I was watching the new Flash Gordon series on Sci-Fi the other night, and I’m pretty sure it was awful, but I’m not positive because a particularly atrocious piece of dialogue near the beginning caused me to be lost in thought for the rest of the 90 minutes.

In this show’s version of the character, Flash is a marathon runner who lives with his mom.  His ex, Dale Arden, is a television reporter.  He runs into her and says “Dale, you look fantastic.” She shrugs off his compliment, replying “It’s just hair and makeup.”

And I’m like--what? What did she say?  What does that mean?

Is she saying that hair and makeup aren’t important, and that she’s actually not looking all that good?

Or is she saying that since we all know that hair and makeup (well, hair anyway) are crucially important in a person’s appearance, she’s saying that she knows she looks good and that Flash ought to shut the hell up?

There’s actually two ways to look at the situation.  One, the show was written by lobotomized monkeys who couldn’t write a coherent conversation between two fictional characters if their lives depended on it.

Second, the line actually represents a kind of zen koan.  It’s a cosmic riddle, one you ponder endlessly until the mental energy accumulates inside your mind and eventually helps you reach a state of transcendent insight so you can unlock the secrets of the universe.

After due consideration, I’ve decided that option #2 is the correct one.

So if you see me, go ahead and tell me how we’re existential specks of dust, twirling on the head of a pin as we’re blown through the cosmic maelstrom on our way to a rendevous with eternity. I’ll simply shrug and say “It’s just hair and makeup.”