Battlestar Galactica

Episode Report Card
Jacob Clifton: A+ | 2 USERS: A+
YOU GRADE IT
There's Beauty In The Breakdown

Escape velocity at a given point in space is equal to the speed an object would have if it started at rest from an infinite distance, and was pulled by gravity to that point. All the way from the temple to the altar, by vector and speed alone. He's never been headed anywhere but this point, he's saying. Dreams and fantasies or changeling monster, he's always had a destiny, and he is pulling a quick left. If it were Kara or Boomer I'd cheer, no matter how much it hurt, because he really doesn't know, and this is the only way he can know for sure, and you should always tell destiny to go fuck itself, even though the whole point of destiny is that it fucks you right back.

How do you escape velocity, when all your velocity is speeding you toward something unknown and evil and terrifying? What do you do when you're stuck in a box with no way out and no chance at reprieve and no way of knowing if the box exists? Turn into something else. "Great! Do it! Please! For the love of the Gods, please demote me. Get me off your frakkin' ship!"

Everybody's freaked out, not least the Chief, but most of all the Admiral: "Specialist Tyrol, I want you off my hangar deck before you endanger another pilot. You're to report to Petty Officer Bassom tomorrow morning at 0600 for reassignment. Do you understand?" They shake, like men in their rage, and another part of the world falls down, and the Admiral leaves.

And Galen Tyrol sits at the bar, finally, after nearly barfing, almost hyperventilating, and the camera pulls back, back, back, until he's lost in the crowd, no longer the Chief, and a song plays that only he can hear.

MY PEOPLE HUMBLE PEOPLE WHO EXPECT / NOTHING
(Escape Velocity is attempted, but fails by wrongful application of Force.)

"Of course you have authority over emergency measures," quibbles the Caprican Delegate, "But you bulldozed this through after the session was closed!" The Quorum murmurs in agreement. And the President speaks quietly in response. "It's a crowd-control measure. I also authorized the repair of a cargo elevator. Do you want to talk about that too?"

I don't think her hairstyle is really that much like Cain's, even though she's been speeding toward the Cavil place; I think if she wore it with a lovely gold kimono dress, she could be the spitting image of a woman running through the Kobol Opera House, arms stretched out toward the shape of things to come. I think even if nobody knows it, Laura's wearing a reference to revelation. I almost think it could be a private joke, between Laura and herself. As long as I am the dying leader, I will look out here the way I do in there. Human psychology is based on projection.

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Battlestar Galactica

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