In the literature, you find that Wales is second only to Cornwall in terms of strange doorways into other places. Thanks to the Gelth, the stones beneath their feet in Cardiff sing with the literal horizons of new worlds. Lots of charming and hopeful double-language signs and things in Wales; lots of insistence that a speaking population smaller than that of metropolitan Houston constitutes a living language, and not an archaic beauty. Don't call Welsh a dead language, by any definition linguistic or otherwise, unless you'd like to redefine "pedantry" in a pound or two of email. Mark my words.
Double-language signs are charming and hopeful! It's true, you know. Every time I look at a bus that says 'An Lár' or a big huge motorway sign post that says both Dublin and Baile Átha Cliath I feel so....hopeful. And charmed. And aren't those darling little magical Welsh folks cute, "insisting" that the language which I've heard being pretty widely spoken every time I've been in Wales is a living language? Good for them! Of course, they do have singing stones blabbering on about literal horizons and suchlike. They also have the biggest freaking seagulls I've ever seen in my life, although Jacob doesn't mention them. Seriously, they're the size of small dogs! It's terrifying! Anyway, on we go. I can feel the wild celtic mists draw closer...
they all have a bit of Excellent conversation
Ooooh, so annoying. He shouldn't be allowed use the word excellent. He's making me hate it.
it basically seems to be that Davies and I view the Doctor quite differently sometimes. I tend to go overboard on the Byronic, woe-is-me stuff, but Davies seems to put him at times in this box where he's like this Stuart Allan Jones/Brian Kinney unattainable perfect-boyfriend Sagittarius person ("I don't do families") who's always running off and fucking around and leaving you in the lurch with your heart broken. Somebody rather magical.
Our definitions of "magical" or rather different, but why I am surprised? Also unsurprising is the understatement of the year: "I tend to go overboard on the Byronic, woe-is-me stuff". Overboard? You think? Surely not. But perhaps the most obnoxious element in this pargraph is the news that Russell Davies sees HIS OWN CREATION - the ninth Doctor - differently from Saint Jacob in the All Knowing. YOU'RE NOT ACTUALLY WRITING THIS PROGRAMME, JACOB! God!
teenagers are abominable creatures
He makes this charming statement twice, and it's a rather unpleasant and unfunny little thing to say. It is, however, surprising, because in his self-importance, his arrogance, his pretentiousness and his cultural name-dropping, Jacob embodies all the bad things about teenagers. Alas, he seems to have none of the humour and excitement and goofiness and passion that often balances that out.
The "it's for kids" defense is getting mighty tired from where I'm standing, considering the show's really creepy most of the time
God almighty, that's why kids like it! That's why we hid behind the sofa! Hasn't he seen the adorable Fear Factor on the official BBC website, in which children rate each episode for scariness? They love the silly funny stuff! And they like the scary things too.
What's generally a sign of the family -- when Mickey came in, it was because he's family -- is now the opposite. The welcome is now a punishment. It's kind of sad, if you think about it. This thing they have that makes them gods. Before Orville and Wilbur, people were just like Flatland. Airplanes gave us the third dimension, as a people -- and then space. A global and then galactic sea change. The TARDIS gives us the fourth. And -- like the Doctor, like Rose -- it's vastly larger on the inside than on the outside.
Oh, Christ. Also, I think you'll find, Jacob, that long before Orville and Wilbur there were hot air balloons. Pedant, I'm a pedant....
Whatever, I'm sure there's a point here, but like I said, I don't always jibe with this reading of the Doctor. And this is not an armwrestling contest, and I'm not the showrunner, so yes, I'm the crazy one.
Well, can't argue with that...
What is this actor's name? Annette Badland. She was in The Worst Witch and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and on Coronation Street, and now she's on The Archers. Well done, Annette.
Huh? I don't get it. Is he congratulating her for being successful (which is insanely patronising - I'm sure she needs your congratulations, you bad writer), or does he not have a clue how popular some of these programmes are and is being sarcastic, or does he just not have a fucking clue what he's talking about? I suspect the latter.
Anyway, he then introduces this stupid snake metaphor which is almost as insanely idiotic as the lion crap last week, but which I can't be bothered to cut and paste because it's too stupid and it goes on for about half a page.
Truth is the glass that we make in the furnace of inspiration, and if you're talking about inner truth, the truth about you, then the inspiration is always the worst thing that you ever avoided admitting about yourself.
Wow, I wonder what self help book he got that one out of?
He's a wonderful man, this Doctor, and he deserves a big final exam. There's more to life than dancing. The difference between gods and heroes -- and the jury's out on which one applies to the Doctor, for now -- is apotheosis. Gods don't die, they just change. But heroes die, in sacrifice -- and now that he's ready for the furnace, what truth will the Doctor make?
Oooh! You know, I actually can't wait for this goon to recap the David Tennant episodes now, because Tennant is, as far as I'm concerned, a zillion times better. Christopher Ecclestone is a fantastic serious actor, but he can't do comedy to save his life, whereas Tennant has the right lightness of touch for the comic aspects of the role. However, if even Russell T. Davies can't match the almighty Jacob's view of the part, surely poor old David Tennant doesn't have a chance? I don't think Jacob will like it, but on the plus side, his rage has to be better than his preposterous fawning. Doesn't it?