Every Friday I thank my house gods for the new Battlestar Galactica. Battlestar Galactica has sexual tension, the obligatory scantily-clad blonde (but...she's that way for a REASON! A story-related reason!), smart dialogue, thought-provoking storylines (hmmm...the toasters have a blind faith in god and they go around killing people in the name of their destiny), story arcs worthy of Babylon 5, and events/actions have consequences.

It also allowed me to come to terms with my love/hate for Stargate. I adored the premise of both the movie and SG-1, the show. Early SG-1 had problems overridden by its strengths: our team exploring the galaxy, meeting new cultures, and fighting against a creepy, nightmare-worthy enemy. I still get goosebumps from the pilot when Amonet burrows into Sha'ure's body. Add to that a philosophy that violence was not just the wrong choice but it was the way to insure failure. I love the early seasons.

All that wasted potential, buried under the latter seasons' excesses of explosions, unbelievable character developments, the switch to character episodes instead of team, science so bad it's unwatchable, and plot holes that made my teeth hurt left me gnashing my teeth. I withdrew from the fandom - stopped reading the groups, the fanfic, the sites, and all.

BSG appeals to both of my brains. Jamie Bamber and the Dance of the One Tiny Towel permanently fused a few synapses in my brain stem.

I can finally face why I still watch SG-1: the pretty men. I no longer care how badly it's written because Michael Shanks is walking around in leather pants and getting naked once a season, Christopher Judge is wearing muscle tees, and Ben Browder is showing off his chest.