A very reflective, geeky, and sci-fi intensive weekend (all in a good way). Sadly, my friend E. bailed on our trip to SPX, which was disappointing, since it would have been a lovely crisp Saturday afternoon for a road-trip. I ended up not going at all—E.’s company was more important to me than the comics (I already attended one convention alone this summer) and there were no particular artists I wanted to see, having already missed the Tony Millionaire and Scott McCloud talks.

Instead I hung out with my roommate S. and watched Serenity. I was pleased—thrilled actually—to see that he not only enjoyed it (when we paused for a snack break 30 minutes in, he was saying, “I’m really digging this”), but also that he was able to follow the story without having had the benefit of watching the series it had sprung from, Firefly. Even better, he’s now hooked enough that we wants to see the original show. Shiny, another covert!

Speaking of converts…. Sometimes I’m way ahead of the curve (my love for Fountains of Wayne pre-“Stacy’s Mom,” my Yaris), sometimes I’m scandalously behind (I’m a DJ and Mac user who still doesn’t own an iPod, and I’ve never scene Lost or Veronica Mars). Until this weekend, I had only seen one episode of Battlestar Galactica. Thanks to an impromptu gathering on Friday, I’m now caught up on this season’s new episodes and am debating going back to Season One.

Firefly never got past its first season, of course. It had the misfortune of being a great TV serial released just before network suits awoke to the changing role of TV as advertisement for the DVD—in fact, its success on DVD, along with The Family Guy’s, helped cause that very awakening. So it was sometimes painful for me to see how much BSG owed FF, especially in terms of the purposefully shaky camera work during ship battle scenes (the lens going in and out of focus, the frame losing and regaining the ship, purposefully advertising the presence of a “camera operator” to give it a verité feel). BSG learned well what FF discovered and what most directors have yet to learn: digital can make the world too clear, and that muddiness and fuzziness have a texture our eye accepts far more trustingly than super-clarity.

There are other connections between the two series as well—among them the construction of family, the search for or building of Earths old and new, and the role of faith. Serenity was also a very clear rebuke of neoconservatism (and, to a lesser extent, certain pieties of the Left as well). Serenity warned us that the attempt to forcibly make people better was futile and self-corrupting. Similarly, in a recent City Paper article Ian Grey writes, “Battlestar Galactica, meanwhile, is the show future media scholars will reference when trying to figure out what the hell was up with America after Sept. 11.” Having not seen Season One, I’m sure I’m missing numerous examples supporting that argument, but I certainly couldn’t miss the debate about suicide bombing in the few episodes I have seen. By making humans the occupied species, BSG wickedly puts us in the viewpoint of, and may even make us sympathetic with, the bombers. It’s an exercise in understanding the worldview of many of America’s enemies that no CNN talking head has seen fit to do. Meanwhile, the Cylons debate combating an insurgency—less force or more? What is strength? What is cooperation and what is collaboration?

So watch Firefly to understand the power of family, freedom, wit, and humor. Watch Serenity to see an indictment of the thinking leading to the war in Iraq. And watch BSG to see played out the agonizing drama of what to do now that we’re there, and the desperate, thrashing struggle to find a way out.

Speaking of pink hair…

By now you all know that YouTube is doing for video what Napster did for music. And since we’re in an age of pastiche, a lot of YouTube consists of video mashups. Some are strictly video, like the dead-on Brokeback to the Future trailer, but many are fan-produced music videos. Anime music videos (AMVs) seem to have started the trend, but everybody’s doing it now. Some of them are good, others decidedly not.

One of my current bizarre obsessions is the music from the kids’ show Lazy Town (on the Web here and on Wikipedia here. (I stress “the music” because too much watching of the following videos will risk earning you a “dirty old man” label for reasons that will become adorably but disturbingly apparent.) All I can say is never before has baking a cake had such a note-perfect pop sensibility. Neither has dancing for the sake of dancing, for that matter.

Since LT’s songs are so polished, any fan vid involving the series has to be a cut above the rest. This version of “Little Butterfly” manages to do so nicely.

(By the way, LT is popular in several countries (it’s out of Iceland originally) so you can probably find versions of the songs in your favorite language—like Deborah’s beloved German here and here.)

Not into cake? Then let’s make a pie! U. Maryland and WMUC’s own The Tasty Habits play scrumptious tunes about pie, sleepovers, and that song the ripped off from The Cure. See Dan, Dean, and their drum machine tonight (Friday 10/13 at College Park) and often in the D.C. area.

One of the unfortunate surprises of having my hobby turn into a second career is that, having joined the musiopopcultural complex, I no longer seem to have the time to comment on it. Nevertheless, I’m attempting to dive back in for the good of Ed and you fine readers.

And what better way to start than with Lily Allen? Big in the U.K. this summer, she’s a fresh voice for folks like me who like a good accent but (blasphemy!) never warmed to The Streets. Her album Alright, Still is a pleasure, especially early on. “Smile” is a fun look back at a good-riddance ex. “Knock ’Em Out” a nice dig at the over-friendlies of the bar scene. “LDN” (this entry’s Track You Should Be Listening To Right Now) is an interesting horn-filled homage to London whose full meaning is made clear that is best experienced in YouTube form. And given that most DW readers are coming to terms with our rapidly encroaching adulthoods, “Everything’s Just Wonderful”’s take on mortgages will likely be appreciated.

The album falters later on…too many tough girl songs that end up being way too chav for my taste. (Yes, I’m being classist. In this case I think it’s earned. Confidential to both Lily and the high schools girls who loiter in my ’hood: wearing hoop earrings that big makes you deserving of whatever elitist scorn may come your way, and were you ever to get into the fights you seem to always have the ’tude for, the first thing any assailant would do would be to rip them out of your ears. ’Kay?)

Despite these minor lapses, Alright, Still is more than worth it. Plus, Allen doesn’t yet seem to have really hit the states, so you’ll be the envy of your music snob friends when you spin it at parties.

Her website is here and her Wikipedia entry is here. And yay for pink hair and bunny ears.