I must admit here that I'm one of the, what, eight people? Who actually really liked season 9 of SG-1, mostly because it was suddenly talking about mythology I actually studied! Yay! (Also, it was the SG-1 crack redux. calantha42 refers to it as the Fantasy Remix.) It was metameta. It started talking about mythology I could accurately nitpick, e.g. "hi, why are the Ori mimicking post-Christian Arthurian mythos?" Nothing makes me so happy as to be able to nitpick. Ask anyone. And at the same time again, I am a very forgiving viewer. Especially of this franchise. One could also say that I just have very low standards when it comes to genre fiction. I prefer to say that installed early and subjected to extensive training, my suspension of disbelief is as flexible as... as a very flexible thing. I don't know. Use your imaginations.
I am willing to let the writers take me wherever, exploding tumours notwithstanding. I like pretty much everybody, especially in Atlantis. (Okay, except Larrin. Why, why couldn't it have been Gina Torres?)
Anyway. Watching the last few special features from the SG-1 Complete Series box set with the roomie led to discussion of What If The Stargate Program Were Declassified (I was fairly doom-and-gloom, except if it was the Bartlett Administration doing the big reveal), which led to Who Would Be The Face Of The Program (Sam, Jack), which led to (as does everything) What Would This Hour Has 22 Minutes Say?
Before we knew it, we had Rick Mercer touring Atlantis and jumping off a balcony wearing the personal shield, stick fighting with Teyla, getting his ass kicked, and wearesuchenormousdorks.
(I also got a Very Good Idea to shore up the villains in the Scary Secret Uberfic, but I'm not going to tell you about that. Just, it's cool. Trust me.)
I am of the opinion that nothing would ever, ever in a million years approach the hilarity of Rodney being accosted by Marg: Princess Warrior on the CBC. NOTHING IN THE WORLD.
At least, I'm sure John would agree with me. ;)