Q: Joe Piscopo, Whoopi Goldberg, and Brent Spiner walk into a bar...
A: And Jacob never watched Star Trek again.
I don't think it's a coincidence that the commonly accepted favorite characters in the first two Star Trek series were, variously, a half-human/all-logic robotic person who went psycho whenever he got horny, and an actual robot guy who spent the entire thing trying to figure out basic human interaction, humor, sexuality, emotion. Or that Voyager's most intriguing relationship combined the two, with additional breasts everywhere. Or that the all-time most hated episode of Next Generation involved forty-five minutes of the red-headed doctor lady masturbating herself senseless on Planet Scotland. That's kind of intense, and more than a little intimidating coming out of nowhere, as it did. I thought it was awesome, but it turns out I was just waiting for Farscape. If Star Trek is a utopian civics lesson, in a surgical theatre, Farscape is anonymous sex. In a sewer.
Honestly that's the only thing I really like about this episode. There's been much talk of Battlestar bringing balance to the Force, as far as TV sci-fi, and I honestly think Battlestar's what happens when you combine the all-brain sterility of Star Trek with the no-brain chaos of Farscape: women who aren't just bodies and mommies, men who aren't just scientists and daddies. Character and plot working together. Not better, not worse, just more suited to me personally: Farscape is the drain that Star Trek runs into, so it can stay nice and clean. Case in point: this episode, which advances the sex-in-a-sewer mandate to no end, and explains Rygel once and for all at the same time.
Rygel paints a portrait in his room in a short little scene, snacking and humming to himself in a satisfied manner. Art? Ah. It's a painting of himself, crudely painted, and the last thing we hear is him lauding its perfection. It's about propaganda, the fact that nine times out of ten on this show, what gets attacked is self-image more than anything else. Not bodies being exploded, but the lies you tell yourself. Being force-fed your own ugliness so that you can burn it out. So you can see the precious stuff you didn't even know about because you were covering up with the lies.