Last night’s episode of Lost was amazing. Just frickin’ amazing.

If you have watched the show in the past and stopped recently, now would be a good time to get back into the swing of things.

The show is embarking down a very interesting path, and I cannot help but think that Benjamin Linus (Michael Emerson) and Charles Widmore (Alan Dale) are somehow playing everyone in the show. These two characters are either puppets of or directly related to the four-toed folk who originally played God on the island, and I cannot help but wonder if the entire island conflict is merely an epic struggle for the mysterious properties of the islands by these two “would-be” Gods.

Added legible text to the post from earlier.

Well, the torturous stay here at CLV is almost over.

We were given a list of chores that were designated to each of us that we must complete before we leave. Some of the chores dealt with our specific rooms, while others dealt with the common areas.

Subject C is the most inconsiderate person I have ever seen. He left without completing any of his chores. And I mean any of them. His room is still littered with the filth of four months of his style of living. And he is completely moved out already. So, he will probably be fined for that. Furthermore, his task was to clean the kitchen counters and take out the trash. Our kitchen counters look exactly the same as ever. Coincidentally, most of the mess is from him. So, he left us (read: me) with that to clean up. If I don’t clean it up, then the whole unit gets fined for his negligence/incompetence.

I’m also concerned about Subject B’s communal chore: cleaning the bathroom. Subject B’s description of clean coincides with an average person’s description of tidy. As long as there is no clutter, something is clean. As long as there is no large chunks of food on the dishes, the dishes are clean. So, I expect to receive a $30 fine for an unclean bathroom some time after the end of the term.

Ugh…well…I got completely sidetracked while writing this update and watched some movie trailers.

All I can say is that I suspect I’ll be cleaning up four residents worth of stuff on Wednesday. And I’ve still got a lot of stuff to do post-exams.

If you’re watching Battlestar Galactica, you know they are in their final season, and you know that it is awesome. You also know that there is only one Cylon left to reveal.

I cannot help but wonder if it is Cally Tyrol. Something about how she said she hasn’t been able to sleep since they got to the Ionian Nebula…it seems like she may have been affected by the same signal that activated the other Four of the Final Five.

It has been all but confirmed that Laura Roslin, Kara Thrace, Lee Adama, Karl Agathon, and William Adama are not Cylons. RDM - showrunner - said that the final Cylon is the person who would be sitting between Lee Adama and Saul Tigh in this image. RDM further confirmed - after some prodding - that this meant that the Final Cylon was not in this image.

Battlestar Galactica Season 4 Cast

If it isn’t Cally, I’m betting on Tom Zarek. He is the only other major character who was not on Galactica (and thus wouldn’t have been drawn to the music and the other Cylons) and he seems to fit the prophetic words of the First Hybrid reasonably well.

At last, they’ve come for me. I feel their lives, their destinies spilling out before me. The denial of the one true path, played out on a world not their own, will end soon enough. Soon there will be four, glorious in awakening, struggling with the knowledge of their true selves. The pain of revelation bringing new clarity and in the midst of confusion, he will find her. Enemies brought together by impossible longing. Enemies now joined as one. The way forward at once unthinkable, yet inevitable. And the fifth, still in shadow, will claw toward the light, hungering for redemption that will only come in the howl of terrible suffering. I can see them all. The seven, now six, self-described machines who believe themselves without sin. But in time, it is sin that will consume them. They will know enmity, bitterness, the wrenching agony of one splintering into many. And then, they will join the promised land, gathered on the wings of an angel. Not an end, but a beginning.

Note: It has been brought to my attention that some of you with weak eyes and weaker hearts have been unable to read this. Here is the text.

As you are aware, there are no several cylon models that appear humans. In fact, they can be very difficult to distinguish from actual humans. For your safety, we have provided this handy chart, detailing 10 ways to identify cylons. If you encounter a cylon, do not approach them or attempt to make contact with them. Notify the nearest Colonial fleet representative, and they will handle the situation. Remember, vigilance is the best defense!

1: Do they ask questions about fleet operations, personnel, ship systems or weapons?

2: Does their spine glow red when they get excited?

3: Have you seen them before, but you know it’s not the same person?

4: Do they seem unusually strong, smart, or self-assured?

5: Do you see them hanging around secured or restricted areas?

6: Do they seem to hear music that no one else can hear?

7: Do they say God instead of Gods?

8: Do they seem unusually fearless, as if death has no meaning for them?

9: Do they exhibit sociopathic behaviour around other humans, especially defenseless children?

10: Are they unusually adept, almost empathic, with machines?

I give up on this whole concept of higher learning.

I’m not cut out for it.

This term, I’m quite confident that I failed both of my first two exams. What is worse is that they were my better courses throughout the term. So, if I did poorly on the likes of Calculus III and Physics, how can I possibly do well on something like Probability (which I know absolutely nothing about).

So, yeah. I cannot do this anymore. I devoted a full week exclusively to studying those two subjects and I did miserably. On Friday I write Number Theory, which I think will go well but - given current trends - I will probably fail it too. Next is Sociology, which is multiple choice and should be a breeze. And finally, Probability. Which will be the final nail in the coffin that is this term.

So…yeah. Given how terrible my marks are, I’m giving up on university. I can’t handle this stress of final exams any longer. I almost threw up in Physics. I was so stressed…I almost threw up. I had to say it again just to emphasize it. I cannot take this. I’m probably going to fail some courses this term and if I’m doing so poorly at the start of my university career, how can I possibly expect to get better as the courses get harder.

No. I can’t keep doing this. So, I’m done. Next term will probably be my last term here. By then, I’ll likely have been kicked out of the Teaching Option because my average is so low, and then there is no point in me being here anyway.

Ugh…

Before I came here, Mr. Smith told my parents during one of those parent-teacher nights that one thing I had to know about the transition from high school to university is that I would go from being a big fish in a small pond to a little fish in a big pond. The problem is, I went from being that big fish to being a retarded fish stranded in the ocean who can only swim in circles. My marks have gone from high-80s and low-90s to borderline passing grades (except for the Arts courses). And I cannot justify a switch into Arts. What the hell do you do with an Arts degree? When I brought this up with my housemates, one of them said, “Hey, the secretary at my dentist’s office has an Arts degree”.

Great. I can resign myself to a life as an administrative assistant. How can this happen? I went from being “the smart one” in my family to borderline failure. I…uh…I just can’t do this anymore. It isn’t worth it handing over thousands upon thousands of dollars that have taken hours upon hours to earn. My life is being flushed down the toilet here. And for what? For what? How can I justify this anymore?

My housemates have all failed courses too. Some of them are dangerously close to being kicked out of the math faculty. I’m not as foolishly optimistic as they are. I’m not going to keep trying to pass the same courses again and again. It isn’t worth it. Nothing is worth this…

So, yeah. Fuck it all. I give up. I throw in the towel. If there is a God, I hope he is happy right now watching me get crushed under the weight of my repetitive failures.