Joseph Mallozzi's Blog! (SPOILERS For All SG Shows and Dark Matter)

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July 3, 2009

Videos: Brie draws Lulu's attention, Lulu chased down like a dog, Brie vs Lulu Parts 1 and 2


The dogs dedicate today’s entry to Grant Imahara (http://twitter.com/grantimahara) and the rest of the gang at Mythbusters (http://dsc.discovery.com/fansites/my...thbusters.html).

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July 4, 2009

Photos: Mom, Sis, Lili, Felix, Fried Peppers, Crab Mousse, Girl in the Class by Jeffrey Ford


The guy sitting beside me was a talker, keen on engaging me as we sat there, waiting for the ground crew to sort out whatever issue had delayed us. A comment here, a question there. I was polite, but kept the discourse brief at the risk of initiating a five and a half hour back and forth complete with supporting pics of his kids and the recent family trip to the Grand Canyon. “Might be a while,”he said. I nodded thoughtfully and offered a non-committal “Hmmm” that could have been interpreted as agreement, distant rumination, or the onset of a stroke. According to the air hostess, we were delayed by “a minor mechanical problem”, something to do with the plane’s right engine. Minor? Engine? I remember reading somewhere that in the event of a catastrophic failure of an engine in flight – caused by, say, an errant flock of unfortunate geese – the other engine was more than capable of compensating for the loss. A plane only needed one engine. The other, it would seem, is just for show. Nevertheless, when the air hostess announced that the issue had been dealt with and we would be taking off soon, I couldn’t help but feel a tad uneasy. A feeling shared by a couple of my fellow passengers who stepped up to the front to voice their concerns. The pilot was on hand to reassure them however. “Believe me,”he said. “If there was something wrong with this plane and I thought it was dangerous to fly, I’d be the first one off.”

So we finally took off, an hour late. My chatty neighbor refocused his attention to the in-flight entertainment, spending the greater part of the trip coughing/chortling his way through Transformers. I read, finishing two books – Jed Mercurio’s incredibly engaging Ascent (described as “A Russian version of the Right Stuff”, it’s the type of book Stargate Exec. Producer Brad Wright would love), and Edmund Cooper’s The Overman Culture (an intriguing plot and an economy of language I enjoyed, but it suffers from acute blandis characteritis).

We, of course, got in late. Fortunately, I was able to skip the long wait at the baggage claim (last time I was in Montreal, I stood around for close to an hour), and head straight to Thrifty car rental where I was informed the car I’d reserved was unavailable but they could offer me either a hybrid (which would necessitate a twenty minute wait) or a Yaris (was this one of those cars that everyone in the old Soviet Union used to drive?) that was available immediately. I took the Yaris and motored off, winding my way through the perenially construction-plagued highway, the rain beating down on my economy glasnost sub-compact. I left sunny Vancouver for this? I rolled up my mother’s driveway some ten minutes later, parked, hopped out bags in tow, and was greeted by mom who warmly welcomed me back, then informed me: “You gained weight” before steering me into the kitchen for dinner: spare ribs, crab mousse, rapini, fried hot peppers, and two types of cheese. She made sure I had snapped a photo of everything before I could start eating.

After dinner, I walked around the house until I was able to pick up the faintest of wireless connections – my laptop has to be about chest-height and pressed up against a westward-facing window, which makes approving blog comments tricky and the prospect of uploading pictures a most daunting prospect. Still – Success!
We turned in for the night at about 11:00 p.m. – my usual bedtime. Except that I was still on West Coast time, which made it 8:00 p.m. So I spent a few hours reading Jeffrey Ford’s The Girl in the Glass. The novel, set in Depression era New York, focuses on a trio of con men who make a living running séance scams – until a seemingly supernatural development thrusts them headlong into a mystery involving a missing young girl, a fellow swindler, and an affluent community‘s dark past. Beautifully written, it’s peopled with joyously colorful characters negotiating their way through a veritable labyrinth of a plot filled with twists, turns, and, a fair sprinkling of Ford’s trademark humor. Regulars to this blog know that I’m a HUGE fan of Jeffrey Ford. Starting on one of his books is always a bittersweet experience for me. On the one hand, I look forward to the experience as he is one of very few authors who has never let me down. On the other hand, I’m somewhat saddened at the thought that one more book read means one less book to discover. I’ve yet to finish The Girl in the Glass, so I’ll hold off on a final review – but suffice it to say: So far, so excellent.

A quiet day today. Mom made polpettini -

Hey, when’re we hitting Au Pied de Cochon?

Happy 4th of July!

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July 5, 2009


“So,”said my mother, breaking the silence as she gazed out the car’s passenger side window. “Do you ever see yourself moving back to Montreal?”

I hesitated. Good question. Since moving to Vancouver ten years ago to join the writing staff of Stargate SG-1, there have been times I’ve missed Montreal – particularly in those first few months when our new city felt like the loneliest place in the world. But, over the years, Vancouver has become home. Whether it’s our permanent home is the big question however. It’s pretty clear that, given the choice, my wife would move back to the city she grew up in, the city her family still calls home. My family as well. But, for the time being, Vancouver is where the opportunities lie.

However, if and when Stargate does come to an end, it’ll be decision time. Montreal or Vancouver? Old home or new? When the time does come, there will be many variables to consider:

OPPORTUNITIES

We moved to Vancouver because I was offered a fantastic opportunity that blossomed into something far greater than I could have ever imagined. When my writing partner Paul and I joined SG-1 in its fourth season, it was with the understanding that the show would wrap production after it’s fifth season. In other words, I imagined that my stay in Vancouver would last two years, tops. Ten years and many, many scripts and episodes later, I’m still here and looking forward to the possibility of several more years with the launch of Stargate: Universe. If and when Stargate does come to an end, the west coast should continue to be my home – provided I was still interested in continuing my present line of work. Vancouver plays host to a multitude of productions and yet, even if the local opportunities dried up, L.A. is only a short flight away.

Montreal has taken giant steps in recent years but still, it’s a quagmire of Canadian-French-German co-productions, those three-headed monsters that end up turning into creative battlegrounds for all the different players who will want completely different, often contradictory things. It‘s a struggle of endless compromises that almost always results in an unwatchable pastiche. No thanks.

EDGE: Vancouver.

SUPPORT SYSTEM

This one’s a tough one. I have my mother, sister, and a handful of friends in Montreal while my wife’s entire family is here as well. On the other hand, we have many more friends in Vancouver.

If my wife was calling this one, she’d go with Montreal in a heartbeat. If it was up to me, I‘d give the edge to Vancouver because of the many close friends I‘ve made their over the years.

EDGE: Tie.

THE RESTAURANT SCENE

As someone who really enjoys food, I place a lot of importance on this particular metropolitan aspect. In fact, one of the things that worried me most about our move to Vancouver ten years ago was not so much how we would adjust to our new environment but whether the restaurants would be any good. Oh, how my fears were misguided. The thriving Asian and Indian populations in Vancouver ensure some of the best Japanese, Chinese, Korean, Vietnamese, Indonesian, and Indian restaurants in North Amerida. Throw in a general emphasis on seafood, locally grown product, and some incredibly innovative chefs, and you have a food scene that’s very hard to beat.

Montreal, on the other hand, offers some of the best French cuisine outside of France. From rustic down home to haute cuisine, they’re tough to beat in this respect – but in all other facets, I’m afraid they’re very beatable. Back when I was living in the city’s West Island, there was a high-end sushi restaurant I used to frequent regularly. On my first return visit to Montreal after the big move, I went back for dinner. After a year of eating Vancouver-quality sushi, I could barely bring myself to finish Montreal’s version.

Oh, and for the record, Vancouver has some pretty damn fine French restaurants of its own.

EDGE: Vancouver.

NIGHTLIFE

Not really a factor as my hard-partying days are behind me, but there’s an undeniable sexiness about Montreal, and a lot of it has to do with the city’s after-hour transformation into a vibrant, carefree party central for young and old, chic and casual, English and French. The city is alive 24/7.

By comparison, Vancouver turns into a ghost town after 11:00 p.m. on most weekdays. As for the weekends – sure, it has it’s share of clubs, but with the city’s growing organized crime problem, a little gangsters can go a long way toward putting a damper on a night out.

EDGE: Montreal.

TRAFFIC

Montreal drivers are the most aggressive in the country while the city’s streets and highways are perennially pockmarked with potholes or undergoing some sort of construction. Still – and despite the occasional traffic – it’s a fairly easy city to negotiate.

Vancouver is a burgeoning city that likes to pretend it’s a small town. As a result, the city is poorly designed to accommodate vehicle traffic. Some improvement has been made in recent years as the city scrambles to meet the challenges of the 2010 Olympics, but for the most part, its one step forward, two steps back. In a bid to appear progressive, the city is shutting down one lane of a major bridge into the downtown area and dedicating it to cycling traffic only. The thinking is that fewer driving lanes will translate to fewer cars on the road and, thus, prove an environmentally-friendly decision. Of course the truth is that fewer lanes will simply means more gridlock which will mean more idling engines and exhaust – but, the idiots at city hall are too busy feeling good about themselves to see the obvious.

EDGE: Montreal.

POLITICS

This one is neck and neck. At the city level, Vancouver is run by a bunch of deluded Greenatics who figure they can single-handedly legislate away the planet’s environmental problems. It’ll be interesting to see how their little “Burrard Street Bridge Cycling Lane” experiment pans out. I predict it won’t last past August.

Montreal, on the other hand, is a whole mess of other crazy where anxiety-ridden French nationalists feel provoked by English signage and a Language Inspector makes the rounds, investigating reports of shopkeepers serving customers in English or non-French speaking pet shop parrots. No, really.

EDGE: Tie.

WEATHER

Montreal is unbearably hot in the summer and deathly cold in the winter. Vancouver, meanwhile, boasts a short but beautiful summer and a rainy season that pretty much stretches from September to April. In my book, however, rain beats the deep freeze.

EDGE: Vancouver.

DOG FRIENDLINESS

As a multiple dog owner, this one is very important. And it isn’t even close. With its many doggy daycares, hotels and kennels, dog parks, pet stores, and dog-themed events, Vancouver is one of the pet-friendliest city’s anywhere. Montreal, while not exactly dog-unfriendly, can’t offer the same wide-open parks and walking trails for those sunny afternoon strolls with the pooch. Also, their antiquated moving day policy in which most rental leases expire on the exact same day – July 1st – ensure that hundreds of animals are abandoned by owners in their mad scramble to locate a pet-friendly residence. Pretty shameful.

EDGE: Vancouver.

SHOPPING

Pretty even across most retail areas except one: men’s fashion. Vancouver is great if you’re a guy who enjoys dressing in an endless variety of shorts and t-shirts. If, on the other hand, you’re looking for something a little more dressy and you’d like to look beyond the standard offerings of Harry Rosen and Holt Renfrew, then hop on a plane and head to Montreal where you’re guaranteed an impressive array of suits, ties, shoes, and endless accoutrements.

Edge: Montreal.

PROPERTY OWNERSHIP

Vancouver is a very expensive city to live in. Property prices are sky high and even the nicest of homes don’t guarantee you much in the way of a back yard. Montreal home prices, though having risen over the past few years, are downright cheap in comparison and you‘re guaranteed a nice piece of land. As for the homes themselves – I’m at a loss as to why so few Vancouver builders make use of stone in home construction.

EDGE: Montreal.

So, what’s the final tally? Vancouver 4. Montreal 4. And 2 ties. Hmmm. Looks like it’ll be a tough decision when the time comes.

Hey, finish up Blood of Ambrose and start putting together your thoughts for the discussion – and questions for author James Enge. We kick things off tomorrow.

Today’s entry is dedicated to Shirt ’n Tie and all those fellow travelers out there.

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July 6, 2009

Photo: Blood of Ambrose, by James Enge


King Lathmar, only twelve years old but heir to the Empire of Ontil, becomes the pawn in a dangerous political game when his Protector, the scheming Lord Urdhven, stages a shocking palace coup. Imprisoning his powerful rival and Lathmar’s guardian, the elderly yet fearsome Ambrosia of the Ambrosii, Lord Urdhven consolidates his hold on the court. Ambrosia is sentenced to death but, as per royal tradition, a champion may step forth to defend her against the court’s hand-picked champion – a mean feat because, in this case, the champion has yet to lose a single duel (there are whisperings of supernatural machinations afoot!). Despite the seemingly impossible odds, a curious challenger does step forward: a lone dwarf. King Lathmar frets, Lord Urdhven delights, and all hope seems lost until, mere seconds before the commencement of battle, it is revealed that the dwarf was merely holding a place for the true challenger who makes suddenly himself known: none other than Ambrosia’s brother, the infamous Morlock, a.k.a. The Crooked Man. The duel is fought, a champion crowned and soon after, the Empire is thrust into a civil war fraught with magic, mayhem, and mystery.

Blood of Amrose is a rarity – a stand-alone fantasy novel. It traces Lathmar’s development from a frightened and overwhelmed young boy to a courageous and experienced ruler as he struggles to wrest control of the Empire back from the clutches of his Machiavellian uncle. What he (and we) don’t realize is that there’s much more to Urdhven’s plotting than we are initially led to believe and, in a spectacularly shocking twist roughly halfway through the book, we discover that dark forces are at work behind the scenes, manipulating the action.

The book is divided into five sections, each a different chapter in the boy king’s evolution and progression in the battle for Ontil. On the one hand, I enjoyed this structure in that it offered unite little segments – mini-stories within the whole of the overarching story – that didn’t necessarily require a lengthy time commitment and proved satisfying all on their own. On the other hand, there were a few instances in which the narrative felt disjointed and where, unfairly or not, I faulted the structure. Elements introduced in one section disappear, never to be referenced again. Lathmar’s discovery of his grandmother’s alternate self is one of the book’s creative highpoints and yet this aspect of Ambrosia’s persona is never fully explored. In a similar manner, Merlin makes an appearance late in the book yet never exerts an influence on the plot. Of perhaps lesser note but of more interest to me was the girl Lathmar falls in love with – who is referred to, then never mentioned again.

Enge’s prose is tight and efficient, devoid of the rambling, oft-unendurable meandering descriptive passages that typify the high-fantasy genre. The setting is rich in detail, a masterful creation of world building, while the magic system that runs through the narrative proves ferociously imaginative yet impressive in its consistency. The characters are interesting – particularly Ambrosia and Morlock – yet miss the depth that would have made them truly memorable. Despite Lathmar’s growth over the course of the novel, he remains one of the most inaccessible of personalities, inscrutable despite being at the very heart of the narrative.

Some have compared Blood of Ambrose to the works of Joe Abercrombie and, while I enjoyed the many flashes of wit throughout, I’d have to disagree with the comparison because much of the humor in Abercrombie’s books is derived from the complexity and color of his characters. Here, the humor is more situational and dialogue-driven. Not a bad thing but, again, I feel there were opportunities missed, especially in relation to Ambrosia and Morlock.

Still, a unique and entertaining read with plenty to recommend it in terms of the myriad of inspired elements on hand to facilitate and complicate: flesh golems, mechanical spiders, the living dead, inelegant leaping horses, sorcerers, and mazelike castle passageways to make Mervyn Peake envious. An impressive fantasy debut.

So, those were my initial thoughts. What did everyone else think? Start posting your comments and questions for author James Enge.

Today’s blog entry is dedicated to birthday boy Martin Gero. ‘Member him?

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July 7, 2009

Photos: Sis and Felix, Sis's rotisserie ducks, Duck fat, Food


“That Queen Latifah,”my mother suddenly remarked. “I like her.” And then, following a thoughtful silence: “She hosted that award show with no audience.” (referring, of course, to that strike-stricken People’s Choice Awards of a few couple of years back). “Hmmm,”I offered by way of a response, focused as I was on inching us along Highway 40 and back home after an afternoon at my aunt‘s house where the ladies had sat and watched the Michael Jackson Memorial while I‘d sat alongside them, reading my book.

Since I’d had the to foresight to rent a car for my week-long stay in Montreal, I was drafted into service that morning as a driver for mom’s version of Meals on Wheels. We arrived at my auntie Jeanette’s a little after noon, arms laden with food, and sat down to lunch comprised of mom’s eggplant parmesan, penne and polpettini, roast chicken and potatoes. For dessert, my auntie Antoinette and cousin Leonara had dropped by The Big Apple enroute from Toronto. Yeah, I know, one hell of a detour – but no, different Big Apple. This Big Apple is, apparently, a place famed for its pies. I’m guessing apple mostly. Exactly why, I’m not sure. The pie I had consisted of barely cooked chunks of apple tucked beneath a half-baked crust. Brutal. I was able to force half of it down with help from the accompanying supermarket ice cream but had to leave the rest. “Oooh, too rich,”I said. This from the guy who does a double nutella tart whenever he visits Campagnolo.

I‘ve spent most of this trip eating, reading, or reading about eating.. Saturday night, my sister and her friend Lili took me to Shahi Palace, a restaurant that specializes in Indian and Pakistani cuisine. I was intrigued. Vancouver boasts its fair share of wonderful Indian restaurants, but nary a Pakistani eatery. That I know of anyway. So, when we sat down, the first thing I did after perusing the menu was to ask the waiter to point out the Pakistani dishes. Hey, do you know what the difference is between Indian and Pakistani cuisine? Apparently, not much according to our waiter. The meal’s high point was the Balti Chicken (tender pieces of chicken served in a spicy tomato-based sauce); it’s low point: the green bell pepper – and its accompanying produced sticker – served julienned in my Chili Fish.

Sunday was dinner at sis’s place. Kudos to her on the delicious rotisserie duck, duck fat-fried potatoes, and crème brulee that was ultimately more crème than brulee but tasty nevertheless. Yesterday was typical Italian fare: pasta e cecci and sausages.

After consulting with the so-called experts on the Chowhound boards, my sister took me to what was purported to be an excellent high-end restaurant on Montreal’s West Island: Le Bocage in Beaconsfield. I’m not sure what the English translation of “bocage” is but, after tonight’s meal, I’m guessing it’s something along the lines of “where restaurant dreams go to die”. Suffice it to say that had I run into any of the chowhounders who recommended this place immediately following my meal, I’d have been hard-pressed to resist punching their lights out.

But where to begin? Well, we sat down and were presented with two menus. The regular French menu, AND the “special” Italian Night menu. Hey, maybe we can come back next week and have Tunisian! As we considered our options, we were presented with some insanely garlicky bruschetta. Most may have been turned off but, being Italian, we quite liked them. Sadly, it was downhill from there. My starter was a terrine with a disquieting crusty meatloaf consistency, its flavors masked by an overwhelming peppercorn punch. My sister ordered what was described as escargots in a blue cheese sauce. She was served escargots swimming in a brown sauce. As she popped the first morsel into her mouth, I threw her an expectant look. “Salty,”was her one word review.

For mains, my sister had the lamb, cooked medium-rare as ordered. It was inoffensive and, thus, stands out among the items served. I had the filet mignon that was scorched hockey puck black. Despite my attempts to trim the top, bottom, and sides, it still retained its charred-to-**** flavor. Carcinogenilicious! The vegetable sides were a bonanza of blandness. Not exactly worth the $30. When our waitress swung by to clear the table, she noted that I had barely touched my steak. I informed her it was burnt and inedible. She seemed mildly interested and left, then returned with our bill. In keeping with the our crackerjack experience at Le Bocage, we were charged in full and not even comped a lousy dessert for the lousy experience. Just as well. I wouldn’t have trusted them anyway. Instead, we ended up going to Rockaberry for three types of pie that ended up being my actual dinner on this night.

As for Le Bocage – well, no idea how long this crap trap has been open but I’m betting the golden age crowd (in sparse attendance tonight) aint going to keep them afloat for long. As for whoever recommended this restaurant in the first place – I’d like to say they possess the palate of an anosmic St. Bernard or possibly grew up on a diet of cafeteria food, but that would prove a disservice to anosmic St. Bernard’s and cafeteria workers everywhere.

It don’t get much ****tier than this.

Oh, and today’s entry is dedicated to birthday gal Jackie.

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July 8, 2009


My mother’s guest bed is horrifically uncomfortable. It’s like every night, after I turn off the lights, two guys armed with baseball bats crawl out from under the bed and beat my mercilessly about the neck, back, and shoulders until dawn.

The picture tube on my mother’s 30 year old t.v. set needs frequent breaks. Every two minutes or so, it simply goes to black for a full minute, taking the volume with it, before returning to its former vibrant self. For another two minutes.

Every once in a while, my mother’s refrigerator emits the rattle and hum of the ice making process. Only problem is my mother’s regrigerator doesn’t haved an ice maker.

My mother operates under the constant impression that people: a) are cheating her, b) have cheated her, or c) have every intention of cheating her. Thus, grocery shopping with her can be a trying experience as she’ll take the time to go over her receipt while she’s still at the till, occasionally challenging the check-out girl on spurious charges – that always end up being legitimate.

One of the key ingredients in my mother’s shampoo is battery acid. I know because I accidentally got some in my eyes this morning.

Speaking of my eyes – I have no idea whether it’s the new environment or me but, over the past few days, I can barely get through 50 page before my eyes begin to sting and I’m forced to set aside my latest book. It’s as though the remnants of bear spray forever hangs in the air.

Felix’s high-pitched and incessant barking is like a shiv to the soul.

My mother’s alarm system that screams “ARMED!” and “DISARMED!” is also like a shiv to the soul. Especially if you happen to be sleeping when mom turns it on or off.

My experience to this point suggests there are no good restaurants in Montreal. Today’s lunch, at a Szechuan restaurant, was comprised of an odd-tasting cucumber salad with gelatinous bits, a spicy chicken dish whose every chicken morsel disguised a deadly bone shard, a cumin beef dish that tasted strangely gamey, and a fatty pork dish that failed to impress. Tonight – Europa. Tomorrow – Au Pied de Cochon, which has yet to let me down.

Some Blood of Ambrose discussion:

**snip**

I’ll be gathering questions for author James Enge until Thursday, so post ‘em if you got ‘em!

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July 9, 2009

Photos: Dinner


Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past couple of days or staying at your mother’s place in Montreal without proper internet access, you probably already know about the new, revamped, ultra-cool and informative dedicated Stargate site at MGM.com. It’s a terrific-looking site, easy to navigate, with tons of goodies on all things Stargate: SG-1, Atlantis, and, of course, Universe – with advanced peeks on everything from the characters to the ship itself. Congrats to Grey Munford and the rest of his team at MGM for putting it together. Check it out: http://stargate.mgm.com/

Doubly good news for Stargate fans as this means I can finally start posting all those interior Destiny pics and video of the early gate tests.

Hey, to all of those asking me why I haven’t bought my mother a new t.v. yet – I’m trying! She insists the picture quality on her present set is fantastic – whenever it works. Truth is, I’d like to buy her a new refrigerator, a fence for her backyard, heck, even take her for the occasional lunch and/or dinner while I’m in town but she stymies me at every turn. Today, for instance, I suggested we head out for some smoked meat sandwiches – a Montreal tradition. Instead, we had leftovers. What’s a son to do?

I’m pleased to report that, last night, my confidence in the Montreal dining scene was fully restored with a visit to Restaurant Europea. My sister and I enjoyed a 10 course Menu Degustation with a creative flair that reminded me of my visits to Chateau Joel Robuchon in Ebisu and L’Osier in Ginza. Our meal went like this:

An amuse-bouche cauliflower cream gelee with black truffle served along a bowl of parmesan crisps. An great start.

A superb lobster cream cappuccino with truffle shavings.

A truffled egg cream served in an egg shell. Very good as well but I wonder about the decision to serve three successive truffled dishes. Had I arranged the menu, I would have started with this more subtle creation and built to the more intensely flavored lobster cappuccino.

Scallops and sweetbread served with parsnip and bak-choy in a “yellow wine” reduction. A nice dish but I felt the sweetbread were an odd addition that, while certainly tasty on its own, really had no business being there.

A delicious tuna tataki, one of the best I’ve ever had, although I wasn’t enamored of the accompany vegetable vermicelli.

A very subtle filet of Mediterranean bass served with poached rice lettuce,sturgeon caviar, and Jerusalem artichoke mousseline.

A foie gras cromesqui shaped like a cigar and, appropriately enough, served in a cigar box – its crispy and savory exterior concealing a luxrious and sweet interior.

An intensely flavored Cornwell chicken with a galanga infusion and shiitake vermicelli. This meat was wonderfully tender and aromatic. My only quibble with the dish was the skin of the chicken. I would have preferred a nice crispy exterior. As it was, I ended up removing the skin and setting it alongside the vermicelli – which, in my opinion and in all cases, are barely a step up from a garnish.

Our next course was a glass domed presentation, its contents obscured by the opaque smokiness captured within.

The domes were whisked away and the smoke dispersed to reveal the Kobe Beef short ribs served alongside a crispy galette of root vegetables.

The beef possessed a wonderful barbecue flavor and, while tender, lacked the characteristic marbling I’ve come to expect from Kobe beef. Still, a very good dish.

Then came the desserts. And they kept coming…

A trio platter comprised of a sugar dusted doughnut, a coconut panecotta, and a Tahitian vanilla crème brulee.

Then some tiny but tasty mignardises: chocolate crisp, raspberry macaron, nougat, pistachio-almond cookie, and marshmallow.

Followed by a bowl of pink cotton candy.

And a box of warm madelaines.

Then a berry sorbet.

Topping things off with some meringue cookies, home made toffee, and anise candies.

An incredibly inventive menu, fun presentations, and some wonderful flavor combinations made for a truly memorable meal. Service was terrific throughout.

Tonight, something a little more rustic. Finally – Au Pied de Cochon!

By the time I got home, I was stuffed. But mom insisted on my sampling some of her freshly made Russian tea cakes. Anyone else familiar with these? When done right, they just melt in your mouth.

Advertising Age questions whether Burger King being intentionally offensive as part of its international marketing strategy: http://adage.com/globalnews/article?article_id=137801

Drunk badger disrupts traffic. No, really: http://www.reuters.com/article/oddly...rpc=22&sp=true

The great tipping debate. Andrew Knowlton of Bon Appetit weighs in: http://www.bonappetit.com/magazine/2...oodist_tipping

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July 10, 2009

Photos: Lili, Joe Mallozzi and sister, Dinner


I had only planned on attending one funeral while in town and, thus, packed accordingly. The news that I would have to attend a second took me by surprise and left me feeling like that guy who only owns a single suit, dress shirt, and tie he wears to every momentous occasion be it a wedding, an office party, or his own wake. Fortunately, the two services would be playing to two completely different crowds on two separate days so I didn’t have to worry about committing a fashion funeral faux pas.

This morning, we were at the Catholic church – unfamiliar territory for yours truly. Okay, granted, Protestant church aint exactly familiar territory for me either on account of my spotty attendance record of late (“late” being the humongous gap between early high school and now), but I was raised Protestant and have a basic sense of how things roll in the old holy hood. “What’s that?”you say. “Protestant? But your Italian!” True. Somewhere in my vast blog archive, I’ve already gone over how my mother was once a minister of the United Church and how my father was raised Catholic until the day his younger sister caught a beating from a local nun that so enraged my grandmother she chased off an apologetic priest with a broom, renounced her Catholic faith, and converted to Protestantism. Run a search for “Catholic” and “broom”. I’m sure you’ll be able to track it down.

Anyway, today, we were at the Catholic Church. After exchanging condolences and chatting about jury duty and Istanbul as a vacation destination with a distant relative, we all headed inside. Moments later, the coffin was rolled in (allowing the pallbearers to push rather than do any actual heavy lifting which really is a bit of a cheat when you consider they‘re not doing any actual “bearing“). The priest approached, said a few words, and then everyone bowed their heads to observe a moment of silence. Some thirty seconds into the extended hush – CLAK! – what sounded like a snapping whip broke the stillness. I hazarded a peek and watched an elderly man look down at the cane he had dropped then glance up to see if anyone had noticed. I dropped my gaze to avoid embarrassing him. Another twenty seconds of silence and – CLAK! In an attempt to surreptitiously pick up the cane, he had dropped it again. Perhaps having lost patience, the priest launched into a murmured a prayer that ABRUPTLY BOOMED THROUGH THE ENTIRE CHAMBER AS HIS MICROPHONE SUDDENLY KICKED IN!!!

The procession made its way to the front where the priest assumed his position at the pulpit. Then ensued a church version of Simon Says with mourners standing, sitting, kneeling, crossing, and murmuring at various points throughout the service with no apparent rhyme or reason. At first I figured I’d be the lagger but it quickly became evident that fully a third of those in attendance hadn’t a clue what to do. At certain points, a handful would suddenly stand, prompting others to join them, only to have some retake their seats with the realization that the standing wasn’t unanimous. As they would retake their seats, still others would rise, leaving those who had just cast their lot with the sitters to reconsider their allegiance, causing some to stand up once again. While others were in the process of retaking their seats. It was like watching one of those pop-a-weasels in action. Half way through the service, the woman sitting in front of me jumped to her feet, presuming the next movement – and guessed wrong. She was on her feet for a full minute, seemingly willing everyone to join her. No one did. After a while, she glanced around in bewilderment and retook her seat, mortified.

I’m conversational in Italian but couldn’t understand most of what the priest was saying on account of him being a bit of a low-talker. I wish I’d paid closer attention because, partway through his talk, I heard the fellow sitting behind me mutter: “Wrong sermon.”

After the sermon wrapped, a guy with hair like Harry and Norman Osborn from the Spiderman comics gave a speech. While he was talking, I heard a bit of a commotion from the back of the church. One of the church elders approached the spotlight family member – still in mid-speech – and said something to him before trundling off. Harry/Norman finished up and, as he stepped off, another priest stepped in and informed those gathered that they could pay their condolences at the cemetery as there was another funeral waiting to come in and if everyone could file out as quickly as possible that would be great. Stunned looks were exchanged, the music swelled, the coffin was wheeled out, and everyone followed in orderly fashion, passing the second-shift mourners in waiting, their coffin poised and read to roll.

Tomorrow, we’ll be at the Protestant church, one block up. I believe we have the venue all afternoon and, as such, won’t have to worry about being bumped by a second memorial service, women’s choir practice, or charity bingo.

Last night, as expected, I had the meal to end all meals. We were at Au Pied de Cochon – the one place I absolutely have to visit whenever I’m in Montreal. And with good reason. This is Quebec-style comfort food at its finest. On the menu, you’ll find everything from rustic French onion soup to the freshest of seafood platters. But the one item that Au Pied is known – and keeps me coming back – is foie gras in all its forms: cured, pan-fried, in tarts and terrines, crowning hamburgers, stuffed in pig’s feet, served atop duck. Surprisingly, they haven’t incorporated into the dessert menu yet – but maybe that’s for the best because their dessert menu is mighty outrageous on its own.

Here’s a pictorial rundown of my dinner:

P.S. I went out and bought my mom a t.v. set yesterday.

She hates it.

[Thunder Hawk]

anytime we get to see the destiny set is a epic win. i wish oct would come

[Coronach]

http://josephmallozzi.wordpress.com/...lright-im-done

July 11, 2009:

Alright, I’m Done!

In two days, I’ve attended two services – a Catholic funeral yesterday, and a Protestant memorial today. Some marked differences between the two in terms of ceremony, stained glass (Hey, is that a peacock?), and air conditioned comfort. More bells and rituals on the Catholic side. More violin solos and sweltering heat on the Protestant side. Oh, and ruck up one epiphany for your truly. As this afternoon’s ceremony drew to a close I was struck by a sudden, soul-shattering revelation: Josh Groban’s You Raise Me Up and Bette Midler’s Your Are The Wind Beneath My Wings are the same damn song!

Today’s affair was a little less staid, a little more laid back. Following a novella-length personal reminiscence, the pace picked up with a couple of brief speeches, readings, said violin solo, and a short sermon. No confusion as to when to sit and stand (the minister’s prompts were clear enough) but much confusion when it came time to the hymns as those gathered were incapable of following simple instructions in terms of what stanza to sing and when. They all chose to do their own thing but it all worked out in the end so that, in less than two hours, we were all outside enjoying the sudden driving downpour. As I was attempting to corral my mother toward my double-parked sister, one very distant relative approached and remarked how much I resembled my father. “More and more, you’re beginning to look like him,”she said which was pretty much the same thing as her telling me: “You’re looking older and older!” Thanks. Thanks a lot.

My last night in Montreal as I prepare for tomorrow’s return flight to Vancouver. Although I may have been conflicted at the beginning of my stay, it’s taken me all of three days to realize that the west coast is where I want to be. The houses may be more expensive, the back yards smaller, and the cyclists infinitely more annoying, but there’s no denying it’s home now. Nine full days here was great but, any longer, and I’d have gone stir crazy AND run out of books and thus been forced to raid mom’s library. In one panicked instant, I was seriously weighing The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency versus Maeve Binchy’s Firefly Summer.

Thanks for tagging along on my trip. Once I’m settled back in familiar territory, you can look forward to all those Universe-related designs, on-set pics, and behind-the-scenes photos and videos I’ve been holding onto.

Speaking of Stargate and, specifically, the new official site, I inquired about the accessibility issues faced by those of you overseas. Words is it’s a regional and rights issue but they’re working on a long-term resolution and hope to have it sorted out soon.

Looking forward to a dependable internet connection.

[jjit]

Hope he will post some DHD pics.
Because DHD pics from MGM site were artwork I think.

[Jumper_One]

http://josephmallozzi.wordpress.com/...d-catching-up/

July 12, 2009

Photos: The trip back


As much as I hated saying goodbye to my mother and sister, I have to admit that I was relieved to finally be heading home. Montreal is a nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there.

I caught an early flight out and, with the exception of some bizarre bread pudding-like catastrophe they deigned to call a spinach frittata (curiously devoid of any actual spinach), the trip back was uneventful and we ended up getting in on time. Unfortunately, we had to wait twenty-five minutes for the ground crew to figure out how to operate the new bridge that would connect us to the terminal. I sat there at my window seat and watched the guy work the controls, bringing the bridge forward, then back, then forward again, then a little too far to the right, then back, then a little further to the right, then way over to the left, then forward, then back, and so on. It was like sitting by and watching someone play a video game. You want to shout: “Left! Left! Okay, stop! Now forward! Ah, forget it! Let me try!“. The pilot came on to apologize and explain it was a new bridge and the ground crew wasn’t familiar with the equipment but they’d get it no time and, by the way, does anyone on board have to make a connecting flight? I mean, okay. They didn’t have the hang of the new equipment but, really, would it have killed them to perfect the process on their own time?

Despite the delay, I arrived home in a great mood, delighted to be reunited with my dogs. Oh, and wife.

Now that I can finally sit back, relax, and access a reliable internet connection, I’d like to devote the rest of today’s entry to playing catch-up with the mailbag…


Ganymede writes: “ Don’t know if you’re at SHORELEAVE – if not, I was talking with TheTODD… mentioned *your* name… He says Hi! — Had “that” smile on his face…”

Answer: Did he happen to mention when he’ll be coming by to do a fan Q&A?

Montrealer writes: “You didn’t pick up additional reading material locally when your stash dwindled to nothing?”

Answer: I was able to ration my reading so that I finished the last book, Look To Windward, as we were touching down in Vancouver. I saved two books, Valis and The Midwich Cuckoo’s for my return.

DasNdanger writes: “I consider myself a social loner. I like chatting with people – especially strangers (explains why I’m on the net) – but when I’m done, I just want to be left alone!”

Answer: You and I are similar in that respect. While I do enjoy socializing, I’ll always prefer sitting at home watching a dvd or reading a good book.

Quade1 writes: “Your gonna love it even more when you get back here, it’s been mid to high 20s since you left and not a cloud in the forseable future!!”

Answer: Well, it’s been overcast and cool since I got back. I seem to be a bad weather magnet.

Lcshepp writes: “Word out of Shoreleave [Luttrell told] the SGA movie is a no-go. Jason was supposedly told by you it’s on. Can the SGA fans please have official word from the supposed hallowed tptb that might resemble some form of truth?”

Answer: There has been no official word on whether the movie is officially a go OR a no-go. I was told we would be making a movie and did go through the trouble of writing a script after all. When I spoke to Jason a couple of months ago, things were looking very positive and I felt an announcement was imminent. Yet despite the delay and the various economic factors that have complicated matters (not the least of which being the significant drop-off in dvd sales across the board in the past six months) I’m still confident that the movie will get made.

Sparrow_hawk writes: “ Anyway, as I said before, I hope you made sure your sister understands the new TV before you left so she can help your mom with the inevitable problems that will come up because she pressed the wrong button when she was trying to change channels!”

Answer: Already happened. She was holding the new remote upside-down and couldn’t understand why the channels wouldn’t change but the volume would get louder.

Sam Cavanaugh writes: “But The Wind Beneath My Wings and You Raise Me UP the same song? My suggestion is that you listen again!”

Answer: Never ever again if I can help it.

Quade1 writes: “i know your jet lagged and tired. but do you have any info on the wraith language?”

Answer: This was a perfect question for the gang at playback to answer. Where were you when Krista McLean dropped by to do her Q&A?

Josh Taylor writes: “How are the final two episodes going for Season One?”

Answer: Paul has already gone to script on episode 19. I received notes on the outline for 20 and plan to start work on the script later in the week.

Deeinsouthafrica writes: “I personally hate being forced into piracy.”

Answer: Same. I can’t wield a cutlass to save my life.

Chevron7 writes: “Is the dog twitter feed in the sidebar new or have I not been paying attention?”

Answer: It’s new. And you haven’t been paying attention.

Nadine writes: “Just a quick question: is it just me, or was that Atlantis on your t-shirt in the picture?”

Answer: Yes, it is. It was a crew gift for the show’s fifth season.

AnnieFromFreemantle writes: “ That restaurant has Oh My God food! Wow.. I’d have to visit the gym 7 days in a row (might as well camp there) to work off all that food.. looks heavenly and so decadent. No protestors there this time?”

Answer: No, this was Montreal. If the protesters showed, they’d get their asses handed to them.

Coronach writes: “Do you know what the circumstances of getting Janelle Monae to perform on the show were? By this I mean, was someone a fan of hers and wanted her on, or was there another reason behind it?”

Answer: The episode called for a club scene with background music by a performer. We looked into several possibilities and ultimately decided on Janelle. She has quite a few fans in the production office.

Maddog316 writes: “” How old is the Character Vala?” if you could provide you insight on this and use it to put the isseu to rest.”

Answer: Sorry to say that, at this point, I don’t even remember.

Sparrow_hawk writes: “I love Russian Tea Cakes! Does your mom put finely chopped or ground nuts in hers?”

Answer: Yep. Walnuts I believe.

Mishmee writes: “Um, does your mother ever ask you if you are ever going to get a real job?”

Answer: When I first left my 9 to 5 job as a Manager of Animation Development for life as a freelancer, my parents were horrified, figuring I was giving up job security for professional uncertainty. Some fifteen years later, I think mom has finally come around and accepted my career choice.

Quade1 writes: “did anyone correctly guess the names of episodes 18-19 or was it 19-20? what were the clues again?”

Answer: It was 19 and 20. And, yes, a couple of people guessed correctly. I just never confirmed their correct guesses.

Eric Stewart writes: “Taste of the Islands: Fine Caribbean Creole cuisine.”

Answer: That’s one thing Montreal does do well – Caribbean and Creole. What I’d give for a good Cajun restaurant in Vancouver.

Laurence Moroney writes: “Thanks for promoing the site on your blog. I’ve been a reader of yours for some time, though I sometimes hate reading your blog as I end up super hungry afterwards.”

Answer: Great job on the site. And if I ever do get down to Seattle, I’ll definitely look you up.

[Jumper_One]

http://josephmallozzi.wordpress.com/...our-questions/

July 13, 2009

Photo: James Enge


Today, it gives me great pleasure to turn this blog over to James Enge – fantasist, educator, and all-around nice guy. The only thing that pleases me more than playing host to a talented author is playing host to a talented and genial author (I suppose playing host to a talented and genial author willing to buy our old massage table would be too much to hope for. Or is it…?).

Anyway, before I turn things over to James, I just wanted to give you an update on a former guest to this blog – actor Mike Dopud. Fans can catch him on the season 2 premiere of Durham County at 9:00 p.m., tonight, on The Movie Network and Movie Central. Mike will also be guesting on FOX’s Mental this Friday, July 17th, at 9:00 p.m. Check it out.

I now turn things over to author James Enge as he weighs in on work in progress, what makes a good book, and, of course, Fodor’s Guide to Middle Earth...

**snip**

[Jumper_One]

http://josephmallozzi.wordpress.com/...the-gate-room/

July 14, 2009

Photos: John Scalzi, SGU gate room


Back in mid-January, I visited Stage 4, what was to be the Destiny set, for the first time. Construction was well under way and the ship was taking shape: gate room, control interface room, observation deck, quarters, and corridors. My first reaction upon strolling through the work-in-progress was: “Wow!” And then, my second reaction was: “They’ll never finish in time!”

Well, happily, they did, and it was fascinating to watch the process develop, from those early designs through construction to the finished product.


Mailbag:

Anne Teldy writes: “ Mr. M., my birthday is the 27th of July. Any chance of my promised autographed script page arriving before then? You said “soon” on May 25th.”

Answer: Sorry. I was trying to track down another autograph. Unfortunately, you won’t receive it for your birthday (the production offices are closed through July) but will receive it as a belated birthday gift in August.

NaniWahine writes: “ Hello Mr. M – I just got back from the Shoreleave con & Rachel mentioned that she’s heard from the studio that SGA movie is NOT happening.”

Answer: I already addressed this two entries back. There has been NO word from the studio either way.

Thornyrose writes: “ And I’m mulling some ideas for a SGA skit for the Masquarade next year. Any interest?”

Answer: In the skit? Sure. Do I get to play myself.

Lcshepp writes: “Thanks for resonding to my question re: the SGA movie. Would it be more economic to have the SGA movie be a two hour TV movie or even a mini series, from the network side of things?”

Answer: From the network side of things I’m sure that either would be terrific – given that they had oodles of cash to finance the entire production.

Nadine writes: “ What did you think of “Look to Windward”? How did you find it in relation to Banks’ other works? Have you read Matter yet?”

Answer: Banks is one of my favorite SF writers and, while Look to Windward was very good, I’ve preferred some of his other books – Consider Phlebas, Player of Games, Use of Weapons, and Inversions to name a few. Haven’t read Matter yet. Next up is The Algebraist.

Montrealer writes: “Mr M. What is the percentage drop off in DVD sales recently? Is the drop off the same in the US and Canada?”

Answer: I don’t recall the percentage stated in the article I read, but it was significant.

Quade1 writes: “If DVD sales are dwindling, would you guys consider theatrical releases?”

Answer: Sorry, not in the cards.

Quade1 also writes: “ I should have added, if the movie does fall through, what would you think of bringing the series back?”

Answer: Sorry. Also not in the cards.

Bailey writes: “Sales of the Season 5 Atlantis DVD’s seem to be doing well,
http://tvbythenumbers.com/2009/07/14...vd-sales/22772
better, in fact, than the Season 4 set had done at this time.
Do you thing this will have any significant effect on the possiblity of the SGA movie going forward?”

Answer: The DVD market is one of many factors. That said, this is certainly good news and does prove there are plenty of Atlantis fans out there.

[Jumper_One]

http://josephmallozzi.wordpress.com/...-some-mailbag/

July 15, 2009

Photos: The Control Interface Room


Well, I finally did it. I finally started writing the season finale. Next to writing any of the first three and a half acts or doing the re-writes, actually starting the script is one of the hardest parts of the process. This morning, I decided to tackle the Tease (aka Teaser, aka Cold Open, aka Lord Pimsley’s Lugubrian Cache-Entrée). After a discussion with Paul – who is writing the penultimate episode which segues neatly into mine – I had a game plan. And after working out the broad strokes of the scene(s) over breakfast, I was ready to move onto the next step – a hot shower where I proceeded to run the dialogue in my head. Forty-five minutes later the bathroom walls were bubbling and I had my Tease. I hurried downstairs lest I suddenly collapse and wake up with an inexplicable case of amnesia like that woman in the first season of 24, and wrote it up. Four glorious pages! From here on in, it’s smoooooth sailing.

Until tomorrow when I have to start Act I.

Apparently, those lovably close-minded anti-foie gras protesters were at it again this past weekend, harassing people out for a nice night out. As always whenever they show, foie gras sales picked up at Fuel on the night. Unfortunately, clients of the neighboring restaurant, a Thai eatery that doesn’t serve foie gras, were serenaded with shouts and curses as well. When the manager of said restaurant stepped outside to kindly ask the protesters to keep it down, she was told that her restaurant would have to suffer because they weren’t doing more to stop Fuel from serving foie gras. For real.

Anyhoo, the restaurants actually serving foie don’t seem to be all that bothered by the demonstrators (as I said, their foie gras sales actually go through the roof because, shockingly, people generally resent being told what to do). Still, I was inspired enough to post the following suggestion on a local Vancouver food industry board:

“Well, it’s great to hear that the protesters are doing their best to boost foie gras sales. However, if you’re looking to annoy – and I mean really annoy – and undermine their message, I’d suggest taking a page out of their own book and join ‘em!

Yep, gather a bunch of friends and put together some home made signs that read -

“STOP THE WORM GENOCIDE! STOP SPORT FISHING!”

“SAVE THE TURKEYS! LEGISLATE AN END TO THANKSGIVING!”

“MILLIONS OF SHEEP GO COLD SO YOU CAN STAY WARM! SAY NO TO THE WOOL INDUSTRY!”

“GOLDFISH – SUBURBIA’S POLITICAL PRISONERS!”

“SHUT UP AND LET US DECIDE WHAT YOU SHOULD EAT! NO MEAT!”

- and then protest right alongside them. Really work hard to grab the attention of those passing motorists and passersby. Maybe put together a petition or two to “Designate Vancouver A Meat-Free Zone!”, “Force City Hall to Build North America’s First Spider Sanctuary!”, or “Outlaw the Sale of Bug Zappers and Fly Swatters to Save the Lives of our Insect Friends!”. “

It may seem like a joke, but I’m serious. Apparently, last year, when a lone counter-demonstrator did something similar – showing up alongside the protesters holding up his own homemade sign (something to do with turkeys being delicious I believe) – the protesters yelled at him, called him names, threatened to accuse him of sexual harassment, then simply lost it and made such a spectacle of themselves that the police were called in to arrest the ringleader. Heh heh. Good times. Good times.

Oh, hey, look! It’s the Control Interface Room.

Today’s entry is dedicated to Gilder.


Mailbag:

Mishmee writes: “Joe, you often mention beats when you are talking about script writing. Have you explained what you mean by beats? If not could you give me the Coles Notes version”

Answer: Sure thing. When I refer to “beats” I’m referring to steps in the narrative progression, the in-story developments that build the story (ie. Rush reveals he’s captured the Easter Bunny, Young attempts to contact Santa Claus’s spaceship to warn him, The Easter Bunny escapes with the help of Scott, They reach the shuttle only to find Father Time and his Minion of Mayhem waiting for them, etc.). A “beat sheet” is comprised of all of these general progessions – short and sweet- as opposed to the more “detailed outline” that is generally broken down into specific scenes.

Crayonbaby writes: “I wonder when they figure out DVD sales, they add in downloads from iTunes, Amazon, etc?”

Answer: They do but, according to the article, downloads didn’t make up for the drop-off.

Angelus writes: “Is it just me or are these pictures not clickable to see them in full detail?”

Answer: Nope, it’s not just you. I switched the settings for one pic and forgot to switch it back. I don’t know. I kind of like ‘em mid-sized. They make for fast uploading.

ADJM writes: “Working in the science fiction television creating business, and with the genre being so rich and deep in which to explore and produce such incrediable spectacles like Stargate, if I could ask, what is the thing for you that makes sci-fi such a great stand-out genre to work in, i.e. what it’s like to be creating stories for this genre in this medium?”

Answer: SF on its own allows you certain creative freedoms denied a writer in most any other genre. That said, one of the great things about writing for Stargate is that it allows you that much more freedom. Rather than adhere to a strict narrative structure, the Stargate concept allows us to tell very different stories each episode. We can do grand space battles or quiet introspective stories, visit bizarre alien worlds or explore Earth-bound mysteries, tell a story over multiple episodes or present a self-contained stand-alone adventure, do military SF, fantasy, or horror… The possibilities are endless.

Rebecca H writes: “I just finished Banks’ Use of Weapons and it was one of the most depressing books I’ve read in a long time. However, it’s still an excellent book.”

Answer: Yeah, I liked it enough. And then when I got to the end – Whoa!

Vecturist writes: “Joe, what’s your reaction to articles like the following: http://www.scifiheaven.net/index.php...ned-to-flop”

Answer: Well, I was alarmed as you can imagine. “Why Stargate Universe Is Destined To Flop”. Destined! What had we done to offend the gods? Why have the Fates reserved us to these woes? Should we take a day trip down to Delphi and make an offering? No? Too late for that? Well, I guess if we’ve been “destined to flop”, then there’s nothing we can do but strike the sets and go our separate ways. Thanks for coming everybody. Last one out turn off the lights…

Oh, wait a minute. Upon closer scrutiny, it would seem that I’ve been led astray. While the title of the article says the show is “Destined To Flop”, the article itself is only Chris’s opinion. A thoughtful, nicely presented opinion, but an opinion no weightier than yours or mine or those who thought SG-1 wouldn’t last or those who predicted Atlantis would crash and burn. Ultimately, it’s up to the fans. If they like the show, they’ll watch it and we’ll continue to produce it. If they don’t like it, they won’t watch it and I’ll finally be able to pursue my dream of owning my own petting zoo.

At the end of the day – meh. It’s easy to predict failure because the vast majority of shows do fail. It’s nice to see though that, just in case, Chris hedges his bets (“ Does the current writing team have the talent to pull of a directionary overhaul? I fear not, given how Atlantis turned out. Could they surprise me and create a good show? Absolutely.”).

Take THAT, destiny!