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I'll Keep an Eye Out For You
by Paul Waldowski
On the one hand, the current Col. Tigh from Battlestar Galactica is just a bitter, washed-up, one-eyed drunk of a bastard who's of no real use to anyone but the person who manages to grow grains on spaceships and ferment them into sweet, sweet brown liquor. On the other hand, Tigh's a useful reality check to anyone who's feeling too good or too damned sentimental. I wish I had a Tigh at work, sometimes. I'm too much of an Adama. I could really use a good Tigh...
Subordinate: "Hey, my daughter's sick and my wife's out of town. Can I go and take her to the hospital?"
I could see the advantages a one-eyed drunk would have. Hubris would be a thing of the past.
Section wins prestigious quarterly award. We're happy.
Subordinate: "See? I told you we're the fucking hotness! Eat it, fuckles! Fucking eat it!"
Having stamped out goldbricking and arrogance, Tigh would quickly move on to useless bitching.
Student: "I don't see why we have to wear these gay-ass safety glasses. They're so scratched up I can't see shit. They're fucking useless."
The Architect: "Ergo, vis-a-vis, anomaly, construct, ergo."
"And speaking of eyes, do you know what they did to my eye?!"
Paul slowly getting more in touch with his "Tigh" side.