YOU
HAVE
NO
FUCKING
IDEA
HOW
MUCH
I
LOVE
EUROVISION
waves crash along the battered, lonely lighthouse
soldier on, soldier on
keep your heart close to the ground
In recent months, the Cylons have been recruiting and training humans in an attempt to establish a human police force. It is hard to think of anything more despicable than humans doing the dirty work of the Cylons, led to believe they were merely taking the civilian security out of the hands of the Cylons. And members of the human police have since become an extension of the Cylons’ corporeal authority. And while their names are kept deeply confidential, there is no question some of them are people we might least expect. Hundreds of us have been rounded up by the Cylons, held in detention, questioned, tortured. Others have simply vanished. In recent weeks, we’ve been gaining access to some very important documents from a source within Baltar’s administration. No one knows who this mysterious benefactor is. But he communicates with the insurgents by means of a secret signal. We pray every day for the men and women who risk their lives to fight the Cylons. They have everything to lose. And such little hope of something to gain. I pray they will not falter in the days ahead.
You’re a son-of-a-bitch, You know that? She bought her first new car and You hit her with a drunk driver. What, was that supposed to be funny? “You can’t conceive, nor can I, the appalling strangeness of the mercy of God,” says Graham Greene. I don’t know whose ass he was kissing there ‘cause I think You’re just vindictive.
What was Josh Lyman? A warning shot? That was my son. What did I ever do to Yours except praise His glory and praise His name? There’s a tropical storm that’s gaining speed and power. They say we haven’t had a storm this bad since You took out that tender ship of mine in the north Atlantic last year, 68 crew. Do You know what a tender ship does? Fixes the other ships. Doesn’t even carry guns, just goes around, fixes the other ships and delivers the mail, that’s all it can do. Gratias Tibi ago, domine.
Yes, I lied. It was a sin. I’ve committed many sins. Have I displeased You, You feckless thug? Three point eight million new jobs, that wasn’t good? Bailed out Mexico, increased foreign trade, 30 million new acres of land for conservation, put Mendoza on the bench, we’re not fighting a war, I’ve raised three children… that’s not enough to buy me out of the doghouse? Haec credam a deo pio? A deo iusto? A deo scito? Cruciatus in crucem! Tuus in terra servus nuntius fui officium perfeci. Cruciatus in crucem. Eas in crucem!
- President Josiah ‘Jed’ Bartlet, The West Wing 2x22 - Two Cathedrals [x]
Gillian Anderson’s panel
Q: you’re sitting in a coffeeshop with David Duchovny, and aliens have just landed, what do you talk about?
Gillian: “You know what, if the world is about to end, why don’t we just have sex?”
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