Felix Gaeta sat up there in Colonial One and didn’t save her. Twenty-four hours a day, the only thing we know for sure is that he didn’t save her. It’s the one thing he did constantly for four months. And that’s not really the problem here, because Kara Thrace’s mother was a bad woman, and she hurt people smaller than herself. And Kara grew up and was so hard, and so fast, and so strong, and such a good Pilot and such a good shot that nobody could ever make her feel small again. And then somebody came along that was harder and faster and stronger than her, and she learned what it was like to be small again. Powerless. And they gave her a little Kacey, that looked just like her, as a little girl, and she told Kacey she was sorry, and that she loved her, and that she would always protect her. That she wouldn’t betray things or hurt people just because they were smaller than herself. And then they took Kacey away too, and she remembered that she was always going to be smaller than somebody. And now Gaeta’s on his knees, refusing to beg. So he needs to be smaller.
Spoilers, as always, within. Click “comments” at your own risk.
Small things: Chief wasn’t allowed to frack Boomer because she was his boss; he is allowed to be Cally’s boss, though he’s married to her. Just one more small sign of how every rule that used to matter doesn’t anymore. I never realized how much of Ellen’s bright shining lie was about color: she was the only one who wasn’t always wearing either a military uniform or something that would be appropriate at Burning Man, and her pink sweaters just didn’t register until today. When shirtless, ripped Lee showed up, I said to Mr. A, “Oh, Flory’s gonna love this.” I am feeling hugely shortchanged by the lack of Adama lately, so if we could swing an Adama-centric episode showing how he’s dealing, that’d be great, because he’s feeling a little cardboard to me lately. And the five Cylons we don’t talk about (again this show with the critical verb tenses) are creeping me the hell out. As well, with them, it’s so tactile: For a race of robots, they’re all about touch, and it’s how they enter their world.
Starbuck and Tigh, Starbuck and Tigh and Kat and Athena (!!!!) and Helo, and oh, dear God, this show cuts my heart out. It’s all about the story right now, isn’t it? The story you tell yourself in your head, about what you did and how it was better than what anybody else did, how it was harder and you were stronger, how you lost more or risked more, because that means you win, that means your pain has a purpose greater than somebody else’s. It’s the worst human lie of all: misery loves company. Miseryhates fracking company. Misery says, don’t come near me, you couldn’t possibly understand. It’s the worst human lie: we’re comforted by the idea that we’re not alone. Bullshit. We want to be alone, because if we’re the only ones who’ve ever been through it, then we get to deal however we want to: by pushing away an innocent kid that loves us, by telling our rescuers to go frack themselves, by pulling a gun on the man we love most in the world, and it’s all okay, we’re not any worse than anyone, we’re not assholes, we’re excused because we’re so special, so very hurt and so alone. Misery loves its own self and nothing more, and sometimes you love it back, love it more than you love Adama, who broke through the heavens and saved you when all you wanted was to die.
Which is the difference, I think, between Starbuck and Tigh. Starbuck wanted to be pulled back from the edge and was waiting for somebody to do it for her, and Anders wasn’t strong enough, and she’s not speaking to Lee who’s bad at this stuff anyway. She wanted a person who loved her enough to say frack you, and get out of my sight, because it takes some kind of love to be able to say that to someone, and there are lines in Adama’s face that are carved with knives and you could see all of that when he shoved her to the floor. She was waiting for him, and he came through for her, grab your gun and bring in the cat.
But Tigh wanted something different. Tigh’s always wanted to be Bill Adamaprecisely because he knows he can’t be, to be the guy who has the speeches made about him and the statue built to him and the sick thing is that even if Tigh GOT that, even if the fleet had Colonel Tigh Day and everybody drank to his honor, it wouldn’t be enough, because the thing about Tigh is not that he has a need that has to be met. It’s the wanting that defines him, not what it is he wants. It’s why he married Ellen: To be that guy in that story. It’s his whole story Adama was questioning in the rec room there, his whole reason for existence. In Tigh’s eyes, he was due his collapse, he’d known it was coming all along. You can’t take that away from somebody like that, because he’ll never love anything the way he loves his own damned martyrdom. Wrap your pain around you tight, tell yourself it excuses what you did, tell yourself it was all going to end like this anyway, because then you’re not responsible. The only thing worse than what happened to Tigh is the possibility that someday he could get over it. The only thing misery hates more than company is hope.