valentine's day battlestar blog
Haters to the Left Airlock
I want to start off with a little explanation about myself. See, I have this love / hate relationship with critics. On the one hand, I completely understand why they are necessary, both for audiences and showrunners alike. However, I also think criticism is a huge problem. I don't mean literary criticism when I say "criticism"; I'm a huge fan of that, obviously. What I mean when I say "criticism," i.e, the profession of "critics", is when a person sits down in front of a TV show (or in front of a movie, etc.) with the sole purpose of tearing it to shreds and then seeing if they can put it back together again (this supposedly means it "works" and is "good TV"). It's taken me a while to figure out why, but I am completely and utterly opposed to the whole philosophy of thinking behind this. Sure, shit TV should know it's shit TV. BUT, there is a line. Now, if I haven't completely pissed you off, I'll explain more clearly in my "review," for lack of a better* word. I just wanted to warn you; I get kind of** upset about these things.
(SPOILERS!)
"Hell is other people."
Jean Paul Sartre, No Exit
Since we're talking about love,*** let's talk about what that means. Almost from the start of "No Exit," we receive confirmation about what many people -- including me -- have been speculating since the original reveal of the the Final Four: the Five are different than the Seven (now Eight -- Who was right about there being a 13th Cylon? Oh yeah, that was me), and what's more, the Five created the Eight. Ellen wakes up confused in her goo-bath, and besides that lovely Centurion, who is the first to greet her? Cavil, who is apparently the instigator behind almost everything bad-Cylon related on this show. We should have guessed this, and maybe some of us did, but I don't think any of us thought it would be this bad. Turns out Cavil was the first to be created and loved by Mama Ellen -- hence the #1 -- but he doesn't seem to have ever appreciated the gift. What smacked me in the face about this whole situation was that I never in a million years would have guessed that not only did Cavil know who the Final Five were, but he was the one who was responsible for their exile, and for the re-programming of the other six models (plus the essential murdering of Seven -- Daniel), so that they would not recognize their creators. What a whiny little bitch. I bet you one million dollars he instigated the destruction of the Colonies and pushed the other Cylons to destroy their parents, just as he was the instigator on New Caprica, preventing Boomer and Six from getting what they really wanted out of a Human / Cylon alliance.
I mean, I could probably talk for hours and hours about this character and his motivations and how he's affected both the storyline and the other characters in the most deep and horrible of ways, but I still wouldn't be any closer to truly understanding him. Hopefully that will change in the next couple of weeks, but for now I think it's enough to note that Cavil is a man -- yes, "man," no matter how much he wishes differently -- whose simultaneous ego and need for approval is complimented by a deep-seated general dissatisfaction -- no, abhorrence -- of his place in life. He longs for perfection and power, and though I don't know where his rage and unhappiness stems from, I do know that it makes him the ultimate critic. He abhors humanity and everything it stands for because he sees humanity as imperfect and flawed. If he believed in God, Cavil would be the guy praying every day to shuffle off this mortal coil and to shed his earthly trappings for the chance to be a more perfect being. But: he doesn't believe in God for two main reasons. One: if there were a God, then Cavil would have to acknowledge the importance of love and forgiveness, and of submission to something greater than himself. And two: Cavil wants to be a God, himself. "I've seen the building blocks of creation," he says, and he isn't impressed. This is a man so arrogant, so sure in his view of the world, clinical and mechanical and perfect, that he literally cannot comprehend any other view than his own.
The more I think about it, the more I think this episode is key not just expositionally, but thematically to the whole series. One of the main things I think "all of this has happened before and all of this will happen again" is implying is humanity's (and Cylon's) seemingly constant need for something or someone to be less important than they are. Hence: slaves and racism and the creation of the Cylons over and over and over again. Because if we can create something that is lower than us, definitively, then that means that we, too, are Gods. In his quest to destroy both sets of parents (the Five and human civilization), Cavil is most likely fulfilling that need to a greater degree than anyone before him ever has. Love and forgiveness mean almost nothing to him; he's an angry child who resents his life and his parents, and who believes that only in destroying them can he be proven right. But here's the kicker, even as he's doing this, he is waiting for the day that they will return to him so that he can show them how right he is; so that finally his mother will love him for who he is, instead of wanting him to be something he's not. That's why he killed Daniel, because Daniel was everything he wasn't: loving, compassionate, flawed . . . human. Alan Sepinwall (the critic -- although, I think he's a pretty fair one) wrote in his review:
"We find that Cavil is not only the first of the new skinjobs, but a cruel hybrid of the Biblical Cain (he murdered his brother, and his mother is fond of apples), Oedipus (has sex with his mother, though the eye he puts out belongs to his father) and a kind of Pinocchio in reverse."
He wants to be a real robot, Geppetto! The other kicker is that what he doesn't understand, what he could never really comprehend, is that Ellen does love him, fiercely and inexplicably, for exactly who he is. "Because I made you," she says. Love means approval to him. Love means being right. Love is a weakness, like his fleshy body. He doesn't understand that it's him who is the problem; that by never accepting himself and his place in the world (something he will never be able to change), he is the only one who is responsible for his misery. You guys, my brain hurts so bad from thinking about this, and I don't even know if it makes any sense, but it's so fucking fascinating that I have to stop right now, or I'll just go on and on.
So let's apply our Cavil lesson elsewhere. This whole episode is one giant ode to acceptance. From the tiniest of moments -- like Lee and Roslin accepting that they are no longer the twelve colonies, but a fleet, and adjusting their democracy accordingly -- we can see it. In Laura's admission that she can no longer function as President, and Lee's that he's the right man for the job. Or Adama accepting the reality of their situation, and allowing his ship to basically become a Cylon hybrid. (Galactica will be alive!!!) The Final Four, coming to accept who they are and what their roles have been in the last 2,000 years (notice the peace they receive in doing so). And even Kara, who is searching and searching for something to hold on to, and finding nothing. I wanted so badly for her to be the 8th Cylon -- I screamed it to the entire room -- but Kara's identity is for another day. Even after all of that, the one that affects me the most is Boomer.
Ever since New Caprica broke her spirit and she took up with Cavil, every glimpse of her on-screen has broken my heart just a little bit more. She loved being human; she loved Galactica and the fleet. She loved the Chief. And then, her body turned on her. She shot her Papadama right in the chest, and lost her life in the process. It's always the saddest when you see Athena and Boomer together. Athena was never brainwashed; she knew she was a Cylon from the start and willingly chose to become a human. Boomer never had that choice. And so, with the coming of Ellen, Boomer once again has hope. She latched onto Cavil like a sucker fish because he was sure and she thought he had all the answers about who she was and who she was supposed to be. Ellen undermines Cavil's brainwashing simply by her very existence. I created you, Ellen says, and I loved you. Ellen made Boomer to be flawed, to love passionately and be fiercely loyal. To be compassionate. These are not weaknesses; they are why I love you. Being a Cylon doesn't mean being a heartless machine; the first skinjobs arguably weren't even machines. That's not what being a Cylon means. Something created in love is meant to be loved and to love in return. Ellen is speaking in Boomer language, and so Boomer is free to rescue her and finally FINALLY return home to Galactica. (Chief is waiting.)
Some final thoughts about the episode itself. Knowing that the episode was inspired by Sartre's No Exit, in which three people are trapped in a room in Hell to torture each other with memory for all eternity, really helped me get a grip on the thinking behind it. I frickin' love Ellen Tigh, which is even more amazing than me loving Saul, because I hated her way worse back in her glory-slut days. In this new context, however, those days take on this weird sadness, like this gloriously luminous being was trapped in a tragically skanky body. Because she is: totally glorious. So sure of herself as Mama Cylon, so full of love for even Cavil. I loved the whole thing. The scene where Tigh and Caprica's baby kicks for the first time was so melty in my heart, you have no idea. It does not bode well for them. A few questions about the nature of the Cylons: what exactly makes you a Cylon? or Human? Because the way Sam explained it -- and I could be wrong about this -- it sounds like the original "Cylons" were nothing more than humans who had figured out a process called "organic memory transfer," which would effectively make them immortal. He mentions nothing about machines. Mo Ryan (a critic that I think is probably the most fair you can get) writes in her review of the episode:
"On Kobol, the humans and the 'gods' lived peacefully together (were the Cylons the gods? Were they viewed as gods because on Kobol, they were human beings who had figured out how to download themselves into new bodies or 'resurrect' themselves?) In any case, it appears that on Kobol, the humans first created the Cylons and perfected resurrection."
I think those are very interesting suggestions, and I'm pretty sure at least one of them is right. If this is right, then the way I figure it, the "Cylons" aka the 13th Tribe, who most likely only differed genetically enough to make the memory transfer possible (and hence be discovered as all-Cylon in "Sometimes a Great Notion") invented Cylon machines of their own accord, and were traveling to the colonies to warn their non-downloadable brothers not to do the same. Something else I find interesting about this scenario, as Sam tells it, is that the 13th Tribe gave up on the memory transfer and began reproducing genetically. Why would they do this? I don't really know, but I can guess that it has something to do with the troubles that our present day Cylon-heroes are facing as well. It also implies that while the Eight are different, more machine, than the Five, they are also more human than we previously thought, because they were essentially created by people with very human qualities, and not robots, as we have assumed for four years.
And two more things (I'm sorry this is so long -- no I'm not): Ron Moore says that each Cylon was created by the Five and the Centurions to represent specific aspects of humanity. (Cavil: anger, ego, Leoben: spirituality, scary intense, D'Anna: bitchy, determined, Simon: boring, Doral: slimy and kind of boring, Six: sexual and manipulative and also spiritual and loving and kind of compassionate if you give her time, Seven: ?, artistic, and Eight / Sharon: like practically everything.) As Cavil seems to be the big failure, and he was number one, and Sharon is the most "human" of all of them, it stands to reason that the later models have more human qualities. Six and Eight particularly, and more than likely, Seven, too. Which feeds in to my next theory. Two other things in this episode (Sam seeing all the Cylons and Kara glowing, and Ellen saying Seven was an artist) lead me to, independently on my own (I even shouted it to the room), believe that a Seven was Kara's father. We know that the Daniel-line was infected so that no more Sevens could ever download, but there's no way Cavil could have murdered all of them with his bare hands. Some had to have escaped and died naturally. We don't know Kara's father's name, but we do know that he was an extraordinary pianist, and his daughter is very artistic. Not to mention her unexplained ability to download into a new body and not even know about it. This would mean that Kara was the first hybrid, and maybe that makes it possible that she could have downloaded. (My sister told everyone in my apartment of her firm belief that Daniel is now Kara herself in a new girl-body, and as proof she offered: "She's kind of mannish, right?") I could be so totally wrong about this (I usually try not to theorize things, but this one just smacked me in the face, and it smacked some other people, too, so . . .) so don't shoot the messenger.
Now to the craziness and anger. People are complaining all over the internet about how this episode was exposition heavy (they have other complaints as well). I love exposition. I love it. To me, there is almost nothing more satisfying in a story than exposition done really well. This is why my favorite parts from Harry Potter feature Harry being told stories from the past, i.e. finding out Sirius was his godfather in Prisoner of Azkaban, and Dumbledore telling him about the prophecy in The Order of the Phoenix. Orson Scott Card does it really well, too, in Speaker for the Dead (God, I love that book). But anyway, the point is, I think people should understand that there is a time and a place for exposition, and that it's not always a BAD THING in capital letters because your professor told you so. It's only a BAD THING if your entire "story," like, consists of some asshole just telling people things. If handled properly, however, at the right point in the story (usually near the end) exposition can smack you across the face so hard with awesomeness that you will pee yourself from excitement and trying not to puke. That is what this episode did for me, because I let go of all my crap and just enjoyed it. Because that's the other thing, and why I started out this little thing I write with a diatribe about critics. Sometimes, when you're looking so hard and trying to dissect something, you miss the point. Just like Cavil, at a certain point in some stories (ones that have earned it, as this show certainly has), you have to check your ego at the door and learn to love it for what it is. I could sit and pull this episode apart line by line and I could probably find a thousand things that could have been done better, more to my liking, but that's not how I watch TV. That's not how I write about TV, especially not about TV I love. At a certain point you have to just sit back and suspend that part of yourself that needs to understand and dissect. I mean, sure it's flawed, but that's not the point. Do yourself a favor: stop asking yourself what's working and what's not, and start asking the show some questions: who are you, and what are you trying to say to me? Turn off your brain and just feel. I'm totally being dramatic here, but it's the same thing, right? Just love it like it wants to love you, Cavil. You'll be so much more happier, Cavil. LOVE THE FLAWS, CAVIL. I mean, that's what he needs to learn, right? Flaws are what make us human, lovable, worthy. Flaws make us unique. I mean, in my opinion, if you're not doing that, you're missing out on something special.
I may be speaking to a void. I mean, I don't know any critics, so basically this is a letter to no one, but I needed to say it. So thanks for listening, void. And remember, don't be a hater. It makes me sad.
*Somebody come up with a word for what I do.
**Understatement.
***This is an appropriate topic in oh so many ways.
I want to start off with a little explanation about myself. See, I have this love / hate relationship with critics. On the one hand, I completely understand why they are necessary, both for audiences and showrunners alike. However, I also think criticism is a huge problem. I don't mean literary criticism when I say "criticism"; I'm a huge fan of that, obviously. What I mean when I say "criticism," i.e, the profession of "critics", is when a person sits down in front of a TV show (or in front of a movie, etc.) with the sole purpose of tearing it to shreds and then seeing if they can put it back together again (this supposedly means it "works" and is "good TV"). It's taken me a while to figure out why, but I am completely and utterly opposed to the whole philosophy of thinking behind this. Sure, shit TV should know it's shit TV. BUT, there is a line. Now, if I haven't completely pissed you off, I'll explain more clearly in my "review," for lack of a better* word. I just wanted to warn you; I get kind of** upset about these things.
(SPOILERS!)
"Hell is other people."
Jean Paul Sartre, No Exit
Since we're talking about love,*** let's talk about what that means. Almost from the start of "No Exit," we receive confirmation about what many people -- including me -- have been speculating since the original reveal of the the Final Four: the Five are different than the Seven (now Eight -- Who was right about there being a 13th Cylon? Oh yeah, that was me), and what's more, the Five created the Eight. Ellen wakes up confused in her goo-bath, and besides that lovely Centurion, who is the first to greet her? Cavil, who is apparently the instigator behind almost everything bad-Cylon related on this show. We should have guessed this, and maybe some of us did, but I don't think any of us thought it would be this bad. Turns out Cavil was the first to be created and loved by Mama Ellen -- hence the #1 -- but he doesn't seem to have ever appreciated the gift. What smacked me in the face about this whole situation was that I never in a million years would have guessed that not only did Cavil know who the Final Five were, but he was the one who was responsible for their exile, and for the re-programming of the other six models (plus the essential murdering of Seven -- Daniel), so that they would not recognize their creators. What a whiny little bitch. I bet you one million dollars he instigated the destruction of the Colonies and pushed the other Cylons to destroy their parents, just as he was the instigator on New Caprica, preventing Boomer and Six from getting what they really wanted out of a Human / Cylon alliance.
I mean, I could probably talk for hours and hours about this character and his motivations and how he's affected both the storyline and the other characters in the most deep and horrible of ways, but I still wouldn't be any closer to truly understanding him. Hopefully that will change in the next couple of weeks, but for now I think it's enough to note that Cavil is a man -- yes, "man," no matter how much he wishes differently -- whose simultaneous ego and need for approval is complimented by a deep-seated general dissatisfaction -- no, abhorrence -- of his place in life. He longs for perfection and power, and though I don't know where his rage and unhappiness stems from, I do know that it makes him the ultimate critic. He abhors humanity and everything it stands for because he sees humanity as imperfect and flawed. If he believed in God, Cavil would be the guy praying every day to shuffle off this mortal coil and to shed his earthly trappings for the chance to be a more perfect being. But: he doesn't believe in God for two main reasons. One: if there were a God, then Cavil would have to acknowledge the importance of love and forgiveness, and of submission to something greater than himself. And two: Cavil wants to be a God, himself. "I've seen the building blocks of creation," he says, and he isn't impressed. This is a man so arrogant, so sure in his view of the world, clinical and mechanical and perfect, that he literally cannot comprehend any other view than his own.
The more I think about it, the more I think this episode is key not just expositionally, but thematically to the whole series. One of the main things I think "all of this has happened before and all of this will happen again" is implying is humanity's (and Cylon's) seemingly constant need for something or someone to be less important than they are. Hence: slaves and racism and the creation of the Cylons over and over and over again. Because if we can create something that is lower than us, definitively, then that means that we, too, are Gods. In his quest to destroy both sets of parents (the Five and human civilization), Cavil is most likely fulfilling that need to a greater degree than anyone before him ever has. Love and forgiveness mean almost nothing to him; he's an angry child who resents his life and his parents, and who believes that only in destroying them can he be proven right. But here's the kicker, even as he's doing this, he is waiting for the day that they will return to him so that he can show them how right he is; so that finally his mother will love him for who he is, instead of wanting him to be something he's not. That's why he killed Daniel, because Daniel was everything he wasn't: loving, compassionate, flawed . . . human. Alan Sepinwall (the critic -- although, I think he's a pretty fair one) wrote in his review:
"We find that Cavil is not only the first of the new skinjobs, but a cruel hybrid of the Biblical Cain (he murdered his brother, and his mother is fond of apples), Oedipus (has sex with his mother, though the eye he puts out belongs to his father) and a kind of Pinocchio in reverse."
He wants to be a real robot, Geppetto! The other kicker is that what he doesn't understand, what he could never really comprehend, is that Ellen does love him, fiercely and inexplicably, for exactly who he is. "Because I made you," she says. Love means approval to him. Love means being right. Love is a weakness, like his fleshy body. He doesn't understand that it's him who is the problem; that by never accepting himself and his place in the world (something he will never be able to change), he is the only one who is responsible for his misery. You guys, my brain hurts so bad from thinking about this, and I don't even know if it makes any sense, but it's so fucking fascinating that I have to stop right now, or I'll just go on and on.
So let's apply our Cavil lesson elsewhere. This whole episode is one giant ode to acceptance. From the tiniest of moments -- like Lee and Roslin accepting that they are no longer the twelve colonies, but a fleet, and adjusting their democracy accordingly -- we can see it. In Laura's admission that she can no longer function as President, and Lee's that he's the right man for the job. Or Adama accepting the reality of their situation, and allowing his ship to basically become a Cylon hybrid. (Galactica will be alive!!!) The Final Four, coming to accept who they are and what their roles have been in the last 2,000 years (notice the peace they receive in doing so). And even Kara, who is searching and searching for something to hold on to, and finding nothing. I wanted so badly for her to be the 8th Cylon -- I screamed it to the entire room -- but Kara's identity is for another day. Even after all of that, the one that affects me the most is Boomer.
Ever since New Caprica broke her spirit and she took up with Cavil, every glimpse of her on-screen has broken my heart just a little bit more. She loved being human; she loved Galactica and the fleet. She loved the Chief. And then, her body turned on her. She shot her Papadama right in the chest, and lost her life in the process. It's always the saddest when you see Athena and Boomer together. Athena was never brainwashed; she knew she was a Cylon from the start and willingly chose to become a human. Boomer never had that choice. And so, with the coming of Ellen, Boomer once again has hope. She latched onto Cavil like a sucker fish because he was sure and she thought he had all the answers about who she was and who she was supposed to be. Ellen undermines Cavil's brainwashing simply by her very existence. I created you, Ellen says, and I loved you. Ellen made Boomer to be flawed, to love passionately and be fiercely loyal. To be compassionate. These are not weaknesses; they are why I love you. Being a Cylon doesn't mean being a heartless machine; the first skinjobs arguably weren't even machines. That's not what being a Cylon means. Something created in love is meant to be loved and to love in return. Ellen is speaking in Boomer language, and so Boomer is free to rescue her and finally FINALLY return home to Galactica. (Chief is waiting.)
Some final thoughts about the episode itself. Knowing that the episode was inspired by Sartre's No Exit, in which three people are trapped in a room in Hell to torture each other with memory for all eternity, really helped me get a grip on the thinking behind it. I frickin' love Ellen Tigh, which is even more amazing than me loving Saul, because I hated her way worse back in her glory-slut days. In this new context, however, those days take on this weird sadness, like this gloriously luminous being was trapped in a tragically skanky body. Because she is: totally glorious. So sure of herself as Mama Cylon, so full of love for even Cavil. I loved the whole thing. The scene where Tigh and Caprica's baby kicks for the first time was so melty in my heart, you have no idea. It does not bode well for them. A few questions about the nature of the Cylons: what exactly makes you a Cylon? or Human? Because the way Sam explained it -- and I could be wrong about this -- it sounds like the original "Cylons" were nothing more than humans who had figured out a process called "organic memory transfer," which would effectively make them immortal. He mentions nothing about machines. Mo Ryan (a critic that I think is probably the most fair you can get) writes in her review of the episode:
"On Kobol, the humans and the 'gods' lived peacefully together (were the Cylons the gods? Were they viewed as gods because on Kobol, they were human beings who had figured out how to download themselves into new bodies or 'resurrect' themselves?) In any case, it appears that on Kobol, the humans first created the Cylons and perfected resurrection."
I think those are very interesting suggestions, and I'm pretty sure at least one of them is right. If this is right, then the way I figure it, the "Cylons" aka the 13th Tribe, who most likely only differed genetically enough to make the memory transfer possible (and hence be discovered as all-Cylon in "Sometimes a Great Notion") invented Cylon machines of their own accord, and were traveling to the colonies to warn their non-downloadable brothers not to do the same. Something else I find interesting about this scenario, as Sam tells it, is that the 13th Tribe gave up on the memory transfer and began reproducing genetically. Why would they do this? I don't really know, but I can guess that it has something to do with the troubles that our present day Cylon-heroes are facing as well. It also implies that while the Eight are different, more machine, than the Five, they are also more human than we previously thought, because they were essentially created by people with very human qualities, and not robots, as we have assumed for four years.
And two more things (I'm sorry this is so long -- no I'm not): Ron Moore says that each Cylon was created by the Five and the Centurions to represent specific aspects of humanity. (Cavil: anger, ego, Leoben: spirituality, scary intense, D'Anna: bitchy, determined, Simon: boring, Doral: slimy and kind of boring, Six: sexual and manipulative and also spiritual and loving and kind of compassionate if you give her time, Seven: ?, artistic, and Eight / Sharon: like practically everything.) As Cavil seems to be the big failure, and he was number one, and Sharon is the most "human" of all of them, it stands to reason that the later models have more human qualities. Six and Eight particularly, and more than likely, Seven, too. Which feeds in to my next theory. Two other things in this episode (Sam seeing all the Cylons and Kara glowing, and Ellen saying Seven was an artist) lead me to, independently on my own (I even shouted it to the room), believe that a Seven was Kara's father. We know that the Daniel-line was infected so that no more Sevens could ever download, but there's no way Cavil could have murdered all of them with his bare hands. Some had to have escaped and died naturally. We don't know Kara's father's name, but we do know that he was an extraordinary pianist, and his daughter is very artistic. Not to mention her unexplained ability to download into a new body and not even know about it. This would mean that Kara was the first hybrid, and maybe that makes it possible that she could have downloaded. (My sister told everyone in my apartment of her firm belief that Daniel is now Kara herself in a new girl-body, and as proof she offered: "She's kind of mannish, right?") I could be so totally wrong about this (I usually try not to theorize things, but this one just smacked me in the face, and it smacked some other people, too, so . . .) so don't shoot the messenger.
Now to the craziness and anger. People are complaining all over the internet about how this episode was exposition heavy (they have other complaints as well). I love exposition. I love it. To me, there is almost nothing more satisfying in a story than exposition done really well. This is why my favorite parts from Harry Potter feature Harry being told stories from the past, i.e. finding out Sirius was his godfather in Prisoner of Azkaban, and Dumbledore telling him about the prophecy in The Order of the Phoenix. Orson Scott Card does it really well, too, in Speaker for the Dead (God, I love that book). But anyway, the point is, I think people should understand that there is a time and a place for exposition, and that it's not always a BAD THING in capital letters because your professor told you so. It's only a BAD THING if your entire "story," like, consists of some asshole just telling people things. If handled properly, however, at the right point in the story (usually near the end) exposition can smack you across the face so hard with awesomeness that you will pee yourself from excitement and trying not to puke. That is what this episode did for me, because I let go of all my crap and just enjoyed it. Because that's the other thing, and why I started out this little thing I write with a diatribe about critics. Sometimes, when you're looking so hard and trying to dissect something, you miss the point. Just like Cavil, at a certain point in some stories (ones that have earned it, as this show certainly has), you have to check your ego at the door and learn to love it for what it is. I could sit and pull this episode apart line by line and I could probably find a thousand things that could have been done better, more to my liking, but that's not how I watch TV. That's not how I write about TV, especially not about TV I love. At a certain point you have to just sit back and suspend that part of yourself that needs to understand and dissect. I mean, sure it's flawed, but that's not the point. Do yourself a favor: stop asking yourself what's working and what's not, and start asking the show some questions: who are you, and what are you trying to say to me? Turn off your brain and just feel. I'm totally being dramatic here, but it's the same thing, right? Just love it like it wants to love you, Cavil. You'll be so much more happier, Cavil. LOVE THE FLAWS, CAVIL. I mean, that's what he needs to learn, right? Flaws are what make us human, lovable, worthy. Flaws make us unique. I mean, in my opinion, if you're not doing that, you're missing out on something special.
I may be speaking to a void. I mean, I don't know any critics, so basically this is a letter to no one, but I needed to say it. So thanks for listening, void. And remember, don't be a hater. It makes me sad.
*Somebody come up with a word for what I do.
**Understatement.
***This is an appropriate topic in oh so many ways.