Churning with Shame

Ok, for those of you that visited us last spring, you know full well the addiction with which the Churn Meister and Mistress were struggling: Star Trek - Enterprise.

We conquered that addiction by obtaining all four seasons and compressing them to our IPods so we can watch them when the shakes get too strong or when we start seeing bugs on the ceiling.

The addiction was largely in remission with only occasional relapses brought on by the loneliness of extended business trips and journeys by car.

Unfortunately, we must now confess to another, more insidious, addiction that has afflicted us.

Yes, we have both been hooked by the Battlestar Galactica TV series.

No, not the 1981 Lorne Greene smoke ten bales to get a small buzz TV series, but the much more concentrated take one hit and your hooked for life (or until your stash is wiped out and you're at the mercy of the United States Postal Service and the Netflix fulfillment center) concentrated smack, crack, boom and pop reproduction done by the Sci-Fi Channel.

Yes, all the plot devices derived from familiar theology are still there (it's still the 12 tribes, there is still a Quorum of the Twelve, yes, the gods came from Kobol, and yes etc.). However, Starbuck is now a woman, Cylons look like humans and I am going through withdrawals because we were up until 2am last night finishing off disc five of the first season and I am getting a little manic because the post isn't coming fast enough (Thank the Lords of Kobol that there is a Netflix distribution center in Omaha).

I won't provide a link because it can be (at times) two steps beyond PG-13, but you can watch season four episodes at: http://www.scifi.com/rewind/?sid=32850.

If you watch them, don't tell me what happens. It's going to take at least two weeks for Michelle and I to watch all 45 hours of seasons two and three (Unless, of course, we upgrade to the ten disks at a time membership plan and I stop going to work).

Well, the buzz is wearing off and I need to go find some brownies or Fritos, or something (maybe an old episode of Star Trek just to keep the edge off - you know, a little "hair of the dog").

Tchau!