“Go on my son!”


Well, now then. It’s Sunday morning and I’m giggling like a 14 year old after watching last night’s ‘Doctor bloody Who’.
Before it came on, I were thinking, ‘so this 42 business int really THE 42, eh? Shame…’
But was it?
You could argue that the episode were all about answers, after all. Many and varied, chucked in at all angles and wedging open the way fer all kinds of ideas.
Or you could argue that that’s just a load of grasping-at-straws bollocks and in actual fact, 42 had nowt to do wi any of it.
Fair enough.

And on-sy, then. Loved this one, best episode since ‘Gridlock’, methinks. I think it were the sweaty runny shouty saving friendy inevitable grimy good old fashioned fun type stuff. And in a strange way, the fact that I had me attention pleasantly diverted from the usual eye-magnet. Oh, that supporting cast. I think Captain McDonnell was some bird from Eastenders, was she not? Everyone were fab, no doubt about it. But hello, who’s this? Who’s this cheeky grimy grease-monkey type popping up int background? Why, it’s William Ash, lovely little Manc monkey that he is. Did we like? Did we! Oooh, did we! Now that’s a biscuit fer dippin’!

The little touches were nice, and again, it felt like ‘the BBC does semi-drama’ at times. I loved the silence as the escape pod were jettisoned and it just fell away from’t ship. I loved the ‘that told him!’ from’t Doctor. I loved the ‘Universal roaming’ on her phone, a ‘frequent flyer privilege’. The “go on my son!” as he tried to press that wee button ont outside o ship. The return of the red Chucks (not the same ones he threw int bin, obviously, as these are high-tops and the ones he threw away weren’t… Gah! Ok, I’m a geek, alright?), his instant ‘I’m in charge so just get on with it, or everyone will die’ attitude. And woah woah woah ~ know a lot about medicine, do we Doctor? My first thought was ‘get Martha down here’ – and int that nice? That I’d trust her to know more about what’s bothering the poor human flailing in pain than the Doctor? The ship were a fab set, the lighting and especially music a brilliant touch. All-in-all, a lovely piece of Saturday night entertainment.

Almost blubbed when Martha phoned home. Just cos her mam had a go, cos she wasn’t impressed. But hey, that’s what Martha wanted, int it? Her mam to be just like normal? So in a way, that’s what she got. And then the Doctor made me gasp like he’d just admitted he were actually really French, rolling around shouting “I’m so scared!” Scared of what, exactly? Letting it take him over? Letting it kill everyone and not being able to stop it? Or re-generating again? Or re-generating and still having that thing rattling round inside? Martha was ace, and I don’t think it were her bedside manner that came through, trying to soothe the beast in the stasis chamber. Good girl!

She had some fab scenes this time round, so it’s no wonder he’s finally given her her own key. Although, that does kinda put a spanner int works ~ I believe I mentioned in fan-fic (looooong story, mate) that he thinks she already has a key. Ah well. I knew writing a story any time throughout ‘Doctor bloody Who’ would be a minefield, what wi mentioning things and not mentioning things. Ah well. Dunt really matter. I could just adjust it and say it happened after this one, and not the one before. Sorted. And in case anyone’s interested, the link fert reading said fan-fic (rated K fer all ages ~ sorry, nowt ‘adult’, you’ll have to make do wi the ol’ Disney-flick ‘only an adult would get that joke / reference’ material) is HERE. One word will make you read it. No, not one. Six. Six little words ~ just six. “Black Chucks for a black tux”…

Back the episode then: one little thing niggled ~ the poor TARDIS neglected again, left standing all alone in some sauna, about to be melted to a lump of– whatever TARDISes are grown from. Poor old girl. One day she’s going to get her own back. Or is that why she constantly bounces them around wi all the in-flight smoothness of an Aeroflot flight? Ah…

So we’re back to normality again. 45 mins of shiny shiny fun, then back to it. Dad’s birthday on Wednesday of next week, followed by Buddha’s birthday on Thursday, followed by Intergalactic Towel Day next Friday. What, you didn’t know? Oh no, no, no ~ you just forgot, right? Make sure you carry yer towel on May 25th ~ I’ll have mine, don’t you worry.


Towel Day :: A tribute to Douglas Adams (1952-2001)


I think we’re done. I have stuff to mark and student reports to write, after all. And Confidential to watch on BBC3. Coming next time ~ students say the funniest things

EDIT:
I should be a happy bunny, but no. I find that Blogger’s updated Save thingy now precludes me ‘Preview’ option from working (on Safari). According to their site, they’ve already fixed it.

WELL CLEARLY YOU HAVEN’T, COS IT STILL DOESN’T WORK.

Remind me why I’m using Blogger again?

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