battlestar galactica unfolds towards all it created, towards all spirit. courtroom speeches like ayn rand's heros with heavier hearts. lee adama is an honest man - unlike his grandfather. and some hear the walls' sitar, to find staunch string lines losing their cotton grips into something increasingly confusing to their reimagination. the hour is getting ... still far from 2008. and far from 1993, 20 years from 1988's 21 years from 1967. the jester put its notes and words cylon close so jimi's prayers dreamed the late hour's rocknroll collisions into that burning beast whose higgs did not decay. you may not know what is inside you. 40 years and two wars!! your memories? your views... as weapon x had cloudy ale instead of h1story. but you know what you do. what are you? amazing facts and new discoveries never before seen about yourself, you, can cover fear over your every glance. The Decay Rate Of Such A Superheavy Element Found A Road To U2. helter skelter was stolen back. colonial fleet? cylons of metal? cylons of flesh? all heading to earth and forgetting and remembering what they like to think they stand for. all along the watchtower... away from van diemen's land, deep beyond the skelter for living instead of ascension. "There Must Be Some Way Out Of Here," Said The Joker To The Thief. and the four men chopped down the joshua tree, and one of the men became the fly + macphisto + bono the father. the sitar of the walls was heard and not shied from, creating more of what was already there. colonel saul tigh hates his own flesh, despises his own life, but knows his duty will be always his true heart. wolverine 69 was published of the song. wolverine was always a weapon, turned into more of a weapon, and flooded by simulations sparkling over and through his thoughts, broken down by HIS proteins with their insistence memories are scars on that brain. (could the scarlet w have reawakened the song? the savage land remembered dimly as where it was learned, amplified then to WAKE!). the cylons remember the song! bear, b4t, boingo. they knew the song before it was ever heard by their ears. the radio? Jubilee listened to rattle n hum in the savage land, and the story grew the songs' words. her walkman told me only a hint of words and an awkwardly-pencilled rhythm, but it was there in my ears before carrie realized they were all cylons and played me u2's divine comedy, itself homage and daughter of the implied notes in logan's arms. battlestar galactica! colonials! what is a cylon? but you are awake and no longer know who you are, but you still twirl and need as you did always. the episode was written by mark verheiden. a gift of revolution and playful apocalypse, to dance and burn where fear and guilt had built the bunker tomb and healing long since caved in. do you really hate them? so much that when you are them, a thing would change? bone instead of metal was another grotesque cheering for too much confusion here, chasing him into the forest with his mind feral yet again -- and still logan remained the best he is at what he does. was it what he hated? no. but the song flows throughout, and is of the bucket itself, whispering... the words are understood when i can't make them out with ears of flesh (is it flesh?). to your station, you who are you! made of this, made of that. many names for the same thing? heterogeny was too confusing? spirit. CYLON! you strongly added to the definition of "human" - belligerent, and with hate for the enemy... what is earth?

birthright revealed as ALL! along the watchtower (watching for....? ...the thief... to be stolen by it )