Battlestar Galactica and The Scorched Earth Technique

CAUTION: Spoilers for the mid-fourth-season finale of Battlestar Galacitca follow.

Remember when The Sopranos started the long wind-up to its finale? Tony had been shot by Uncle June and was now laid up in a hospital bed, his recovery still in question. As that unending, multi-episode dream sequence was drawing to a close, there was Tony B. beckoning to our man from the doorstep of a farm house simultaneously lovely and terrifying. The clatter of a party inside clicked and sparkled. We all knew what was inside. It was a tired conceit – Life or Death: Choose – but it felt appropriate.

For a moment there, I honestly believed the writers were about to do something momentous. Tony S. was on his way out, leaving a wealth of episodes for the writers to finally deal with questions that really mattered. They'd have already trampled all over the most mundane of plot points: "Does Tony live or die?"

We all know that David Chase ended up taking an entirely different risk with the end of his story. In retrospect, I can't imagine a better ending. But I still say a killer opportunity was missed.

Well, bully for us if Ronald Moore didn't – forgive me – roll the hard six. The critics all seem to agree that this was a top notch episode. Me, I'm thrilled that, with the most irrelevant questions already answered, we've still got at least eleven episodes left – including a rumored three hour finale to focus on the fun stuff.

My wife Meg nailed it immediately. She's not much for the SciFi channel, but she's a whip-smart English Ph.D. student and – at least on some level – appreciates the show's unorthodox narrative turns. She skipped Friday's episode, so last night, I was describing that final scene to her – how Adama, having just landed on Earth, bends down and grasps a first fist full of earth, the tittering geiger counter instantly telegraphing the extent to which humanity is fraked.

"Ha!" she said. "It's the Scorched Earth technique. Literally. Burn the whole story down and start over."

"ExACTly," I say. "Isn't that, like, totally frakin' awesome."

Meg smiled.

That's fine, Meg. I'm excited enough for the both of us.