4.27.04: Sometimes the Boob Tube Makes Me Cry ‹ Blog

Sir, Teal’c has proven his loyalty to us countless times, don’t you think we should do the same?
Sam to Gen. Hammond, Stargate: SG-1

Sometimes the Boob Tube Makes Me Cry

4.27.04

You can probably feel the bad vibes jumping out at you from your computer screen right now, and I sincerely apologize for that. I am angry at the world for many reasons right now, but the main reason (well, the current main reason) is Stargate: Atlantis. In case I haven’t mentioned it before, I love Stargate: SG-1. Stargate: SG-1 is my secret Saturday lover, and I watch it every single Saturday afternoon on our fuzzy-screened TV and I get so into it that by the time my husband gets home there are only fifteen minutes of show left and my husband says hello and tries to give me a hug but I shove him out of my line of vision and scream at him to STEP AWAY FROM THE TV BECAUSE THEY MIGHT ALL DIE WHILE YOU’RE HUGGING ME. And if they’re all gonna die, I sure as hell want to watch.

And then, just when my little lover-show and I were starting to think about the DVD commitment, my lover-show’s evil twin sister appears out of nowhere and is all Watch me! I’m better!, and I’m all Get off the Stargate message boards, beeyatch! You are not worthy! But Stargate: Atlantis hooks her long red bitch-claws into me and drags me over to her official promotional site, and then she slaps duct-tape over my mouth and makes me look at promotional photos. The team leader has boy-band hair! I shriek into the duct-tape, tears rolling down my cheeks. That is just not right! But the evil twin sister show is relentless, and the little pop-up windows keep coming and coming like bullets, little badly-designed bullets of sci-fi sludge.

When I finally fight my way free of the horror and close the browser window, I’m left feeling stunned and betrayed. I knew this day was coming; they wouldn’t have called the show Stargate: SG-1 if they intended it to be the only Stargate show ever made. But the inevitability doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. I’ll never leave you, Jack O’Neill! I sob, dripping snot and tears onto my keyboard. I’ll never leave the original team! Never! But one day, one terrible day, the original team will leave me, and I may be forced to turn to another for comfort.

Would you excuse me, please? I need to go blow up a production set.