Sal and I like to avoid TV shows while they are, er, showing on TV and, instead, like to get them out on DVD and blob out for days on end without the constant stream of adverts and without the delay of a week between episodes.

For many years, people who’s opinions on films I value greatly have been telling me I really ought to get into Battlestar Galactica (BSG). I’ve never been into watching sci-fi but enjoy the occasional well-written sci-fi novel so it made sense to give it a go. And so we did.

Now, for fans of BSG this is probably going to hurt a little. I apologise in advance.

The coolest thing about sci-fi (as compared to, say, fantasy) is that you sort of have to work within the limits of the known laws of physics which is not all that limiting as it leaves the imagination wide open for some really creative concepts. Sure, some boundaries are overstepped, mainly the whole issue of getting around in this giant universe of ours where almost every sci-fi writer will invoke some form of instantaneous zipping from place to place. But, other than these understandable exceptions, most of the concepts should be plausible.

BSG is a bit quirky in that people still use telephones with cords aboard their space craft but are capable of teleporting willy-nilly across the universe. I quite like this aspect though. It works. It’s also got some interesting interplay between characters. And for those who have not already given thought to what makes a human a human and whether a being that is made qualifies there are some intriguing concepts too. However…

A good friend of mine said “the coolest thing is the way the space fights don’t make any noise!!1!”. But, Simon, they do make noise. All the time. Even their little side-puffers make little side-puffing noises. For frack’s sake, they managed to get this right back in 1968. Perhaps the lack of noise is only in comparison with the skwarking of the fighters in Star Wars but they definitely still make noises in the noiseless vacuum of space in BSG.

And what’s with the fact that every bit of paper has it’s corners clipped? Is the printing ship run by bored-but-OCD staff? I’ve operated a guillotine in a print shop and there’s a very valid reason for why books and other forms of paper have corners.

There is a scene where Lee has landed on a windy and forsaken planet and is dragged along the ground by his parachute, painfully hitting his legs against rocks. He struggles to cut the cords of his parachute and finally manages to do so before breaking any more bones. You can feel his sense of relief. I turned to Sal and said, “well there’s something, if this had been any other cheesy sci-fi he’d have narrowly avoided a massive precipice”. I spoke too soon. Right then the camera pans out and up… strike three, you’re out.

So, I’ve reached the end of season one. Sal abandoned it halfway through but I feel I’ve given it a fair trial.

And in the red corner. We’ve just got out the first DVD of season one of Dexter, we’re only two episodes in and we’re hooked. Dexter is a sociopath (or is that psychopath? I never remember the difference) who lacks feelings but charmingly, yet insightfully, understands the social niceties ordinary people need to get along. Oh, and he butchers people who’ve (literally) gotten away with murder.

I feel a little bad for bagging BSG. It’s got a lot going for it and my frustrations are slightly exaggerated for the sake of the telling. But, alas, it’s up against Dexter for a share of our viewing time and Dexter has neatly dismembered BSG and kept a drop of its blood on a slide as memorabilia.

Dexter wins.

In 1973 the BBC released a TV documentary series in 13 episodes by mathematician Jacob Bronowski called The Ascent Of Man. 35 years later I purchased it as a DVD box set on the recommendation of a fellow science documentary aficionado.

It’s extremely good! And I’m not just saying that in the context of the era in which it was produced. Sure, some of the music grates on the nerves and some of the graphics don’t compare to what we are capable of these days but overall it’s got a depth that is often missing from the kind of documentaries found on the Discovery Channel. Actually, I take back my comment about the music; it features music from Meddle – my second-favourite Pink Floyd album – which, for me, redeems a multitude of musical sins.

Bronowski is thoughtful, poetic and very deliberate in every sentence. He gives you the feeling that he is treating you, the viewer, as an equal throughout and he conveys a sense of awe that is impossible to resist.

Most moving for me was a scene where Bronowski is visiting a Nazi concentration camp where many of his relatives were murdered. According to the interview with Attenborough in the bonus material the entire scene was spontaneous and filmed in a single take:

Bronowski died a year later of a heart attack at the age of 66.

A couple of weeks ago I purchased Carl Sagan’s 1979 TV series, Cosmos on DVD. Actually, it aired in 1980 but was filmed in 1979 and 1979 sounds way cooler than 1980.

It totally rocks!

Sure, he’s wearing beige and, sure, there has been progress in astronomy since the series was produced but I found myself learning plenty of new stuff with every episode. (Did you know that Eratosthenes calculated the earth’s circumference to within a margin of 5-10% back in 240BCE?).

What I love about the scientific method is that when done properly you present the facts as best you know them but remain open to future discoveries and you also disclose known weaknesses. In this series at the end of many of the episodes Sagan appears (looking greyer) with a “10 years later update” and very little of the original content needed revision. The only bit that stands out is that in one of the episodes he presents some of the experiments showing the creation of organic molecules in the laboratory and 10 years later added that they now believe it’s likely that the organic molecules may have formed in the icy bodies of comets.

Also, this was produced at a very uncertain time when the threat of all-out nuclear war seemed quite possible and many of his comments about the future of the human race are bracketed with “if we don’t destroy ourselves first”.

This series is a brilliant way to get an excellent perspective on our place in history and in the universe. It’s factual, balanced and remarkably well-produced. They even managed to avoid the temptation to use the snazzy synthesised music of the era (or is that ‘error’?) and instead opted for tasteful classical music.

Sagan had a very broad understanding of our universe and had a knack for presenting it in an extremely digestible way. With that understanding came an enthusiasm that remains contagious even after his death.

If you come across this series in your video store or for sale in a shop I’d encourage you to do yourself a favour and pick it up. And if you know me (this includes Dale, Ken, Frank and Jack), give me a yell if you want to borrow it and I’ll get it to you.