La La La
Dudes, forget the deus ex machina. Forget the fact that the Flying Spaghetti Monster did it. (Remember, that last line about how "it" doesn't like to be called God? FSM, man, FSM. Or maybe alien space bats.)
Forget the great honking "his name was Adam(a) and her name was (mitochondrial) Eve' cliché, and the whole teenage-pregnancy-and-an-early-death picture that paints for Hera's short, unpleasant life.
Forget the ludicrous scenario of your heroes returning to hunter/gatherer living, cause that's not actually the case; they're not breaking up into tribal structures; they're shown going off in pairs or family units at best, and often completely on their own. Abandoning technology, culture, medicine? Shit, these cretins are abandoning society.
Forget about Adama blowing his own brains out after Roslin's death, or Apollo falling down a ravine and dying a slow agonising death trapped down there with his broken femur with nobody to help him, or Chief building a coracle to try and sail to Scotland, only to drown in the English Channel, or Doc Cottle getting about five miles before his emphysema kicks in and the strain of it brings on a heart attack.
Forget the fact that Starbuck is magic! I mean, you've seen that Sarah Silverman "Jesus is magic!" routine, right? The one where she imagines explaining the difference between Judaism and Christianity to a child with "no bias whatsoever". That's the voice I hear that in. "See, mommy believes that Ronald D. Moore has zero respect for the intelligence of his audience, so didn't bother even attempting to resolve the narrative, preferring just to shout, 'Look, it's the Goodyear Bimp!' and run away. And daddy believes that Starbuck is magic!
No, no, no, forget all that. All you need to demonstrate the level of retarded in the BSG finale is one line, from the attack on the Cylon colony:
Apollo: Alpha Team, helmets off.
Heh. I mean, a soldier taking his helmet off before going into battle is retarded. An officer ordering his men to do so is retarded-squared. A writer incapable of seeing the inherent stupidity of this is retarded-cubed. (I mean, it's not even something you need to be gleaning from research, is it? It's not like you have to go and ask real-life soldiers whether, you know, it would be, like, a good idea to remove armour from a prime target before going into battle. You just have to exercise an iota of intellect marginally above that of Homer Simpson. You just have to remember the word "head-shot".) A writer so retarded that they still fail to see the inherent stupidity of this even despite countless war movies and tv series in the history of the modern media where some newbie schmuck takes his helmet off and gets a bullet in the forehead... that's retarded-off-the-fucking-chart.
So, you know, if you're arguing with BSG-finale defenders about whether or not the finale worked on any of those other points, just... don't bother. Really all you need is "Alpha Team, helmets off." Man that's so dumbass, it's a fucking benchmark-of-dumbassity. It should be used henceforth as an idiomatic measuring-stick of imbecilic writing.
"How dumb was that show last night? Man, that was Alpha-Team-helmets-off dumb!"
"Dude, that scored ten out of ten on the Alpha-Team-helmets-off scale!"
"Shit, man, that almost makes Alpha-Team-helmets-off look smart. Almost."
Cause it would have to be almost. Nothing could make that look smart.