And Catherine Tate wasn't bad at all. And Bernard Cribbins was in it too! Fantastic.
My first ever post is up at the glorious Pop Vultures! Click here to read my profound thoughts on the crapness of Kylie in this year's Doctor Who Christmas special.
And in other thrilling news, my bread turned out pretty well! Slightly denser than I would have liked, but still, very fluffy and delicious and it smells absolutely fantastic. I feel ridiculously proud of myself.
Oh, and happy new year!
Is it just me who thinks that the music probably known by the producers as "Martha's theme" or something along those lines is absolutely beautiful and bizarrely catchy (I find myself humming it regularly)? It's in 3/4 time and has the sort of melody that my mild synesthesia would describe as "purplely blue and pink" - probably not a helpful description to most people, I admit. Anyone know if it's possible to download any of the incidental music? Google hasn't given me anything so far...
( Spoilers, of course )
There's nothing weird about me being wrong, though.
You can say that again.
The last few seasons of the U.S. version -- ever since 9/11 -- have involved secret conspiracies and double-agent tricks: twins switching out for each other, secret preexisting relationships, old romantic failures that erupt into violence. Not knowing who your neighbors are. Wolves at the door.
You're talking about Big Brother, for the love of God! Lay off the bad-poetry speak!
And he gets those eyes, above the grin, with all the love in the world: "Dead sweet!" I like the Doctor.
Good for you! Ugh.
He nods at a solid black wall: "Isn't there supposed to be a garden out there?" Not since Adam and Eve. Maybe before. I knew his nightmare was being stuck in a box.
WHAT? What does that even mean? He's mad! MAD!
I told you that I saw "The Christmas Invasion," "The Empty Child," and "The Doctor Dances" on New Year's, and "the beginning of the Big Brother one." And it was at this point, bless them, that LisaDiane and Joey look at each other, in the dark, over my sweet little head, and said in unison, "no." And Joey turned this shit right off. Made the hairs on my neck stand up, because how deep or awful could this possibly go, right? So deep, so awful, and I'm glad they did, as we'll see by the end of this episode.
It's Dr Who, not Primo Levi. Get a hold of yourself, man.
I was just out of college and going through my whole Baader-Meinhof period
*Sighs* I don't know whether to laugh or cry. Are we meant to believe that Jacob formed a socialist terrorist gang and tried to blow up a publishers and got sent to prison and then escaped and held an embassy hostage? Or is he just a pretentious buffoon? I wish the prison part was true, anyway. We probably wouldn't be reading these godawful recaps then.
Strood and Lynda hold their arms to make an archway for her to walk through. That's pretty cool. All we have like that is Tailhook. I imagine when the house is full it's a pretty interesting feeling to walk through that human arch. I bet you feel loved, or something. In the American version, there's a ritual when the eviction nominees are revealed, in which a box is revolved around the dinner table and the first person receives his housekey (like with the TARDIS, it means that you can stay), and then pulls out another key, which they hand to the person with the ritual phrase, "Strood. You are safe." That ritual is my favorite part of the whole show, because I like the words and the repetition of safety and hearth, but also because the person who puts the keys into the box determines the order, so you can point out people's secret alliances by making them tell each other they're safe, or make people sweat it out until the end, and that's like the most beautiful form of art to me.
You know, every time I think he can't reveal himself to be even more of a pompous arse, he starts going on about the beauty of human relationships and keys and ancient rituals and he proves me wrong.
Now, this bit is long, but it's just so appalling that I think it must be quoted in full, although I'm not sure my critical powers are up to disecting it.
I won't go to the broken-camera place again exactly, except: when we line up every week to watch these people die -- when one single episode where nobody dies is reason to dance -- isn't the difference that they're something fictional? And wouldn't Strood's blasé reply tell you that this is the same thing? I don't want to be trite, but I do feel like there's a point to routing every third angle through the surveillance cameras. Number one being that in a surveillance culture, everyone's a star, but also: if Rose died, wouldn't that make you sad? Sadder than if Lynda with a "Y" died, for example? And when people die on the news, how sad is that? You can't feel every death like it's your grandma, but the horror here compared to that is not across a gap; it's just a matter of degree. I'm not taking a moral stand, just saying the exaggeration in this story isn't located precisely where I thought it was, because the truth still stands that if you're not tasting your entertainment with your whole tongue, you're starving and it's your own fault.
Oh God. Look, I've wept over TV programmes - I've been reduced to a snotty, sobbing heap by TV programmes - but yes, the difference between my reaction to Buffy killing Angel and my reaction to, say, my Aunt Peggy dying was a matter of A FUCKING HUGE DEGREE. Just because I don't actually go into mourning at the death of fictional characters doesn't mean that I don't really appreciate art or entertainment. I don't know how Jacob manages to reduce me to the sort of wanker who goes "for fuck's sake, it's not real" at someone's emotional reaction to fiction, but he does. Cheers, Jacob. You knob.
Just like bad stuff's never as bad as you think, the unarmed are never as helpless as you think.
Um, yes, in fiction. You want to go tell that to someone in a concentration camp, Jake? Didn't his "Baader-Meinhof period" teach him anything?
verybody with a TV in the UK pays their license, which is more than you'd think, and that's why British TV is good. I have had it explained to me any number of times, and I still don't get exactly how it works, but that's it: own a TV, turn it on, pay your license.
You don't get how it works? You pay your money and it goes to the BBC! Which isn't the only channel in the UK, Jacob, you moron. Jesus.
Who's the Demiurge to the Controller's Archon? Who's the Fake Bastard God that's got the world convinced it's real this time? Whom of all the evils in the universe and time and space is the Doctor going to have to smack the shit out of this time, and play Milton's Lucifer to?
*weeps*
These Ahriman tales, they always end up with the God stuck inside the prison he created. So I guess the question is: is the Doctor strong and smart and good enough to turn Lucifer on his own ass? Of course he is! He's awesome! Or if you like the Gnostic story better: who's going to be the Sophia that breaks it all back down into divinity?
Oh good, those Ancient Mythology and Comparative Religions classes you took for one term in college paid off. You're not actually impressing anyone, you know.
Even as they're cuffing him, he looks at the dust of Rose, and weeps silently. Security gives a speech, it goes unheard. Half of him is gone.
Wow, that's so poetic. It's about...something beginning with 'i'?
Jack enters the room, and finds the TARDIS standing there. He fits the key into the lock (SEE?) and enters.
Christ, he must have a fit of excitement at the profound symbolism every time he lets himself into his house. SOMETIMES A KEY IS JUST A KEY.
I've got this feeling that the "Long Game" recap might be the best one, in addition to being my favorite episode
Well, it's not like the standard is high. Also, I shudder at the thought of what he'll present us with next week, because I have a feeling that his idea of "best recap" and my idea of "best recap" are very different things.
The reason I was so taken with my Gnostic and Zoroastrian stories in "Long Game" was because I like the subversive take on Lucifer as Redeemer: that if you're trapped in the maze with the Devil, and the Devil wants out, then who is the bad or good guy? And isn't "God" just a fake out for the real God? Ask Milton. But I doubt that's how it'll shake out, like I said. I can't see this show going to the Goddess of Truth vs. the Imperfect Watchmaker route. Still, it's nice to fantasize. Especially given this latest development of the Doctor setting himself up as the False God and seeing how wrong things went for his little insignificant ordinary people, that didn't manage to work it out. Things that go "click" make me feel very smart and I like to feel smart.
You don't say! Wanker. Good thing he also makes sure we all know how smart he is, eh viewers?
If I wrote it, the light of the TARDIS would factor in, but that's just because I've been obsessed since "Father's Day" with the TARDIS as an angel, (aggelos, messenger, minister of grace), as a connection to the true God that is Everything, the infinity of timespace and everything that ever was or will be, in its complex wonder.
I hate him, I hate him, I hate him. I wish I could be more coherent but this is all just so very, very terrible and precious and hateful.
On the plus side, only one more to go! Hurrah!
And I absolutely adored the fact that the street where all the scary 1953 Coronation goings-on were taking place was called Florizel Street. Why? Because that was the original name of Coronation Street before it actually aired. A deliciously perfect in-joke.
It's so progressive, and loving and hopeful. So focused on the good of us, as people, in the face of war and pain. If the spirit of twenty-first century Great Britain is half this joyful, half this hopeful and strong, I think we'll all be okay. No sundowns just yet.
Land of hope and glory....oh, I'm sorry, where was I? Oh yes, writing about a TELEVISION PROGRAMME. Idiot.
And so, on with the recap of the recap!
The Doctor goes to that place he goes, where the smile fades and the fear that always comes out as rage appears
You know, I wish I could think of more pithy responses to this shit than "oh, fuck off", but sadly that's all I can say about this terrible line.
episode by Steven Moffat -- whose dialogue I find routinely clunky and overly emphatic, but whose stories are touched with grace and triumph, and a love so sad that you're not really sure why you're crying.
And this one. Also, I'd just like to note that Jacob is certainly an expert on all things "clunky and overly emphatic".
she says his name and slides down the wall to sob, while the clock ticks. It's only a matter of time.
Do you see what he did there? Clocks? Only a matter of time? It's so clever!
The Empty Child wants. It's a running theme, this confusion of what you are with what you do: most of the time it's zombies, motivated by their last desire, or by the desires of something higher, or used as masks for other desires. One in ten bad guys isn't doing it for the money. But in this context, in the context of the show, I don't think it's the usual form/function binary. I know I've been hitting the Aurelius and Augustine ("The Angelic Doctor"!) a bit hard the last few weeks, but try this.
Oh God, do I have to? All right.
I rediscovered it while I was writing something about Battlestar, in Epictetus ("The Acquired"): "First, decide who you would be. Then, do what you must do." And given that so much of what goes on in these stories is the direct result of people doing shit they shouldn't be doing, I wonder if the point isn't closer to this: that being a zombie is the default setting, and that you have to choose to be more. If you met the Doctor, you'd want to give him a hug. Possibly a kiss with tongue. But if you read his résumé? Madman. Warrior. Killer of peoples, of worlds, of heroes, and soldiers. A living genocide. Nine is about the choice: whom would you be? Then, what must you do? The Doctor distrusts Jack, but he loves Nancy for the same reason. Her heroism and apparent selflessness in the end of the world. How could he do less?
Wank, wank, wankity wank. I hope he's got a big box of tissues. Sorry about that last bit.
The reels of the tape spin and tick-tock. It's a matter of time.
Oh God. I have a horrible feeling that "it's a matter of time" is going to be the new "it's about intimacy". And I don't like it!
Rose explains to Captain Jack, like a lover, like a sister, or a mother
What? Or like a neighbour, like a casual aquaintance, like someone on his livejournal friends list? Or like some other collection of random nouns relating to interpersonal relationships, all of which have nothing particularly to do with what Rose is actually saying to Captain Jack? Whats' wrong with Jacob? Seriously, I want to know!
Who needs a gun when you've got a screwdriver? Who needs to shoot when you can build? Why violence when violence doesn't solve mysteries? The Doctor's not a pacifist in the usual way; he just knows timespace in the Einsteinian sense: all of a piece.
This is just....I can't....the horror....I'm sorry, this is just TOO SHIT! *starts to cry*
Rose points out that there are also "no uvver exits."
Chim-chiminy, chim-chiminy, chim-chim-cherooo!
There's a whole Excellent breakdown
I'd just like to note that this new "putting a capital letter at the start of the word excellent" tic is incredibly irritating. "Excellent Question"! "Excellent breakdown"! Just stop it.
She asks him whether he "finks" that Jack is coming back
It's a jolly 'oliday with Maaaary! Also, fuck off, Jacob.
So come on: the world doesn't end because the Doctor dances." This is the second time modus tollens/modus ponens has come up in the last three days. Why? "The world doesn't end" when/just because "the Doctor dances." But also, and better: the world doesn't end because the Doctor dances.
I am almost vibrating with irritation now. Or perhaps I'm just in awe of Jacob's profound thoughts? There's a fine line. It's about intimacy.
And, knowing history as we do, doesn't that make her a reminder? An angel of pride and what happens next?
What? Yes, Rose wearing a union jack t-shirt in 1941 makes her an "angel of pride". Good Lord.
But you meet the Doctor, and then you redeem yourself. Those are the rules.
If only those rules included the words "thou shalt not write pompous and moronic recaps". But apparently they don't.
You win." And how? The spirit of the Blitz. By becoming stronger than the thing that's coming. A mouse too small to fight can roar. Lions make the best mothers.
Um, don't lions - like most animals - have sex with their own children once they've grown up? I'm not sure that makes them candidates for this "best mother" title. Also, that "mouse too small to fight can roar" stuff is nonsense in the context of WW2. The Battle of Britain wasn't won by just roaring.
God's grace is the reminder that you always have been free -- it's just the default setting to be too afraid to reach for it -- and the gentle push that turns you around to face it. God's grace is a day like this, a genocide redeemed in a single day where no one dies. When the Doctor gets objective evidence that what he's chosen to be is informed by his actions, a well-formed equation, and he's reminded that he can dance again. That he never forgot how. This show is not fucking around.
You know, when I actually saw this episode, I was crying like a big baby at the bit when Nancy hugged the empty child and admitted she was his mummy. It was really moving. And yet reading this I wish they'd all just dropped down dead just so Jacob didn't have an opportunity to write this SHITE.
It's sketchy in that sci-fi way, and it pings my natural hatred of the dominant paradigm about who's driving the bus and how old you have to be, who's got the "superior information," but: I don't piss on grace.
I can think of some things (or rather "fings") I'd like to piss on. Jacob's computer, for one.
But the spirit of the Blitz is the spirit of love -- strong, no-bullshit love.
Christ, has he even read anything about London in the '40s? There are lots of things that you can say about the Blitz, but it's pretty fucking facile to describe what got people through it simply as "love".
It's too late. The bomb ticks, like the empty tape, like the clock at the Lloyds', like anything you can't ignore. It's a matter of time.
I knew it! Oh God.
It's a mixture of a home and a car, which are the two most intimate possible places you can be because that's where you always are.
Speak for yourself. Christ, what does he do all day, sit at home and then drive around the block for an hour? I wouldn't be surprised, frankly.
And that's it, bar a few more idiotic lion references. So finally, I would like to say that this episode of Doctor Who and its predecessor were absolutely wonderful. They were very, very scary, they were pretty funny, and I cried like a big baby at the end. However, not once does Jacob convey either the funniness or the scariness or indeed the emotional impact, because he's so busy showing off his purple prose and idiotic undergraduate theories. It's not all about you, Jacob! Or time and intimacy, come to that. Especially not time and intimacy.
In case you're not feeling the slap of pure joy across your face, let's reiterate: Just this once, grace is built from freedom and love, instead of horror and blood and pain like usual. Just this once, nobody dies. Just this once: the Doctor dances.
I should add that when that episode aired, I was weeping away myself at the end. However, these appalling words have retrospectively destroyed all my pleasure in it. The awesome power of bad writing! Can you just imagine how bad the recap will be? Don't worry, I'll let you know...
Rose: "What exactly is this fing?"
Oh, fuck off.
Yes, we begin this week's festival of pompous moronitude with Annoying Tic Number One, the "phonetically rendered foreign accent". But there's more hilarious "look at those funny foreigners" nonsense to come!
"Mummy," if you didn't know, is British for "Mommy." Weirdly, they call reanimated Egyptian Pharoahs "Mortimers" over there. I don't get it either.
Oh, the unfunniness. And seriously, if there's anyone so stupid that they can't figure out that "Mummy" equals "mommy", they probably can't read.
"For nobody else gave me the thrill/ when I have found I love you still/ it had to be you, wonderful you..." The only place you can get milk is Earth; the only person who can save the Ninth Doctor is Rose; this kid only has one Mummy, and Rose isn't it. It had to be you.
Thanks for just RUINING ONE OF MY FAVOURITE SONGS with your pretentious wanker-ness, arsehole.
Is Rose, like, allergic to fear? Any second now she's going to start that whole "This is just a joke being played on me by my high-school rugby team, isn't it?" spiel.
Christ almighty, if you're writing about it for an international audience, at least make a freaking attempt to understand the country you're supposedly such a fan of, Mr "I watch unfunny middle-aged sitcoms watched by no one under the age of 50 on this side of the Atlantic, therefore I am an Anglophile". The fic writers who post questions on HP Britglish can do it, why can't you? Just because, as
![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
wonderlanded pointed out, you think that rugby is so incredibly British that it is the exact cultural equivalent of American football in the US, doesn't mean that this is the case. And, the other reason for my annoyance at this line is (a)"High school"? and (b) the chances of an inner city London school having a rugby team at all are slim."It's just, there's this thing I need to find, would've fallen from the sky a couple of days ago..." That's like classic comedy, if somewhat British.
What the...? What does that even mean? Can't something British be classic comedy? Why the "if"?
he says it's a "fair point," and...no. It's a "good point," or a "fair argument," but it's not a "fair point." I realize he's not actually American, but that's no excuse.Oh, so other people should check local idoms on the internet, but not you?
And then the Doctor: "Thanks, miss!" Lots of appearing and disappearing in this episode. It's evocative.
Thanks for telling us! Could it also be...I dunno...about intimacy? Just a hunch.
I don't presume to know anything about U.K. culture, or the Commonwealth. I'm just a stupid American.
Well, as Jesus would say, "it is you who say it".
"Brother?" asks the Doctor. Indeed. I'm quite partial to stories about just one guy, on the ship or the boat or whatever -- just that one guy who's left, and what it takes, and where do you get the strength to be that guy? And with Constantine and Nancy, that's two small heroes nobody knows about except us. Brother indeed.
When he talks about nobility and the heroic nature of the Doctor and that sort of thing, it's exactly as touching, profound and inspiring as 'Hero' by Mariah Carey. And has the same effect on my nerves.
And then...well, I was actually thinking that this week's recap was a bit blah. That while not actually good or interesting or funny, it wasn't quite as actively skin-crawlingly shit as usual. But! He was saving the best until last, for behold this quite impressively dreadful paragraph. Watch out, it's long...
I wanted to mention that last week was about reconnecting with the father -- the real father; the man behind the mask. And there's a way in which this story -- the Doctor as the Orphan of Gallifrey, losing Rose to a better version of himself, identifying his own existential need to survive through heroism in Nancy's activities, the ego in survivor guilt -- dances around motherhood in a much less direct way. But it's not just about finding your mother -- it's also about claiming your power. Being the mother. The mother that would roar and would not let Hitler take her, or her children. About Nancy's need to mother those around her, while this beastly child is begging her for the same. About the way Nancy and the Doctor are more alike than anything -- and maybe Rose and Captain Jack are the same; maybe they're just looking for somebody to tell them what to do, or tell them that they're wrong -- but there's no power in doing so. Again, the characters (doubled this time) are confronted with decisions they can't reasonably be asked to make, sacrifices no one should have to make, and again -- like saving Pete Tyler, pushing out into the street beside him before it's too late -- learning that grace is what enables you to get there. And that the dividends are miraculous. So don't be worried. You can be scared, but don't be worried.
But I am worried! Worried that if I read any more of this bollocks, which reads, as ever, like something out of a crappy college literary magazine, I will become so enraged that I have a heart attack and die. And my last thoughts will not be, as the writer intended, "wow, it's true, grace is what enables me to get to a miraculous state of heroism". It will be, "why did I read that terrible nonsense?"
But wait! There's more!
I think the Doctor dreams of being alone, locked in a cellar or a glass house, with no way out. I think the Doctor dreams in Dalek voices.
Wow, that's beautiful. Or it would be if it didn't sound like a lyric from a '70s prog rock song.
I think that this season (this Doctor) is about being an orphan -- about war taking everything away. Every single thing. And I think that the Doctor is about preserving that last spark of himself, that individuality, beyond extinction. Saving himself by saving the world, just like Peter Tyler.
Oh, he's Peter now, is he? You're so...so gracious, Jacob, giving such retrospective dignity to FICTIONAL CHARACTER. And lest we forget, Pete Tyler's own wife didn't call him Peter.
So I think, by any stretch, he's being a champ here, because all he wants to do is love that child, that orphan, and, by doing so, redeem himself. Which is hard to do when the person you're looking to protect, whether it's in the Blitz or 2012 Utah or the Victorian era, turns out to be the thing you're most afraid of, because you can't run from your mistakes. You'll always get your hand bitten by the dog you abused. And I think that if this week is a basic horror story, then next week is a story of wonder, of grace -- which is what the Doctor most deserves. This is a show about earning that grace, and the show always goes the distance to do that, if nothing else. And I have this feeling that, next week, he'll maybe get to dance.
Do you? Do you really? Can it be true? Just FUCK OFF, and take your first-year-in-college-introduction-to-Fr
My friend Karen remarked yesterday on how very large the Doctor is, and how very small Rose is, in terms of time and our understanding of time.
OH GOD.
I resisted, last week, during the whole Gnostic rant, pointing out that the maintenance and restoration of the divine is another word for what some people might, in the realm of the personal, call "therapy." You take a wish or a lie and break it open; you accept the ugly things about it, and that lets the light out, which brings you closer to God. The reason I resisted saying this, of course, is that you're bound to go to a bullshit New Age therapy place when I say it, and I would ask that you hear me out. I've never been in therapy -- which should be bloody obvious by now -- but I have had some wishes come true. It's never a good thing.
I have a wish too, and I believe it would be a very good thing if it came true. My wish is that you, Jacob, would stop writing these fucking terrible recaps of programmes I love, and let someone with a sense of humour and the ability to write recaps that don't cause me to wince so much I sprain muscles I didn't know I had write the recaps instead.
That seems a little high-concept even for old RTD. Well, no, that's exactly what I would have done in college -- let the story interrogate itself from the inside to prove how very clever I was -- so it's possible.
Bwahahahahaha! Hate to break it to you, mate, but you're still doing quite a lot to prove how very clever you (allegedly) are.
Well, I'm talking out of my ass again, and I promised not to do that. (...And this time I swear I won't! Heh.)
Oh, if only I could believe you! Also, making jokes about what a pompous arse you are doesn't mean that you're not actually a pompous arse.
ome horrible monsters, then, too. Like a pissy Doctor wouldn't be trouble enough. (It's hard to be hilarious this week; let me have my fun.)
Dude, when are you hilarious in your other Who recaps? Seriously?
Like a boy, he says this.
If you mean "he says this like a boy", than write that. Because that stylistic tic wasn't impressive in a school essay when you were 15, and it's not impressive now.
He very deliberately takes out Rose's key (the key gets more play, have you noticed, in boy/girl episodes -- things going into people's heads, coming out of people's heads, daughters giving life to their own fathers, and always this key)
Or maybe they just have to, I dunno, OPEN A DOOR?
"My eyes, Jackie's attitude...you sound like her when you shout." Rose swallows. This tiny church, you know? This dusty place.
Wow, yeah, I do know. That's so evocative.
So, so intensely he says this. So sad, and scared, and getting it done. He's very strong, the Doctor. I like him.
Oh my God. This is just so, so awful. I almost never encounter writing so bad it actually makes me want to punch the writer in the face, but this does the trick.
Billie Piper does this thing I really like sometimes, where she wants to tell you, but she's holding back, and her eyes are so open and so clear, and there's a little laugh at one side of her mouth, and she's beautiful, and that's the thing she does now.
!!!! It just gets worse!
You can't cut yourself off from that much of yourself -- him or her either -- and expect to have a working connection to the infinite. Right? You can't hate yourself, if maintenance and restoration of the design are your responsibility: as above, so below. And the TARDIS connects everything, and the key connects you to the TARDIS. These people should know better, what? It's about intimacy.
*collapses into a weeping heap*
The short version for those who don't want to click on the cut: I absolutely and utterly loved it. Sniff.
- Mood:delighted
It's about intimacy, interaction; the quality of how you choose to spend your time -- and what you do with the information. It's about intimacy.
OH GOOD SWEET JESUS, he's at it again. Is it really "about intimacy"? Really? How fascinating and insightful. And then goes on for an entire page about Gnostic mythology and really, I'm as geeky as the next person and I love reading intelligent academic essays on pop culture, but....IT'S DOCTOR FUCKING WHO! Christ.
Something above roars. Like a lion, like a God.
Or like a big scary CGI monster that's there to send us running behind the sofa rather than waffling on pompously about Zoroastrian myths? Seriously, this is some of the worst writing I've ever read in my life. It is truly, truly atrocious. It's so bad it actually enrages me. And yet I keep coming back each week, like a masochist!
- Mood:
enraged
The Doctor: "An old friend of mine. ...Well, enemy." The Doctor stares, lost in thought. You can be both. It's about intimacy.
Or it's about the sort of pseudo-profound writing that should only appear in college literary magazines. Then, like, 20 pages later:
...and inside the sphere the Dalek explodes, and then there's nothing. And the Doctor stares, because that's him too. And because there's a way in which he's more alone now than before, and he didn't even know it until it was too late. It's about intimacy.
OH MY GOD HE IS REFERING TO HIS OWN CRAPPY CLUNKY CHEESEY POMPOUS LINES! I CAN'T TAKE IT! Too, too dreadful.
Of course, this isn't helped by the fact that my sister and I are sending each other texts like "the midget is the baby's......daddy!" and "How do YOU know Chuck and Rufus?" We are enabling each other's addiction.
Speaking of addiction, new Doctor Who! ( It was great. ) Also, in the episode commentary on the BBC website, David Tennant says that he wanted the Doctor to wear specs all the time but the powers that be said no. So he was glad to get to wear specs in this episode, especially because he wanted the doctor to be "the hero for all the speccy kids in school, because I was one of those speccy kids so it means a lot to me." Awwwww.
Oh, and I had a scrambled egg on toast after all. Huzzah for eggs!
In fact, new Doctor Who was the icing on a veritable cake of a day, which began with a lazy and delicious brunch in Dun Laoghaire with Patsington, followed by a stroll down the pier and a trip to M&S to stock up on lovely food and wine. Then we spent an afternoon on the couch reading and drinking tea and talking rubbish and listening to Gilberto Gil and Os Mutantes. Then there was delightful Doctor Who. And now we are going to eat the food and drink the wine and watch Sullivan's Travels on DVD. Everyday ife doesn't really get much better than this.
- Location:my boudoir
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