (Technically, all female cylons are hot, literally and metaphorically.  Strangely, the men are not, unless Sam is actually a cylon (which, incidentally, I’m not completely sold on yet (I heart parentheses, by the way (being a tangential thinker and all)) no matter what Ronald Moore says).)  But which cylon would Hillery be?  I’m not a Number Six and definitely no version of Sharon Valerii.  I simply cannot fill the boots of a Lucy Lawless character—plus, I’m not bedding down with Baltar…ewwww.  There is one yet to be revealed model, the twelfth—a highly contentious topic for us to speculate until the show returns in 2008.  But I have a better idea.

If I could be any cylon I’d be the thirteenth model; the one they’re working on in their tricked out toaster labs; the one they’re making from the eggs they took from Starbuck when she was in captivity on the farm; the one that only exists in my imagination…for now.  To my mind, the interbreeding has been merely a means to this end. 

Starbuck is the character I identify with most.  There’s a cherry picking party of protagonists to choose from: Adama, Appolo, President Roslin, and even Baltar (although he does have so much Satan in him, he’s just too incompetent to be really eee-vil—hence, not wanting to sleep with him.).  But Starbuck best represents the beauty of our flawed humanity.  It is, after all, her dysfunctional rebelliousness combined with blind faith that carry her through her most harrowing hours.  She’s a hot head, untrusting, stubborn, fiercely protective, rarely pragmatic, more than a little insecure, and the bitterness cultivated by all the hard knocks she’s taken is necessary to cover the biggest heart you’ve ever seen.  That’s us all over!  Right?

Starbuck has been identified by the cylons as a pivotal player in their grand plan.  They’ve taken the trouble to study her both physically and psychologically.  I think they think (not that there really is a they—I’m fully aware that my hypotheses are all predicated on the wild eyed imaginings of Sci-Fi Channel staffers) that if they can beat her, they can beat us.  So they’re making a humachine based on her to take us down.  And that’s the devil I’d be if I had to choose today.  So many beautiful problems!

I wouldn’t look exactly like her, I’d have a little Sam in me and a little Zak (rather than specifically Lee) just to throw her off.  I’d be a super-humanoid, so I’d probably be able to out fly her.  I’d count cards and drink her down too.  The only chance she’d have would be hand to hand combat—close, personal, messy, unpredictable.  That’s what people are good at.  That’s all we’ll ever have over engineered perfection and it’ll always be a story worth telling.  Looking for something to tide you over to season four?  Watch Gattica!

Hillery

Hillery eventually learned not to say everything that came to mind. Some were too good not to write down.

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