Delusions of Adequacy

Back in November, I wrote about the fall of the Berlin Wall, and how that day felt to people who had grown up in the grip of the Cold War. It was a day when we felt history take a decisive, and welcome, turn toward the good of mankind.

Today is a day like that, as millions of Iraqis go to the polls to vote in their first free elections, the elections we promised them when we toppled Saddam Hussein.

It would be foolish to assume that the elections are going to instantly and permanently erase the problems of terrorism and ethnic and religious tension that exist in Iraq. But the elections are a necessary step on the road. Whether Iraq remains free is up to them. I am not particularly optimistic. But the chance has been given them, as was fitting; to paraphrase Benjamin Franklin's famous remark to Mrs. Powel in 1787, we have given them a republic, if they can keep it.

Just some quick initial thoughts upon finally getting to see the first two episodes of the new Battlestar Galactica series:

When I first heard about Sci-Fi's attempt to remake BSG, I was highly skeptical, to say the least. The advertised changes -- Starbuck and Lucifer, the high-ranking Cylon official tasked with the destruction of the Rag-Tag Fleet (you'll remember him from the original series as the cyborg Conehead who'd swallowed a disco ball) both morphing into women, along with Boomer... well, those changes alone seemed wrong.

So the miniseries, which was well-crafted and intense beyond all expectations I had, was a pleasant surprise. The changes worked. (And are for the best, really; another male incarnation of Starbuck as a chauvinist womanizer who dates both the commander's daughter and a Prostitute With a Heart of Gold(tm) would be a jarring anachronism in today's society, and would probably doom the show, while Katee Sackhoff's Starbuck exhibits a perfect balance of nails-hard competitiveness, sardonic humor, irreverence, and vulnerability -- you get the feeling she would've had little trouble putting the male Starbuck in his proper place. )

So my hopes for the series were high, given the way the mini delivered. And to judge from the first two episodes (already aired long ago in the UK), my hopes are to be fulfilled.

Series creator Ronald D. Moore has a blog on the show. Hopefully it'll be regularly updated... but not if blogging keeps him away from producing more of the terrifically good writing he's been doing for the show.

James Lileks, who apparently saw the shows back in November, probably puts it best:

Bottom line: Yes. Yes, indeed. It’s very good. Even the Courtney-Love-as-Starbuck thing works. The slogan for the show: “The World is Over.” And that’s exactly how it feels. The show has a pervasive ache to its tone and timbre, and I applaud all involved. I can only hope that the people behind the 80s version of “Buck Rogers” watch it and soil themselves in shame.

It's always been hard for me to think of where I'm currently living as "home," unless it happens to be under the same roof as my folks. I imagine this will change if and when I ever marry... but that doesn't seem to be an imminent threat at this point.

I'm "home," in the sense that I have returned to the domicile closest to my employment, the place I spend most nights of the year. But it is not home, and it never will be, unless a truly miraculous (or catastrophic) series of events ever occurs.

It's 2005, and I have promises to keep... the main one being, more blogging. I'm not sure exactly whom I'm promising this (or threatening with it). There certainly seem to be more or less continuous hits on this site even when it's not being updated regularly, so apparently there are at least a few people out there who are interested in what I have to say. Or who stumble in accidentally while searching for something worthwhile, and drift away mumbling imprecations in their utter disappointment. Somehow I bet the latter explanation is the one that holds in reality.

There are a couple of things, though, that I promised way back when I started this thing, and which I have yet to deliver upon. For one thing, I still owe Jill-Marie an explanation of the doctrines of grace, what most people call Calvinism, though that is a shorthand that carries some unwelcome baggage with it. For another... well, I can't think of another, except that as a member of the various blogrolls you see to the left (as of this writing), I feel genuine embarrassment at my lack of meaningful contribution to any of them.

Then again, since the election, I feel singularly uninterested in politics. The tsunami may change that... not because the suffering of millions of people in southern Asia and western Africa is any sort of suitable fodder for American politics (IT IS NOT ABOUT US), but because of... well... but even approaching the subject, I feel as if I'm being bathed with a film of offal. So maybe the politics of the response will not be commented upon here. Instead, I urge you to go to Samaritan's Purse and make a donation.

Or to World Vision.

Or, if you prefer not to give through Christian charities, there's always the Red Cross or the Red Crescent.

Someday, I have to learn to make my posts about ONE THING AT A TIME.