The Google Reader Apocalypse: First Reactions

Last night, Google announced they are going to "retire" the beloved Google Reader, to narrow their focus to products like fucking goggles and self-driving cars.

A feelings collage of my initial reactions:

 

 From some corners of the internet, there was a collective shrug. "What's Google Reader?" To those people, I ask:

HOW THE HELL DO YOU READ THE INTERNET?

No, seriously. How do you read information on the web? Do you just visit your favorite sites again and again, clicking on the "refresh" button waiting for new content to magically appear? Do you go through your bookmarks on some kind of regular rotation, hoping you catch what your favorite author or blogger has written? What about on your mobile device? How do you keep up to date with info on those? Do you actually visit websites on those tiny screens and pinch and scroll to read a post?

I just can't fathom that.

To understand how awful this development is, I should probably share exactly how I use RSS feeds and Reader. Google Reader is my home base.

I subscribe to things I want to read. As noted above, I have 104 subscriptions that I read on a daily basis. Sometimes, it's to a entire site with a narrow focus (like something on UGA football). Other times, it's to a particular author on a site where I don't want the rest of the content on that site (like Alan Sepinwall at HitFix). Some feeds publish 30+ items a day. Some publish once a week. Regardless of the schedule, when they do publish something, it shows up in Reader. 

Then I have choices. I can read it then, inline inside Reader. I can click it and make the post expand to a full tab on the author's site. I can mark it read. I can "star" it and save it for later. It's great, and I feel completely in control of my news feed.

I keep a tab for Reader open and locked in my browser 24/7.  I'm constantly aware of it, and that's my primary method of consuming news and content.

I also group feeds in folders. There are folders for "General Sports" and "Dawg Sports." There is a catch-all "Entertainment" folder, and one for my preferred, top shelf TV writers. There's one for "Tech & Toys" and one for "Marketing." And so on. All organized to suit my individual tastes, and coming to me without my having to go click around and find it.

Also, the primary collection of all these feeds (now housed and operated by Google) not only comes into Reader, it also feeds third party apps, such as those I use on my iDevices. Personally, I prefer Reeder. Different people use different apps, but the scary thing is, most are all fed by the Google monster, which is going away in a few short months.

I was happy to see "Google Reader" trending on twitter last night along with widespread web outrage over the company's decision to sunset one of their very useful and utilitarian products. (Yes, we all like GMail and search and maps -- but who the hell uses their social network?)

Look, this is Day One of the death march towards July 1. So my complete panic and freakout may be premature. Google may change their mind. Someone may come up with a seamless way to transition. Someone may create a tool that functions exactly like Reader. Surely folks are ready to step into the void.

Last night, I investigated several alternatives. Everyone's needs are different, but mine are basically:

• Keep all my feeds flowing, without interruption and with minimum hassle, now and beyond July 1.
• Provide the ability to keep my folders/groups of feeds.
• Give me the chance to easily "mark as read" in a variety of ways: an individual item, all the items in a folder/group, or even all the items that are current in all my folders/groups.
• The ability to "star" or "save for later" an item.
• The ability to easily manage feeds (delete them, put them in folders, etc.).
• The ability to easily add a new feed when I'm on an interesting new page or blog.
• The ability of all my feeds to easily flow into whatever app I'm using on my iPhone and iPad, and synchronize back (reads, stars, etc.) so that I can seamlessly pick up where I left off when I pick up a new device.
• Have different reading modes: seeing only headlines so you can skim, or being able to expand with full content and graphics.
• And hopefully, be visually interesting.

First, a quick reaction from IOS app Reeder:

So that's cool.

I also investigated a bunch of other options. Lifehacker published a list of alternatives. So did a variety of other publications. I imagine as the crisis continues (seriously, surely this deserves more attention than all this Pope nonsense), we'll get a slew of pieces on just what those of us with the ReaderFever should do next.

I did pick up one app to beta test alongside my current Reader/Reeder set up: Feedly. The primary reason I picked this one, is that it promises a smooth and seamless transition of all your current feeds to their service: now and when Reader goes dark. For more on that, see this post:

Google announced today that they will be shutting down Google Reader. This is something we have been expecting for some time: We have been working on a project called Normandy which is a feedly clone of the Google Reader API – running on Google App Engine. When Google Reader shuts down, feedly will seamlessly transition to the Normandy back end. So if you are a Google Reader user and using feedly, you are covered: the transition will be seamless.

The web version installs an add-on to your browser (I use Firefox. There's one for Chrome, too). It takes you to a page with all your stuff. Visually, it's quite different at first, and will take some getting used to. Same for the IOS app (which is free, and for both iPad and iPhone). There are options and settings which allow for customization, but I'm still exploring those. It's very clean and pretty:

What I most appreciated is that they seem eager to welcome new users, and make things as easy as possible. (Also important -- if you currently use Google Reader, the addition of your account to Feedly couldn't be any simpler, and they assure us that via their cloning of the Reader API, we won't even notice an interruption in service once Reader goes dark). They've also published a handy guide for new users (though eventually I'll want a more detailed and comprehensive "how to"):

Tips for Google Reader users migrating to feedly

Posted on March 14, 2013 by @feedly

Welcome to all the new Google Reader users migrating to feedly. Here are some tips on how to adapt to the feedly desktop interface.

So for the next few weeks, I'm going to run both Reader and Feedly simultaneously to see how they work, and see if I can orient myself to a whole new world. Thus far, I'm pretty impressed with Feedly, and we'll see how they react to a flood of new users coming their way with very specific needs and wants. And I'm sure new RSS Champions will step into the void.

So what about y'all? Is Reader as much a part of your daily life as it is mine? Did you treat yesterday's news like the coming Apocalypse? Have you already experimented with some of the alternatives? Can we all take a deep breath and get through this together?

John Yossarian probably had Comcast

I'm moving next month. Not really a big deal, since I'm only moving from one apartment in this complex to another (to facilitate satellite dish reception - which is another story entirely). Being the OCD type that I am, I have checklists upon checklists to make sure everything goes off without a hitch, people show up when they should, and all the incoming deliveries and missives go to the proper place at the proper time. (You know you're probably too focused on the details when you have action items on your list revolving around notifying all the pizza joints of your new address. Either that, or you're just lazy, sad and addicted to fast food. I'd like to think I appreciate the details).

Anyway, I spent the weekend working through items on my list, updating online forms and placing calls to various utilities to make sure things are set up for an event that won't take place for at least another 30 days. Everyone was great, and appreciated the heads up. Everyone, that is, except for motherfucking Comcast.

Now, I don't even have cable service with them. I pray to my lord and god DirecTV. (I did suffer though Comcast's cable service, and their almost comically inept and user-humping "DVR," for a few months during a temp living stint a couple of years ago). I use them for telephone service (which I don't even use, really) and most importantly, for my internet connection. My lifeline to the world, and to you, dear readers. I have no problems with the throughput and uptime of the pipeline. It's been as reliable as other providers I've used in my past. No, my problem is with their customer service and facepalm-inducing procedural circuities.

Moving to a new place, in the same building, should be easy, right? I mean, it's an apartment complex. Everything is already wired. I've got the modem. Shouldn't I be able to just set up the new address/account, walk to the new place, plug the modem into the existing jack, and have them turn on the juice from their magical Master Control Program? Seems simple, right?

Oh no.

You have to schedule a service call, so someone can come do this for you. So I want to call well in advance of the move date, in order to get this appointment set up at the most convenient time for me. When I will be there, dealing with unpacking and getting the DirecTV set up, and then in one fell swoop, have everything exactly as it was in the previous place with a minimum of downtime and disruption. Since the two most important things in life are satellite TV and internet service, I called them first with plenty of lead time (well, the movers are important too, but without TV and webby goodness, I might as well carry items 100 yards one at a fucking time, ya know?). DirecTV? One call. All set. Comcast? Well, 3 calls and 2 internet chats later, it turns out there is someone living in my destination apartment that already has Comcast service. No shit. They're moving out, I'm moving in. Can I just schedule the visit from the technician for my "install," so I can make sure it happens when it's most convenient for me, THE PAYING CUSTOMER? Er, no. They have to verify that the person in the destination unit is actually turning off their service and moving. Which actually, is kinda logical on the surface, but when you think about it, how many nefarious schemers with a current account actually call Comcast more than a month in advance, and plan to have a technican come out to install a modem in a currently occupied apartment? Like I'm going to burst into some dude's apartment, gun in one hand, Comcast technician in tow, tell him that his internet is now mine, and I'll be squatting there surfing the web (and paying for it) until further notice? If they schedule the visit for my turn on -- just fucking schedule it - put it on a goddamned calendar -- they automatically disconnect the current occupant's internet service. What the fuck kind of procedure is that?

"Hey, I'd to set everything up in advance to make it easier for everyone, so can you please make sure to ass fuck BOTH of your paying customers? And make it as inconvenient and filled with hassles as possible? Thankyouverymuch."

So they, the oblivious corporate dildos, have to call the current occupant, confirm his move out and service disconnection date, then call me back and tell ME to call THEM back once his service is turned off, and only THEN can I actually schedule the appointment to have my service turned on, because that scheduling will actually result in his service being terminated.

What. The Fuck.

If you read about a killing spree in the area, just assume it's me. I would blog about it, but I doubt I'll have an internet connection from which to do so.

Nobody puts Tony Stark in a Corner!

From Pepper Potts Diary:



I bet Iron Monger wasn't in steerage:

I just got progressive lenses and it's like a free and constant acid trip

Last week, I went to the optometrist to get my eyes checked and pick out some new frames for my specs. I have astigmatism, and it's fairly mild. Without glasses, I can still read a good portion of text at any distance, and there is only a slight "fuzz" or "distortion" around objects.

My last RX, about 5 years ago, was pretty straightforward:

In technical terms, Sphere: (L) plano (R) plano, Cylinder (L) -2.00 (R) 1.50, Axis (L) 095 (R) 090, Add: (nothing in either).

My new prescription:

Sphere: (L) plano (R) -0.25, Cylinder (L) -2.75 (R) 1.75, Axis (L) 090 (R) 099, Add: +1.75 (both)

The big difference is that my old lenses were single vision. Just one "view" and everything looked the same, no matter which way I tilted my head or pointed my eyes. Everything through the glasses, even when viewed with peripheral vision, looked the same. It was pretty clear, and I wasn't sure I even needed that big of an adjustment on the RX. (I went mostly for the regular check up, and for the frames). If you look at the numbers, really, the major difference is that my left eye had gotten worse, and the addition of the "add" enhancement for near reading in the new RX.

So I go pick up my new specs today, and they look fabulous. Different style of frame for me, more comfortable, and I really like them.

Then I put them on.

Holy shit.

I felt like I just came off a weekend in Vegas with Hunter S. Thompson and went straight into a 5 day bender with the characters from Trainspotting. I've had acid trips that were more lucid and focused.

Yes, when I position my head properly, and look through the "proper" part of the lens, things seem clear and focused. More than with my previous lens and RX? Debatable. However, look the wrong way, or try to use my peripheral vision and things become muddled and disorienting. My first reaction is DO. NOT. WANT.

The folks at the vision center (and much of the online reading I've been doing about progressive lenses) say that it takes a good 3 or 4 days to completely adjust, and once you do, you will absolutely love the progressive lenses and wonder how you ever lived without them. Right now? I'm tempted to gouge my eyes out with a steak skewer and develop my other senses like Matt Murdock.

Whatever limitations there might have been with my previous RX and lenses, I didn't notice a lack of clarity and I was certainly used to -- and now massively appreciative of -- a consistency of image, no matter what my eyes or head might be doing.

I think I'll give them until Monday before deciding to go back and see what else can be done. (Different progressive lenses? Check the RX again? Pick a "best overall case" for single vision lens? Don't know).

Has anyone else who wears glasses been through this transition? Anyone else wear progressives? Is there light at the end of the tunnel? Am I overreacting? Should I just enjoy the hangover free trip, dude?

No fake sex for me. I'll just stick to the fake killing.

According to a report at Deadline Hollywood, actor Neal McDonough was fired from the upcoming ABC series Scoundrels because he refused to do intimate or sexual scenes of any kind.

There are a LOT of things wrong with this story.

First, his scenes were to be with Virginia Madsen, an Oscar nominated actress who is hot as hell. Huh?

Second, his objection was based on the fact that he is "a family man and a catholic." Huh? I won't get into the usual science and logic about myths and fairy tales and superstitions. But what in the name of a merkin does that have to do with "acting?" He's not carrying on an affair with Madsen, which just happens to be filmed. Or actually fucking her, therefore breaking his marriage vows, in front of a bunch of cameramen and PAs, in a bedroom which only has three walls and no ceilings. See, because just like that bedroom is pretend, and not real, so is the sex and intimacy. I doubt Scoundrels is a prime time remake of The Brown Bunny.

Third, while some might view McDonough's moral, family and religious objections as admirable, what's he's objecting to can be somewhat selective. Remember his last major TV role, as Dave Williams on Desperate Housewives? There, he strangled a dude and burned his body, starting a nightclub fire, which he later blamed on one of the Scavo's rugrats. He tried to shoot Katherine with a hunting rifle, and later attempted to strangle her. That plan didn't work, so he then set his sights on killing Susan's kid, MJ. So....to sum up: "fake sex" is verboten and objectionable. "Fake murder" of women and children? A-OK!

Take a look at some of Neal's other roles:

• He was in the catastrophically awful Linday Lohan "amputee stripper" movie!
• He was a serial killer in an awful Al Pacino flick.
• He was a casino owning meth dealer in the Walking Tall remake.

You get the idea. Those things are all fine and "moral," but pretending to make out with Virginia Madsen is where he draws the line.

Whenever McDonough popped up in a role, I always enjoyed his performances. He brought depth and intensity to projects like Minority Report, Band of Brothers and Boomtown. Now, when I see him, all I'll think is "fucking moron."

Also, this:

If you prick us, do we not bleed?

Anyone ever ordered a long sleeve, button-down shirt from Ralph Lauren online? Usually, I just pick up a dress shirt in a brick and mortar store, where I can try it on (and it would typically be or come on a hanger) but I've been more agoraphobic than normal lately. Plus, I know the exact thing I want, and the exact size, so why not have it delivered to my door?

Well, the shirts I ordered arrived today, and I pulled one out.Taking it out of the plastic wrap was no big deal. Nor were the usual tissue liners and cardboard inserts. But Holy Fucking Porcupines, there were a LOT of pins. Every damned corner, every fold, beside every button. There pins in places where even with an advanced degree in textile engineering I could not discern any possible function. I pulled them out, one by one, and lost count after twenty. They were like clowns pouring out of a Volkswagen. After 10 minutes of "unpackaging," I tried on the shirt....and OF COURSE I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder. Another pin! I carefully took it off, gave it another once over, and found 5 more. Seriously, is this really necessary? Is Ralph worried that the shirt might become sentient and try to escape the hermetically sealed plastic bag and cardboard bondage without 3 pounds of sharp steel holding it at bay? Or are these shirts marketed by the CIA to unobservant terrorists, who so want to blend into white collar America that they don the togs of a typical business dude and then walk through an airport metal detector only to get taken down when the excess pinnage sets off the alarm and brings a swarm of TSA agents to beat them into submission?

A word of advice: don't sell these shirts to hemophiliacs.

On the upside, if you are one of my enemies, and I have a voodoo doll in your image, watch the fuck out. I'm armed and dangerous.

The apocalypse is nigh

Fortunately, I've already made out a valid will. If you don't see a blog post for a while, someone break in, step over the rotting corpse, and give the cats a good home.

Ghost in the machine?

Weird. I woke up this morning to find that Firefox had developed a mind of its own. (Open the pod bay door, Hal!)

Everything was fine last night, as I took a few notes on Lost, watched the abominable finale of Life on Mars and went to bed. However, this morning, my browser had mysteriously restarted, leaving me with a plethora of tabs telling me that my various add-ons and extensions had been "installed." (of course, all these items have been installed for some time now. And this wasn't the usual "update" that takes place from time to time). Some settings, like bookmarks, FoxyTunes and No Squint, remained exactly as I had them previously. Other settings, like the items on and arrangement of my Firefox toolbar, Autofill information and Tabmix Plus options, were completely changed and restored to the defaults. Even my "home page" settings had vanished.

Not what you want to see before the first cup of java has brewed.

I searched through the Norton logs to see if there was some mysterious virus or intrusion, but everything checked out A-OK. I put everything back in place, because I'm OCD and can't live with that kind of organizational anarchy, but I still wonder WTF happened.

I'd hang myself. Except the noose would break.

What a fucking couple of days.

Wednesday, I go to a local lab to get a blood test, for an upcoming physical. Have all my paperwork, insurance card, everything is in order. You have to fast for 12 hours prior, so I don't eat dinner the night before, and only drink water. I wake up at the ass crack of dawn, even for me, to get to the lab before 6 AM, to be first in line (and so I can get back ASAP to my beloved smokes and java. Hmmmm. Wonder what that physical will reveal?). Wait until they open the doors, get first in line, wait another (inexplicable) 20 minutes to come up to the desk, and they tell me the Doc forgot to check the "reason" for the test on the front (all the tests to be taken were dutifully checked on the back of the form). I tell the automaton behind the desk that it's just for a regular old physical, and not any of the other exotic reasons listed. Seems logical that it would be "wellness." But no. This fucking drone says I have to come back, after getting the doc to check the form. I say let's call the doc. Of course the office isn't open at 6:20 AM. I say let's take the blood, you know what to test for (back of the form) and I'll have the doc call it in at 9 AM when his office opens. Nope, says the fucking Borg. More "debate" (me making logical points, her staring vacantly and continuing to say "no") ensues, and I leave in a thunderstorm of loud profanity that would make the cast of Scarface blush. So, I'm going to fast Sunday night, and try this bullshit all over again Monday morning. (The doc, cool dude that he is, just said in a phone call "check the 'wellness' box in black ink. And here's my cell phone, so they can call me at 6 AM if they have a problem Monday AM.")

I finally turned off the A/C in the apartment on Monday, when it got down in the 40s here. Of course, Wednesday, it got back up in the 70s, so I turn it back on. I hear it running, but I don't feel it getting cooler. I wake up at 5 AM Thursday in a pool of sweat, and it's like 78 in here. Apparently, the A/C isn't working now, and just blowing warm fucking air. When I get to work, I call the repair people, tell them of the EMERGENCY! and they say someone will come over that day. Well, no one shows up, I call to remind them again, they say someone will come over, no one does (again) and I spend the whole night boiling like a crawdad.

To top that off, last night, I have a major problem with my CrackBerry synching with my PC at home. I could recount about 12,000 words of all the troubles and travails, but needless to day, I spent 6 hours (!) on the phone (while suffocating in the sauna) with "elevated BlackBerry tech support" trying to resolve the problem, which consisted of downloading, deleting, uninstalling, reinstalling, rebooting and so much high-tech hackery I thought I was going to enter into the Matrix, free the human batteries and go on to make a really shitty third movie. I forgot to eat dinner, being on the phone until the wee hours.

This morning, I wake up (sweaty, and not for a good reason) for a cross town meeting at 5 AM. (It goes well). I come back home, and STILL NO GODDAMNED MAINTENANCE ON MY A/C. I work from home in the afternoon, call them again, and the dude finally shows up. Well, the unit is low on coolant, but something is frozen (if it's fucking frozen, then why do I feel as if I'm living in a kiln?) and they can't add the coolant until it thaws. On Monday. When they're back at work. (Oh, I'm so looking forward to Monday. Come home for the maintenance dude, AFTER fasting the night before, getting no java first thing in the morning and getting up at 5:30 to go visit my friends, the zombiefied dumbfucks at the lab. To get stuck with a needle). However, today, maintenance dude did leave a "portable A/C" unit. It's about 4 feet tall, and loud as hell (which reminds me of the humidifying units I had to have installed all over my house for two weeks, back when the white trash Jenna Jameson and clan did $70,000 worth of damage to my beautiful casa). And boy, it has the cooling power of dropping a single ice cube into a stadium cup full of whiskey. Oh, and did I mention that while all this was going on, I was on phone with crackberry support for ANOTHER 6 MOTHERFUCKING HOURS?! And I forgot to each lunch.

Well, here I am now, and the crackberry issue is finally *kinda* resolved. I ate a sandwich. I have a huge Crown and water beside me. And it's cooled down to a balmy 305 Kelvin. I think I've lost 8 pounds, so I guess that's good.

And best of all? You know what spurred all the crackberry software issues? This sweet bitch:


Yeah, baby. I'm BOLD.

What happens in the future, stays in the future.

Okay, thus far I've been on board with Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. Some eps have been better than others, but basically, I find the cast appealing, I was a fan of the movies and I've been able to overlook some of the inherent and obvious flaws (like why could Cameron act like a typical teen in the pilot, then suddenly resort to "robot behavior" immediately after with no idea how to relate to human beings? Or how does whipped up in a bathtub skin heal in a day or two, after being completely surgically sculpted to look like Garrett Dillahunt? Or does no one ever check the dogged and deadpan FBI agent's "to do list" while he's off pursuing a presumably off book and dead end case? Or how does a metal head travel through a time bubble when one of the Terminator rules is that nothing, unless completely encased in flesh, can make it through? And don't even get me started on the paradoxes associated with time travel storytelling). So those nitpicks aside, I've enjoyed my hour of Terminaty escape each Monday and played along.

However, last night, I watched Monday's ep and just scribbled down on a notepad "what the fuck?" Yeah, there were a few good moments. Yes, it was nice to get glimpses of the post-apocalyptic future. But:

• I couldn't tell who the hell was who in the future. The actors weren't different enough in look, dress and speech patterns to distinguish individually.
• What the hell was going on in the basement? There was some soothing music, and early 800 model terminators were dragging our resistance fighters down there, then bringing them back up. Were they being interrogated? Gang raped by models like Cameron? Forced to waltz with robots and compete in a horrific future version of Dancing With The Terminators? There wasn't enough set up on the front end, nor follow up on the back end, of the visits inside the room to create any suspense. Just a confused feeling of what the hell was that, and why are we wasting time on it?
• Why did Kyle Reese have the poorly photoshopped picture of Sarah and her dog BEFORE the resistance captured the station with the time machine? This is where paradoxes start to cause migraines. And even if the paradox doesn't come into play, why give it to him before he's been assigned and able to go back to meeting his baby's momma?
• Were we supposed to NOT know that Brian Austin Green shot Andy Goode? I mean, it was fairly obvious that he did last time, so why the big "reveal" at the end of the episode?
• And speaking of Andy Goode, what the fuck? So he's in the future with Reese, chained to a floor, and apologizing for causing judgment day? Not looking any older than he does in the "present" when he was trying to get in Sarah's pants (and then shot by Reese)? How did he cause judgment day, and go from chess playing robot inventing dork now, to captured and apologizing resistance fighter in the future? And then BACK AGAIN?

These aren't Lost-like questions that make the mind wonder and send you dashing off to wikipedia to look up philosophers and mythological references. Or pique your curiosity within the framework of what you already know or surmise could be possible. These are just "what the fuck?" questions that make you aghast at the plotting and execution.

Of course, I could have more faith in the producers and determine that these poorly played out scenarios will have a payoff that will be satisfying. But for a show that I like and watch, not love and obsess over, we can't have too many more of these bizarro plot points.

The oblique, and then there's JFC

Okay, I just watched last Sunday's John From Cincinnati episode "His Visit: Day Five" for the second time. And here's what I'm sure of:

• Cissy didn't scream every single line.
• She gave Butchie, er, a "hand" when she was on acid and he was a teenager, and that explains a lot about why they're both so fucked up.
• Bill is still fucked up about his wife's death, but he listens to the voice of his dead wife through John. And he listens to the voice of Zippy. The parrot.
• Tina's porn producer doesn't market the names of his films very well.
  
• Something's up with Cass's camera.
• Jennifer Grey doesn't look like Baby anymore, and Dickstein's certainly not putting her in the corner.
• Hi, Trixie from Deadwood!
• The dude in room 24 doesn't look so good. Anymore.
• There's a reason I hate tuna salad.

Okay, here's what I'm not so sure of:

• Everything else.

I've wrapped my noodle around labyrinth, mystifying plots before. Even when they don't add up to a lick of sense at the end (Hello! X-Files!). I've waded my way through curly-Q, elaborate Milchian language, shrouded by hidden motivations, before (Hello! Deadwood). But this show is borderline impenetrable. Yet I am utterly fascinated. Is it adding up to something I just can't seem to understand? Is it adding up to nothing? Am I alone in being confused? Or should I just take at face value that even the creator and writer doesn't know what the fuck it's about?

I read through the latest TWOP recap, and it's quite funny. Particularly amusing was the poll:

Weirdest-ass thing of the week?

1. There was this really long speech at the end of the show that was sort of unusual.
2. Butchie and Cissy's unfortunate family secret.
3. Freddy, the saxophone-playing drug kingpin.
4. The vaguely menacing making of tuna fish sandwiches.
5. John Monad, defying the space-time continuum.

And really, I can't pick one, though the speech thing, the "centerpiece" of the episode, is bewildering.

This is a train wreck (or masterpiece) of epic proportions, and I simply cannot believe this makes it air each week.

From the personal file: a bizarre dream

On the counter in my kitchen, I have a retro-looking, shiny toaster. Which I've personally used, uh, never. Beside it is the knife block, where I keep all my exquisite culinary instruments. Which I use, basically, to cut lemons and limes for drinks, sadly. (Or, would be handy if I happen to be in the kitchen when some dude breaks into my house wearing a black robe and a mask inspired by Edvard Munch).

Anyway, I had this ultra-realistic dream last night where I wander downstairs to grab a bottled water, and hear a muffled voice talking to me. I flip on a lamp, only to find that my shiny toaster is talking to me. The words are coming out of the slots on top, which are moving like lips. The toaster is suggesting that I grab one of the knives from the block. Because I always follow the advice of anthropomorphic household appliances, I pull the knife and out wander into the living room, where I find my two cats sitting on the top of an armchair looking at me like I'm crazy. Then I wake up. (And by the term "ultra-realistic," I meant that the dream seemed very real as I was dreaming it. Not that I find talking toasters to be realistic. But people have organized large scale economic and religious ponzi schemes around far less believable things, mind you).

After I woke up, I was still craving that bottled water, so I went downstairs and got one, and actually stared at my toaster for a while. Not surprisingly, no conversation ensued.

So have I been watching too much Battlestar Galactica? Was I coerced by toast as a child? Have I finally gone over the fucking edge? Did I have one whiskey too many last night? Am I a lunatic for actually sharing this on a blog? Uh, I'm not sure of the answers to any of those questions. If my toaster tells me tonight, I'll let you know.

41,400 Survivors. Minus 1

I don't even know what to say. I suppose I could blurt out "Oh my gods! You killed Starbuck! You Bastards!" Before trying to figure out where we're going to go from here, I'll just offer a few thoughts on what jumped out last night.

The opening sex scenes with Kara and Leoben were hot. It's a fine line I walk with enjoying that, because on one hand, it was well shot and very sexy. I can't help but wondering what that would be like. Then, on the other hand, my OCD takes over and I start obsessing about how long it would take to clean up all the paint off the floor and furniture. And get the paint out of your hair. And off your skin. And out of your clothes.

The SFX were incredible. The viper shots conveyed speed and the atmospheres were outstanding. BSG always does incredible things with clouds, and last night was no exception. The physical "maelstrom" itself was spooky and yet realistic. Also, some great new angles of the Galactica. And the final explosion of the viper was sad, but awesome to watch in a perverse roman candle way. Well done.

The acting, all around, was just top shelf. Obviously, it was Kara's episode and Katee Sackhoff just rocked the house. EJO's bewilderment and resignation in the CIC was also superb, as usual, and his breakdown at the end with the model ship was astonishing. And though I've long complained about the "Quandrangle of Doom," in those moments on the steps between Starbuck and Apollo, I bought the whole Kara/Lee relationship much more than I have through several angsty episodes of "Dawson's Planet."

The lights going out in that scene with Kara, Adama and Madame Prez was interesting foreshadowing. But of what, exactly? More on "lights" in a moment.

And what kind of a world do we live in where Starbuck is dead, and Cally is alive?

Okay, now to what it means and where "we" go from here.

Was there a "real" cylon heavy raider in the clouds or not? It was definitely left ambiguous, and mostly we were lead to believe that Starbuck was hallucinating it. But if so, what exactly cracked her windshield? The pressure? Something else? Hitting a pigeon? And towards the end, we see a shot from Lee's POV, and you can make out BOTH Kara's viper and the raider. Does this mean that it existed outside of Kara's mind? And if it was there all along, why didn't it signal the rest of the cylon fleet and bring basestars and raiders jumping in? Could it have been a cylon -- perhaps Leoben -- on a non-sanctioned mission? If it was Leoben, was he really there for Kara? After all, we heard several times that "Leoben is coming for you."

Did Kara somehow make it out of the explosion? We clearly saw she was reaching for the ejection seat lever. But we did not see her pull it. And if she did eject, could the raider have gotten to her before the pressure crushed her like a walnut? Or was the shot of the ejection seat more to establish that Kara had finally accepted her fate and became at peace with her decision to let go of her "earthly" torment? Also, thank the gods for TiVo, because I believe that if you pause the viper just before the explosion, you can see that the canopy is still intact, indicating that there was no ejection. Of course, it's also possible that Kara made it out through the shattering canopy windshields, or that this was a detail simply not handled by the SFX crew (and didn't assume people would freeze the scene and press their noses to their big screens) if indeed they are going to later go with the ejection theory.

Is there more to the "special destiny" than meets the eye? Could the "special destiny" mean Starbuck simply cracking up, accepting her "fate" and putting an end to her human suffering? Would the destiny have been teased that much, would they have brought up the points about "this has happened before" if it all just leads to going out in a flaming explosion on a random planet with a cloud that eerily resembled the symbol Kara has been doodling her whole life (but that was also in the temple that supposedly connects the way to Earth and give D'Anna a view of the final five cylons?). From a psychological standpoint, I completely understand the role it plays in Kara accepting (and even taking a hand in) her demise and being at peace with it. And I also understand the need to have "pointless" deaths to show the horror of war and inherent danger of the show's premise. But I think too much groundwork has been laid for this to be the end of the character, without some type of payoff down the road.

And was that really Leoben? Kara asks him this, and he replies "I never said I was." Was this just a form that was manifested by Kara's subconscious or whatever entity was in contact with her? ChipSix has often spoken to Gaius of being an "angel." Could this be the same type of entity or manifestation, taking the form of someone who could reach her or provoke an emotional response (much like Six does in Baltar's head?)

Could Starbuck be a cylon, or even a "final fiver?" If she was a cylon, then the premise of the events of "The Farm" would have to be further explored. Why would they treat one of their own in such a way, harvesting her ovaries, unless they didn't know amongst themselves she was a cylon. Or, perhaps she was a cylon-human hybrid that had developed reproductive capabilities (much like Sharon) that didn't realize her programming and had come to believe she was truly human. Or, if she was/is a final fiver, then maybe their "purpose" has yet to be explained and their intentions were less malevolent than those of the other 7 and the centurions -- an emissary or catalyst of peace between the cylons and the humans? Also pointing to the cylon theory are the "flashbacks" with Leoben and her mother. It's well established that one of the capabilities of the cylons is the power of "projection," making your environment be what you want, or need, it to be within the mind's eye. Were the events that Kara has experienced part of a "projection" or part of a real (and possibly repeating) history?

Lastly, could there be another plot element from the original Battlestar series? Moore and Eick have long said that there were only a small number of elements from the original story that would eventually find their way into this reimagining. One that was a fan favorite in both shows, and exceptionally well done in this incarnation, was the Pegasus and Admiral Cain. Could another possibly be the "ship of lights?" (If you recall from the original, there was a mysterious "ship of lights" that took Apollo from his apparent death to a place outside of normal time and space, and also featured a character named "Count Iblis"). The "lights out" scene mentioned previously could factor into this, as could the use of bright light at various times in the viper cockpit. (And this may be a stretch, but is Glen Larson, creator the original show, always listed as a consulting producer in every episode? I noticed it tonight, but honestly can't recall it being there every week. Hmmm). D'Anna also tried to bridge the gap between life and death (which was swathed in bright lights at various points) and seemed to apologize to "what" she found there and with the final five. What if it was someone they had fought, tortured and tried to kill?

I simply cannot believe that the character of Starbuck/Kara is gone for good. Shows often kill off a character, but ostensibly one of the leads? And for good? So what are we left with as options?

1. Kara is truly dead. And won't return except in some type of flashback.
2. Kara was saved, in her "human" form, by Leoben, or whomever was in the heavy raider. Assuming of course, it existed.
3. Kara is a cylon, and at some point, we'll see her wake up in a tub of goo.
4. Kara is a cylon final fiver, and will wake up in whatever form they do, and return to fulfill some type of "destiny."
5. Kara will return as a clone of Starbuck, created from the genetic material taken during the events of "The Farm."
6. The "ship of lights" from the original series will factor in somehow, and Kara will play a role.
7. Kara will exist, and return in some form, that plays into her talk of "see you on the other side" and in the bridge between "life and death."

Whatever way the producers take it, I'm along for the ride. A truly gripping, involving, moving and exhilarating hour of television. A+