Call this post sentimental, but I must express my joy at once again having a quality sci-fi show in my life. Since the end of Next Generation there has been a void that I could never fully explain until last night. But there I sat, hand immobilized over the bag of Ruffles, beaming and babbling as the Cylons stepped out of the seventies and into our living room, and it all crystallized.
Perhaps it's something about the improbable sounds tv ships make in deep space. Or the semi-obscure, teched-out jargon that peppers conversation. Or the cast of familiar characters--frayed from overuse, but comfortable all the same. Perhaps it just brings me back to when I watched in toddler bemusement as my dad, barely into his twenties, babbled himself, and smoked over the Chee-tos in front of reruns of the original Star Trek.
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