George: Take the trouble to construct a civilization, to build a society based on the principles of, uh... of principle... You make government and art and realize that they are, must be, both the same. You bring things to the saddest of all points, to the point where there is something to lose. Then, all at once, through all the music, through all the sensible sounds of men building, attempting, comes the Dies Irae. And what is it? What does the trumpet sound? "Up yours."
I always thought "Utopia" was some weird Tudor-era misspelling from eu-, like euphrasy and eulogy and, um, euphemism. The ironically named Eumenides. A perfect place, εὖ + τόπος. It's not. It's οὐ + τόπος: a place that doesn't exist and never will.
Laura runs after Caprica, putting on her politico voice, anxious to rally the players against Ellen; equivalent the voice Ellen keeps using, but fine-tuned for a schoolteacher who rose in the ranks of administration until she walked the halls of Caprica City's seats of power. That plastered smile I remember from when Hilary tried to give us universal healthcare and got shit on by old fat white men every day for about a hundred years: I get the joke, but the joke you don't know is better, and maybe I'll tell you one day. It's brittle and scary and I don't like it, and neither does she, but we both know what it means and why it's necessary. We never saw her in action as the Secretary of Education -- or when we did, it was framed as a consequence of Adar's infidelity and we didn't get to see the steel behind it -- but we've heard this voice, on Colonial Day and, later, in the election. It's her Gaius voice and it means "Schoolteacher hell, I've put down strikes before and I'll do it again unless you take me seriously."
"Caprica!" She fake-giggles, or gestures toward the act of giggling: "...Oh, that's funny, I don't... I don't think I've ever called you a name before." Caprica, whose pregnancy has now been threatened twice in one day and who has never gotten anything but total bullshit from Laura as long as she's known her, manages to pull it together and respond in kind: "Oh, I think you probably called me some names." Girl, you're new here. You don't even know about the forced abortions and fetal cell thievery. Laura's casual racism -- which she's obviously getting over, obviously -- is nothing compared to the crap she put the last pregnant Cylon through.
Laura laughs, realizing this won't be easy. Choosing her words more and more carefully: "Uh, I haven't had the chance... Well, no. I haven't taken the opportunity to congratulate you, and the baby..." She looks down and asks if Caprica's okay, between Ellen coming back, and having to beat up an entire cult this morning, and all that crap. What would be awesome is if her awesome icebreakers were even more fucked up, like, "Oh, and I'm so glad I finally decided to let you out of jail once Earth was a total shithole and nothing mattered anymore. Way to go on that one!" Or, "Hey, so we're both dying, thanks to Natalie. Now you'll see how the other half lives, huh? Before you die, I mean!" Or, "Sorry I spray-painted WHOREBAG on all the pictures of you down on New Caprica. Yeah, that was me. Guess we both know what it's like to get fucked by Gaius Baltar, huh? So how are things?"