Jamie Bamber is a dish and a half

Uh oh, suddenly find myself cruelly wedded to my job. Never did expect to leave at 2 a.m. from the current gig, never! Imagine what depths I would plumb for a more wistful agenda.

Had a real nutjob of a dream last night. I was on a space shuttle flight, of all things, and was sore afraid before launch. Fear and trembling, matey. Then the tension eased, and I was won over by a moving America as seen through shuttle windows and against a stirring soundtrack. Yes, I heard music in a dream. Never say never, I guess. And I saw what I thought were the streets of Denver (through a space shuttle?!), purple clouds festooned with the darkest patterns, and children who couldn’t complete the journey. And somehow experienced a pit stop and a bus stop. Too weird to drop.

I think the dream was borne out of a newborn fondness for Battlestar Galactica (which I note with relief has zip to do with Battlefield Earth [vomit]). But tell you what, the lasers-and-boobies posturing of the Sci-fi channel (as seen through its self-promoting ad) (and probably emblematic of much Sci-fi) is a Major Turnoff.

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