I’m on an overload of dorky media this summer. It started innocently enough in the spring, when Battlestar Galactica was in its last season and suddenly everyone I knew was saying what a GREAT SHOW it was–deep and interesting with religious commentary etc. So I decided to order it on Netflix and see what the fuss was all about. That’s ongoing–my friend Jessie and I watch about 4 episodes a week. It IS good, though I’m getting ready for them to raise the stakes a little.

That was fine, but then I watched “Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog” on Hulu, as Penelope recommended, and it was so awesome that I had to find out everything else Joss Whedon has ever done. I ripped through Firefly in about a week and a half–also so awesome, though some of the characterizations are a little shaky–I want to see what Whedon would have done had he had the chance to make a second season.

Then I was telling my roommate Carmen about Firefly and she said, “Well, my sister is really into Buffy the Vampire Slayer–want me to borrow the first two seasons from her?” And I said YES YES PLEASE and, well, now Luke and I have watched the first two seasons and I may have cried on multiple occasions. (Side note: The only distressing part is that the character I identify with BY FAR the most is Giles. Which, well, is probably to be expected–he’s a big nerd who deals with ancient texts and supernatural forces; me, ditto–but, well, people call him a fuddy-duddy. Do people call me that?  Basically I am afraid I am rapidly becoming a short-sighted fussy librarian. Or maybe I am FULLY EMBRACING my destiny of becoming a short-sighted fussy librarian. You be the judge.)

THEN, because Carmen apparently loves/hates me, she brought over ALL the sequels to Ender’s Game, which is one of my favorite books ever. So now I’m reading those too. Conclusion: my summer has been a very odd melange of German readings about HIV/AIDS and workers’ strikes, Syriac fragments of the Peshitta, books about liberation theology and the martyrdom of Oscar Romero that I’m reading aloud for an MA student, and science fiction/fantasy media. Add all that up, and still my dreams are mostly about Clementine peeing on the rug. Go figure.