Your mission is to find shots that convey the beauty and wonder that is Atlantis along with the darkness of soul that is Atlantis--in four beats.  Yuh huh.  So I settled on a pretty shot of Atlantis, beauty and wonder, yeah.  And then John, poking at the chair in Antarctica,  with its funky, liqui-gel handrests.  Darkness looms behind--and now before our hero--he just doesn't realize it yet.

They first met the Wraith as a child's nightmare, only to find out that there really were “mad clowns” out there.  Who'd believe soul vampires?  And also, because this is John's nightmare:  be to be paralyzed and helpless while the Wraith threaten his “family.”

John pulling a gun on his “pod-friends” because nothing is ever what it seems in the Pegasus Galaxy--and because you have to be very careful who you get close to out here.  The Genii seemed to be friends at first; the Wraith in “Common Ground” turned out to be an honorable foe, even when it looked as if he wasn't.

And Sumner--John had to be thinking of Sumner at that moment, and Gaul, and Everett... all the others who'd gone that way, but Sumner was the first.  They're all the same to the Wraith: food.

And maybe he doesn't, but if he sees that something has to be done, John will step forward and do that something.  He's not going to sit around and wait for the whyfors and wherefores to be debated; he's going to do what's necessary at the time and take care of those who are depending on him--just like he did in Misbegotten.

John as an Ancient--or is he?  The expedition came to discover the secrets of the Ancients and John's the closest thing to an Ancient on the team.  But it's never that simple--and the expedition's original mandate is more than a little confused and getting more confused as time passes.

Earth, the SGC, Landry, all want him to sing their song, but John's singing along to his own song now--and taking those who are willing to hear this song with him.  But along with the excitement of discovery, Atlantis is a ticket to destruction in so very many ways--and in the end, is it self-destructive or self-sacrificing?

Oh, Carson.  Carson, Carson, Carson...

No, this genetically modified seed didn't exactly go to plan.  But even if the seed is no good, Carson still feels compassion for it--or is it simply the fascination of the project ahead of him?

I'm sorry, this line just HAD to go with Carson pushing the “egg-collector” on a buggy John.  The image and the line are so right for each other that it can be read as either poignant or ironic--or just funny.  Maybe it's a case of laughing in order not to cry?

Carson and his genetics, Carson and the seeds for his “greatest” experiement--“greatest” having shades of meaning beyond “good.”

Carson was so very lost at this point in the story--I just don't think he realized how lost until Michael had him pinned like an insect in a display case.

Michael wanted him to sing along, and now so does John--and Carson doesn't want to, but events are out of his control and he has no choice, either time.

The look of near-lust on Carson's face there.  He's giving Elizabeth his first report on his first Wraith dissection--and he's absolutely enthralled by the actual mechanics of his discovery--and it's the start of his slide into the ethical morass of Season 2 and the beginning of Season 3.  Barosso: as always, it's the innocents that pay the price of any encounter with the Wraith--and any mistakes the team makes.

In spite of everything, Carson was the heart of the expedition, their conscience, the evidence of their compassion--which made it all the scarier when he went down in their ethical morass.  But he was still the one who could see the enemy as something besides “the other”, and those left behind know that they have lost much more than just a friend.

Lizzie and all the ways she's forced into her own worlds, to stand out front, by herself, fighting alone for life and sanity and her team--and Atlantis.

Good diplomat that she is, she won't sacrifice Atlantis for anyone, no matter who they are.

Because it's never just about the storm outside, and it's never about just Elizabeth--she's got the entire Expedition to get through this storm

Iratus bugs, genetic experiments gone awry, you wish it was a joke.  And going back to Atlantis--the team is a joke in many ways to the SGC, the redheaded stepchild.  And yet, even if it kills them, they will go home to Atlantis and face their demon clowns.

At that point, once she stepped through the gate and left Atlantis, she had nothing--no future, no goals, no life.  She has become Atlantis herself, and being forced out breaks her.

This can go so many ways.  Who's mad, Elizabeth, or Niam; the team, or the Asurans?  The Asurans hold that the new Lanteans are as guilty as the Ancients were.  But the new Lantean administration would argue otherwise.  Yet are they?

Of course, it all depends on your definition of fun...but we all know they are clever.  And Elizabeth is very much the “other Queen” in this scenario, and the Wraith recognises her as such--so, clown.

Grodin.
Ford.
Carson.

And then there's Dumais, Gaul, Abrams, all the other red shirts--it's a high price they've paid to remain in the Pegasus Galaxy.

I think this speaks for itself--doubt, grief, sadness--and the loss of more than just one man over the years.  Loss of innocence...and there is so very little soul-searching that goes on where we can see it, except for scenes like this, when they just can't pretend any more that it's all for glory and discovery.  The Stargate and Atlantis are eating them out, soul first.

Elizabeth, interrogating Kavanaugh, about to make one of the most questionable choices of her career--this is what she's come to in Pegasus. Compare to Teyla, adapted to life here, celebrating death as an honor, and whose song are we supposed to be singing along to?  And the Stargate and Atlantis slurp up more souls.

Poor Collins from Trinity.  Because even when they think they're getting it right, they're either only half right, or wrong entirely, or someone dies.  Again, high prices to everything they've done here, everything they've gained.

And the Stargate and Atlantis have slurped up even more souls--and has the expedition totally lost its way?

And yet, every time they leave, every time they turn away, Atlantis calls them back.  She cannot let go of them any more than they can let go of her--no matter how unreasonable the demand or the cost.

Michael speaks very eloquently for himself.  Carson and Perna--who is right and who is wrong, the man from the Milky Way galaxy and a world that has not been shaped by the Wraith and their cullings, or the woman and a people desperate for any chance for victory against this enemy, however high the cost?  Whose “right” takes precedence over the other?

The astrophysicist and the M.D., civilians both, fighting over the assault weapon.  No, I don't think they know what they're here for, not at this point.

And maybe, maybe if they had listened to the natives, to those who knew the Pegasus Galaxy in the first place, things would have been easier on everyone?  Or did the Athosians and other natives need to see people who hadn't been shaped by the Wraith, who don't know how to stop fighting until they either are destroyed or come out on top?   Is it too late tofor anyone to change their tune, and whose tune is changing to match the other?

Because Carson knows this may kill him, but he has to do it anyway--and because he is in control this time.  He's not going to let anyone take this man's life away from him.

And because John and Elizabeth and Rodney and the others will do anything, anything to get Atlantis back--no matter how She may destroy them in the end.

John with Keras and the little girl: Because he's not nor is the rest of the expedition monsters, they're human--and sometimes they are heroes.  And sometimes, they crash, and even if it's a tiny crash, it can sink them--and Atlantis and the Pegasus Galaxy with them.  They don't play for small stakes, our team.  And even if they do everything right, they may still sink under the weight of their decisions.