I read a Sci-Fi news blog sort of thingie in the mornings, along with a Very few others, and last night a post on the sci-fi one sort of bent me out of shape a bit, so I posted a rejoinder which I thought was intelligent, non-inflammatory, and on point. Apparently the natives hiding in the darks of their mom's basements surfaced from their Mountain Dews and Cheetos bags long enough to give me the verbal barrage that I so richly deserved for daring to disagree with the blog moderator, then they burrowed back down into their online RPGs.
So, for the record, let me say this--
-- Sci-Fi Channel's Battlestar Galactica SUCKS. On ice. It's a poor adaptation of a weak original. MOST of their programming sucks.
-- The internet is a haven for children to hide behind their mother's skirts and snipe.
-- The emperor is wearing no clothes, you'll have to get over me saying it because it's true, and one day you'll see it.
-- Yes, Virginia, we're all allowed our opinions, unfortunately, and even if it's incredibly lame I respect your right to have one, even if you don't know how to properly use it.
On the fun side, last night I dreamed that our local highway out here had all been paved in white industrial tiles, walled-in with huge windows and turned into an airport concourse while at the sametime being a Target superstore, and I had to catch a friend of mine (Levi, for those of you who know him) who was dressed like a clown and who was racing toward the airplane we both had to catch, and the short f**ker was beating me because I had to push a Target cart in front of me, too. All so we could catch a flight to a location that was more or less about 500 yards on the other side of the airport, but could not be reached by regular ground transport for some esoteric reason that only my overheated mind could imagine.
Of all the friends I've lost, I miss my sanity the most.