Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Gran'pa Jack is back

You know, I'm not sure I can face another series of 24, which has just started here in England.

No, it's not the horrible statism, the mythical universe of competent intelligent government officers who care, the rampant government waste continually on show that no-one questions, the routine abuses of basic human rights, the corruption, the rage, the usual power pyramid of white men with white women bosses, with black men bossing them about, and (no doubt) a black woman at the top to tell the black men what to do, plus the endless intricate sub-plots and annoying red herrings.

If you couldn't face all of that and more, then you couldn't have watched the first 357 series of 24.

No. I just don't think I can be bothered any more.

One gets the feeling that Jack can't really be bothered, either, no matter what his daughter said in the garage.

Fly to LA, Jack, for God's sake. Just forget about it. I would.

Oh well. At least we get to see Starbuck again, rather remarkably dressed in almost exactly the same clothes she wore several thousand years ago when she landed on the Earth, though she's had some nanos strip off her tattoos. She really must be a robot, after all.

And so say all of us.

(Though if someone from Fox can write in and tell me that Number Six might pop up at some point too, then I'll hang on.)

Starbuck calling in a fighter wing to tackle the Cylons, in Galactica's CIC

Starbuck about to go on a CTU mission, in New York City

Random picture of a stray Cylon

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