Watch this space

Playing catch up isn’t as much fun as, say, playing Russian roulette with the cast of Hollyoaks. Provided you don’t lose.

Once again I was a bit slow on the uptake, but I’ve since been binging my face off on space crack. Now I’m only 10 episodes from the end of the reimagined Battlestar Galactica. Which is good because I still have 10 episodes to watch. But bad because I still have 10 episodes left to watch.

I can’t amble through the internet looking for clues because everyone already knows what’s happened and seem to take delight out of ruining it for me. Even Obama wants to spoil it. Bastards. All of you.

Then there’s the pricks that haven’t bothered watching it yet. What is your problem? You’re falling over yourselves to pour The Wire through your eyeballs just because a couple of Guardian journalists won’t shut up about it. But because BSG is all about robots and space and shit you can’t bring yourselves to watch it. A billion hours of televisual stimuli isn’t healthy whatever it is, but there’s more nutritional value in one hit of BSG than an entire season of 24, for example.

I don’t know much about TV programmes to be honest but I have seen Taxi To The Dark Side, from which I can only conclude that 24 is some form of training video for US interrogation operatives somehow unleashed on the world. BSG meanwhile managed to critique the Bush administration exactly by being about robots and space and shit. It's close but not too close, so they could get away with it.

I have some issues with BSG. Some people (Wired, particularly) have commented on its strong female characters. I can’t help thinking this is misleading. Where the male leads appear complex, especially as the programme hurtles anxiously towards its climax, the women just come across as nutbags. Especially frakking Starbuck.

Also, why are the only black people all fat god-fearing simpletons?

And why don’t more doctors smoke big fat cigars when they treat patients? Oh. Right.

Otherwise, from the distance of space (which tastes of raspberries, btw), this series sticks a mirror right in the face of humanity and dares it to peer in, take a long look at itself and draw a deep breath. Look at all the greasy blackheads and congealed sandwich crumbs! Look at them!

On reflection, even IKEA might be ahead of me on that idea.