Archive for August, 2013

“The Beast Below” plays rather like the usual companion’s first day out, with an added closer look at the Eleventh Doctor, who at this point we are still getting to know. While it’s definitely one of Steven Moffat’s weaker episodes, it is by no means deficient. It does so well with what it’s got that, as with so many other episodes, I can’t help but like it.

The story here stands out to me more than others; it involves no monsters or villains, just the misguided mistakes of human beings. Even Amy screws up, and the Doctor reacts in fiery fashion, threatening to take her home over it after he sorts everything in both the best and worst way he can. Indeed, some of the Doctor’s actions here echo what the Tenth Doctor might have done—taken matters into his own hands as a higher authority than mere human beings, doing something horrible to save the day, etc. But then the rug gets pulled out from under him when Amy—one of those mere human beings—figures everything out and shows us that the Doctor can be fallible after all. She sees a way out where he only saw disaster and death, and in so doing shows him that he can have more days where everybody lives.

While this may have the unintended effect of making Amy seem too “perfect,” I must hasten to point out the other, smaller things we see from her. She’s run away from her wedding. She’s scared of what that might mean for her future and also what getting “really, actually” married might mean for the rest of her life. She may be brave in the face of alien dangers, and more capable there as well, but she is far more frightened and vulnerable before the trappings of an ordinary life. While that has certainly been explored to some degree before (largely with Rose and Donna), I think the important thing here is that Amy still kind of wants that ordinary life. She perks up when the automated voter roll gets to her marital status, and she does seem to somewhat regret her spur-of-the-moment decision. It’s an interesting aspect of her character that has an important bearing on her development, and I like that it’s addressed early on.

All meta-y thoughts aside, this episode is still more or less average, though there is much to love about it, like Sophie Okendo’s Liz Ten, the most badass royal this side of Princess Leia. Speaking of which: ALL THE STAR WARS REFERENCES. Up to and including that lovely wipe before Amy and the Doctor’s big scene at the end there. Matt Smith puts in a performance that by all accounts makes it seem like the Doctor is still settling into his new body. Even if the comparisons between the Doctor and the Star Whale are a little on the nose, they’re still kind of beautiful, and damn if that scene doesn’t make me teary-eyed every time. “The Beast Below” is by no means exceptional, but it’s still a lovely episode, one that I never mind rewatching from time to time.



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I don’t know what to say about this episode.  It’s one of the best Doctor Who stories, ever.  It makes a clear and immediate break from the visual and narrative style that preceded it.  It’s an hour long but doesn’t feel it for even a second.  It has the uneasy task of introducing us to both a new Doctor and a new companion, and it more than rises to the occasion.  It’s perfect, and how the hell am I supposed to critique that?  It’s like, “The Eleventh Hour,” how do I love thee, let me count the ways.

…and why not. (more…)

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grouchy day

It’s amazing how many posts about nothing in particular I’ve managed to churn out over the course of this year. This year, which is nearly two-thirds of the way through. In case you’d forgotten that. But here I am, writing about nothing in particular because I have nothing specific to write about in the first place.

I haven’t done jack squat with my day today. I woke up late, and I have basically spent all day either futzing around on the internet or playing video games. Neither of which are really working towards my whole “make good art” goal in even the tiniest, most miniscule fraction of a way. It’s just laziness, and every day it happens again is another day that I go to sleep kind of hating myself a little. Which is what I shouldn’t do, I know, but I can’t help it. (Or maybe I can and I’m just not trying hard enough.)

I did make brownies today. Which isn’t saying a lot, to be honest, because all that involved was dumping some water, oil, eggs, and mix into a bowl and then sticking it into the oven. But I suppose it’s the little things that count.

I would make grand statements about tomorrow, like how I want to clean the bathroom sink of my brother beard-hair and general mess, or how I want to do laundry, or how I want to actually write words and watch Doctor Who and review it and watch a movie and read a book and everything. But that accomplishes nothing. Or rather, I don’t want to get my hopes up. I do that every day, and I’m always letting myself down.


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With the arrival of September and fall and pumpkins and leaves comes the return of the television season, featuring new shows across the board, along with the return of surviving favorites. I’ve gone through and written down the shows (both new and old) that interest me the most, and I figured I would write a little bit about each one, because why not. (more…)

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I don’t know what to write. I’ve actually got a Doctor Who review all written up, but I haven’t typed it out yet and I don’t feel like doing that now because whatever. I don’t need a reason. I’m lazy. As has been well-established by this point.

I feel like my epiphany at the beginning of the month has somehow managed to get me absolutely nowhere. I haven’t made any more videos (and that’s going to be harder, now that I don’t have a tripod anymore). I haven’t watched any movies or read any books. My writing seems to have sagged to a standstill. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.

I want to tear everything apart sometimes. I just feel all knotted up and anxious and I want to break things, but of course everything that I might break is way too expensive for me to risk it. Because of course it is. But I want to throw things and tear them apart and just pull things apart for the sake of /doing/ something. Because everything else seems impossible right now.

But I still have that epiphany ringing in my head: Just do it. Make good art. Make things. Even if those things are crappy Pacific Rim fanfic, or tiny paper cranes, or videos of me sobbing over Doctor Who characters. Make things. Make them and put them out there for people to see. It’s not that hard. It’s just a matter of getting the job done, of not spending all day playing Animal Crossing or refreshing Tumblr or rewatching the entirety of The Brain Scoop. All that matters is you, you doing the things you want to do, because you want to do them. Make good art. Make stuff. Don’t let lethargy get the better of you.

And okay, now this has turned into a self-pep talk, but I’m at this point where I don’t care. I should probably go and make my tea; I set the kettle on like half an hour ago, it might not even be hot anymore. I haven’t had a mug of tea in forever, but the house has been freezing, so I suddenly felt like it. Nice cup of Earl Grey, or maybe I’ll treat myself to one of my Disneyland flavors. Or something else entirely.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll make cookies, and I’ll film myself doing it and edit it into a video. I want there to be sweets in the house again. Or maybe tomorrow I’ll write up an actual script about something, and film that, and edit it together. Maybe I will do so many things tomorrow that by the end of the day I will feel accomplished and better and everything that most often times I do not feel at all.

Tomorrow is more or less infinite. It doesn’t matter so much about what you make, I guess, because oblivion and all that, but make something anyway. Leave pieces of yourself behind for the rest of the world and all that comes after it to enjoy. Leave them because you want to be remembered, even if only three people ever in the whole history of the world really, truly remember you. They won’t write your name in history books, but they’ll write it on their hearts, and that is, truly, more important.

This started out all whiny and somehow has turned into an inspirational something or other. I don’t know how that happened. I’m going to go make myself a cuppa.


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(this has been a post)

What a day it has been.

It’s weird to go back to a place where you used to live your life. I went back to my old university today, because my brother was moving in and my best friend still lives nearby, so why not. My brother was even assigned to a dormitory where I lived for most of a year. It’s weird, remembering the little things but not enough of them. Were the elevator floors that wood paneling, or was it the rubber dotted mat? Are the flowers in the beds grown bigger and taller, or is it only your imagination?

Maybe I have something more profound to say about it all, but I really don’t. It’s just strange and disquieting, and I am happy to be home again, in my room, on my bed, with my things all around me and not someone else’s. (The constant internet connection goes without saying, I think.) I can go back to being just me, just at home.

I keep thinking about some of the stuff I can get away with, now that my brother’s out of the house. I can clean the bathroom sink and it will actually stay clean. The toilet seat and lid will stay down. I don’t have to worry about knocking crap over when I go to brush my teeth. I don’t have to worry about him walking in on me without knocking, or just knocking and opening the door before I have time to answer. (I don’t get this. What’s the point of knocking if you’re just going to come in anyway?)

I might not get out as much, but that’s what the library is for, right? I like having less to worry about in my life. As far as I’m concerned, that’s a big plus. I have one less potential interruption in my life. And yeah, I guess I’ll miss him, like I missed him when he was in California, but sometimes it’s just nice to be on my own. I don’t have to worry about his drama or his yelling or anything. It’s just me. Just me here, no worries.

Something will probably have to be done about the kittens, though. (That something is adoption, but who knows how long that’s going to take.)


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Oh, hey, it’s time for 100-Word Wednesday again. I haven’t done this in a couple of weeks, but it’s always a nice format to return to. As you have no doubt noticed, I’ve been a tad distracted by the recent glut of Doctor Who reviews. I wanted to get through the Davies era of Who as quickly as possible, and I also sort of wanted to stay on schedule. I am supposed to start Series 5 this week, and rest assured that will happen by the end of the week. Even if I post four reviews in a row (again).


No but seriously there was no way I was going to stretch out watching the rest of Series 4 and the specials. Especially End of Time. I originally had that slated down for two separate reviews, but actually watching the thing changed my mind immensely. Outside of Wilf (who is perfect and wonderful), there is nothing about that special I like. I’m not even kidding. Everything about it is embarrassing and awful, and I am honestly really glad that Tennant and Davies left when they did. I don’t want to think about what another series with them would’ve been like.


Quick, talk about something that isn’t Doctor Who! HOW ABOUT PACIFIC RIM. Like, sweet god, I love that movie. I’m glad it’s doing so well abroad, because that ups the chances for a sequel significantly, and I want a sequel like burning. I want more stories in this world, because the more I learn about it (courtesy writer Travis Beacham’s tumblr) the more I want to see it onscreen. I love that there was so much thought and care put into this world, and I want to take in as much of it as I can before it all ends.


I hate that awful fuzzy feeling that grows on my teeth when I’m lax about brushing, which seems to be happening all the time these days. It’s not so hard to do, for crying out loud, it doesn’t take up a lot of precious time or anything, but I’m just like, “oh, I’ll do it in the morning/tonight/later” and then we get to this point, and seriously, how has my mouth not slowly filled with cavities? Especially with all the soda and sweets I consume. I’m awful. I’m like a dentist’s worst nightmare. Or I should be, anyway.


I can’t believe it’s almost September. Where does the time go? I mean, yes, I know it goes into the past and that every moment we experience has basically already happened the moment we think about it again, and isn’t that confusing and wonderful and weird. Or something. I would be a terrible Doctor Who companion, I’d just stand in the TARDIS asking questions about time and time travel and the nature of the universe and the Doctor would probably put me back where he found me. Anyway. September is almost here. Why is this year flying by so quickly?


I’ve not written anything in a while. I guess I’ve just been busy with Doctor Who (as ever). I want to say I’ve been busy with other things, but that would be a lie, because I haven’t done much else outside of Doctor Who (and Animal Crossing and silly games on my phone and so on). So I’m going to write tonight. And tomorrow, at the library. Reading’s also going to get done; I’m in the middle of three books, which is frankly ridiculous. I will Accomplish Things, and it’s going to great. Everything will settle and be lovely again.


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