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Who Named the TARDIS?

Susan_Foreman So, Doctor Who's very first companion, his granddaughter, Susan (pictured), was said to have named the TARDIS.

At the time it the show first went on the air in 1963, it was thought the Doctor invented the TARDIS, and so it made sense why his granddaughter might have named it.

Later it was established the TARDISes were much older than that, and had not been invented by the Doctor (unless he is also "the Other" who worked with Rassilon and Omega).

Thus whether Susan came up with the name was thrown into question.

But why?

Hello! This is a *time travel* show!

I can think of *multiple* ways Susan could have been responsible for naming a machine invented long before she was born.

That kind of time paradox is nothing!

I mean . . . we've just seen that River Song was responsible for naming *herself*–TWICE–without even trying!

Doctor Who: “A Good Man Goes to War” & “Let’s Kill Hitler”

Doctor-who-lets-kill-hitler-river-song_article_story_main I meant to offer some thoughts on the Doctor Who episode "A Good Man Goes to War" back when it aired a few months ago, but it got away from me. So now I'll offer some thoughts on it and Part 2 of the story: "Let's Kill Hitler."

I think that both episodes were basically enjoyable, but flawed. They were not Steven Moffatt's best work. (Certainly nowhere near as powerful as "Silence in the Library"/"Forest of the Dead.")

To keep this post from getting (even more) overly long, I'll leave the good things to your memory (we probably enjoyed a lot of the same stuff) and focus on what I consider the flaws.

First, the cheeky religious elements didn't work for me (the fat/thin gay married Anglican marines, the headless monks, the papal mainframe herself). Last season's treatment of the 51st century priestly marine corp was much better.

These were minor annoyances, though. The main flaws were larger.

For a start, there was the problem of motivation. Here the Doctor is supposed to be pitted against a massive dangerous enemy that has it in for him in a superdramatic way, and yet we've never seen them before.

Worse, they don't seem to have a motivation for their actions; we don't know why they hate the Doctor so much. Who are these people and why should we–or they–care?

You can't have a superdramatic battle with enemies the audience doesn't know or understand. In fact, it turns out that even the Doctor doesn't know or understand this enemy. He doesn't know, for example, that they are working for the Silence (who themselves are little-understood Johnny come latelies).

All of this sucks emotional punch out of the episode, making all the hyperventilating, over-the-top drama hyping ring hollow. It would been far more effective to reveal that the plot against Amy's baby was being run by a villain we know and understand, like the Master . . . or Davros. Either would have been far more chilling than the Eyepatch Lady.

Then there's the big reveal. If you didn't see that coming, it would have been really cool. My enjoyment of it was marred, though, but the fact I did see it coming. A long way off. Multiple episodes earlier.

Last season, when Amy Pond was introduced, people started speculating about a connection between them and their water-based names. Then this season Amy turns up pregnant, and the TARDIS tells Rory that "The only water in the forest is the river." Oh, and there's been all this talk about the Doctor discovering who River "really is." After that, it's not hard to guess the big reveal.

Then there's what happens when the Doctor find out who River is. He becomes elated and runs off with the TARDIS, saying that he knows where Amy's baby is and everything will be fine. Why doesn't he take everybody with him? Why don't they all go get Amy's baby together?

Dramatically, this makes no sense. The only thing I can suppose is that Moffatt wanted the Doctor off the screen to simplify the revelation to Amy and Rory–and the audience. Having him in the shot would change the dynamic. Either that or–more likely–he needed to do it to set up the introduction of Mels in the next episode.

Previously Moffatt had promised that we would have a "game changing" twist for the midseason cliffhanger, but this revelation–while interesting and clever–was not "game changing." Especially not when it stands in the shadow of the Doctor's apparent death, which was very effectively portrayed in the first episode of the season. Paying that off as the midseason cliffhanger would have been dramatic and game changing, but finding out River's identity? Not so much.

There's also the implication from the phrase "good man" in the episode title that suggests, based on past episodes, it will pay off the Doctor's apparent death in some way.

Finally, we cut to the title card saying Doctor Who will be back in the fall in "Let's Kill Hitler"–an arrestingly dramatic title.

It suggests that Amy's baby may be back in Hitler's time, and that this is where the Doctor is going (though how would he know that?). It also promises an episode in which we get a serious treatment of the eternal time travel question of why the Doctor shouldn't just kill Hitler and save millions of lives. This is the kind of thing time travel stories regularly involve, and the such a dramatic title promises the audience a serious payoff on the question.

But this is not the episode we get.

It turns out that the Doctor doesn't know where Amy's baby is–so why did he ditch the rest of the crew at the previous episode's end? And why was he so elated at the time? This makes no sense.

Worse, while Melody's line when she commandeers the TARDIS and the Doctor asks her if there is any place in particular she wants to go ("You've got a time machine. I've got a gun. Let's kill Hitler!") is really good, the whole Hitler subplot turns out to be a tiny part of the episode that is basically played for comic relief ("Rory, put Hiter in the cupboard." "Right. Putting Hitler in the cupboard.")

This totally welshes on the promise implied by the title card we were shown at the end of the previous episode. You must deliver on that kind of promise, and Moffatt didn't.

Then there's the character of Mels herself. As soon as she drove up and turned out to be Amy and Rory's best friend–who the Doctor AND THE AUDIENCE–have mysteriously never met, I thought, "Oh, no! Another sudden introduction of somebody Really Important who we Don't Know."

You can't generate audience investment in a character on the spot. This is the same flaw that plagued the previous episode with the allegedly impressive villains who we don't know and don't understand. Suddenly introducing someone and telling us they're important and then expecting us to care about them (for good or ill) is Bad Writing.

If you want emotional payoff, you have to let the audience get to know the characters and form strong emotional impressions of them before you use those emotional ties to the characters to create moments of powerful drama. If you don't let the audience do that then the attempt at drama falls flat.

Steven Moffatt's like of sudden introductions of major characters as plot twists, though, conflicts with this.

After the opening credits, we got a montage showing Mels' early life with Amy and Rory, and I have to admit that this was effective. It let us do the kind of bonding with her as a character that we needed to do in order to care about her. Moffatt thus redeemed the mistake he was in the process of making before the opening credits.

But redeeming a mistake is not as good as not making it in the first place. Think of the greater impact this episode would have had if Mels had been introduced long ago, and we'd seen her interacting with Amy and Rory as their best friend for a long time.

Maybe she would have been an additional TARDIS companion along with them! Think of how much mind-bending emotional punch THAT would have given to what happens to her in this episode!

Another flaw in this episode, though I think a lesser one, is the quirky, psychotic way River acts. Partly this is explained by the programming she's been given, but that's not a really good explanation. Crazy people do not make good agents to perform the kind of task she's been given.

A better, more logical explanation is that the way she makes her entrance in this episode has a temporarily unsettling effect on her mind as well as her body–something that has repetated precedents in this show.

Those are the major flaws in the episodes, to my mind. They occur on the structural/plot/emotional dynamics level, though there are some on the detail level as well.

I did think the episodes were, overall, enjoyable, though. And they had some really nice things, again on the larger and the smaller level. 

I thought Rory got some of the best lines in this episode (along with Mels). His panicked silence (a non-line) as a teenager when Amy asks him if there is even one girl he's ever showed any interest in is priceless. 

Then we have gems such as, "I'm trapped inside a giant robotic replica of my wife. . . . I'm really trying not to see this as a metaphor." And, when Amy challenges him on how he knew they were struck by a miniaturization ray, he says, "Well, there was a ray, and we . . . miniaturized." Or when the killbot tells them to remain calm for their executions, a panicked Rory piquedly retorts, "When has that ever worked!"

The killbots get some good lines, too: "You will experience a tingling sensation . . . then death."

Soon I'll try to have some thoughts on the next episode, Night Terrors.

Where Does the Catholic Mass Come From? (The Answer May Surprise You!)


 

 

There are several ways you can order Jimmy Akin's best-selling new book, Mass Revision: How the Liturgy Is Changing and What It Means for You. You can:

  1. Order a paperback copy 24-hours a day from the Catholic Answers online store by clicking here.
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The Rebel Flesh & The Almost People

Rebel_flesh Thought I'd give a few quick thoughts on the recent two-part Doctor Who story consisting of The Rebel Flesh (episode 5) and The Almost People (episode 6).

I was not originally looking forward to this two-parter. It didn't appear connected with the main season arc, it wasn't written by Steven Moffatt, and it seemed to involve just another monster of the week (or, well, group of monsters of the week). I was expecting it to be not-that-great, possibly on the order of Curse of the Black Spot, which I thought had good parts but was overall kinda lame.

It was with pleasure, then, that as soon as we got very far into The Rebel Flesh that the show turned out to be much more interesting than I first thought.

Basically–and this is not a significant spoiler but merely an explanation of the title monster–the story concerns a 22nd century technology that allows for the standard sci-fi staple of rapidly-produced, fully-functional, fully-memoried adult clones.

Normally I don't like that trope (doesn't fit real-world science), but they get there in an interesting way: The humans in the story don't realize at first that creating such clones is what they're doing. They think they are using a generic biological substance (called "flesh") to receive a temporary impression of a person's physical form and consciousness so that it can act as a temporary, remote-controlled disposable worker body to take on dangerous jobs so the human controller won't have to.

What they don't realize is that the way they technology works, they are actually creating new living beings with the bodily forms and memories of their operators. The Doctor even warns them that these beings may (or do) have souls, qualifying them as the subjects of rights just as much as normal humans.

At this point the episode becomes very interesting from a philosophical and theological perspective. The show's creators are now playing with themes that have important real-world applications.

It doesn't matter how you come up with a new human–they can be produced by marital intercourse the way God designed the process to work, or by fornication, adultery, or rape, or by in vitro fertilization, cloning, or materialization in a nanotech chamber–however you get them, they are real humans who have real human rights that must be respectd.

Even if they aren't quite human, if you make something that's alive (and thus has a soul, or animating principle of some sort) that displays human consciousness (and thus rational thought), you have a being with a rational soul that must be treated as equivalent to a human being in terms of rights and dignity. How it got here is irrelevant. Now that it's here, its rights must be honored.

So this episode is doing what sci-fi does well when it's working at its best–using an imaginative context to re-frame actual, important elements of human experience. Ones that our own technology has (since 1978, when Louise Brown, the first test-tube baby was born) begun to confront us with.

Thereafter follows the expected story of how the humans and their "flesh" dopplegangers ("gangers," as the show calls them) will relate. Naturally, it puts them at odds, but it does so without making either side clear-cut villains. It needed to do that–to show good on both sides–or it would have become unbearably cliche and far less interesting.

There are a lot of nice Doctor Who-esque moments along the way (particularly some nice references to the Doctor's prior incarnations), and while the story is not genius from star to finish (there are paint-by-numbers parts, particular in the second episode, The Almost People), it was much better than I expected.

The ultimate resolution of the human/gangers conflict was decent, though it was tainted by the typical bad sci-fi metaphysics regarding identity (one ganger character ends up substituting for his human counterpart in a way that is not plausible), but that's par for the course.

More interesting was the way the episode linked with the overall season arc. It was much more tightly integrated than first appeared.

Moffatt seems to have been doing at least slight script revisions to other authors scripts so that they will include at least passing references to the season arc (e.g., appearances of the eye-patch lady, the Doctor looking at Amy's positive/negative pregnancy through a medical scanner, references to the Doctor's apparent death in episode 1 of the season), but these have been very brief elements clearly added in script revision. 

The Rebel Flesh/The Almost People turns out to be much more tied to the main arc than that. My guess is that Moffatt proposed the idea and assigned someone else to write it. Either that or it was proposed at an early stage of season development and Moffatt realized how nicely it would fit into his overall plan.

Whatever the case, they end up pulling the triggers on several major season elements, which is good, because it was getting a little tiresome watching the eye-patch lady peek in on Amy every episode or two and watching the Doctor looking suspiciously at Amy with the medical scanner every episode. I was afraid they wouldn't pay these elements off until the end of the series, but they did in part two of the episode, and now I don't mind them. They have a decent relative proportion to the overall shape of the season arc.

I'm very keen to see what they do in the mid-season finale which airs this weekend (in America; it aired last weekend in England).

The ominous title (which is even more ominous based on what we've heard River Song say before) is A Good Man Goes To War.

Here's the bonus, online prequel to that episode:

What do you think?

Rome’s New UGLY John Paul II Statue

Johnpauliistatue

Catholic News Service is running a piece about the new statue unveiled in Rome to commemorate Bl. John Paul II (statue pictured).

Wow is it ugly.

And inappropriate.

Even L’Osservatore Romano—the Vatican’s newspaper—has commented on how lame it is. (I guess that’s one fortunate thing about LOR‘s turn toward less anodyne commentary; if we’ve got to deal with with their less-than-helpful commentary about the Beatles, Michael Jackson, and The Simpsons, at least they now have the freedom to say when a pope statue is ugly.)

According to CNS:

Sculptor Oliviero Rainaldi intended to show the late pope with his cape billowing in the wind, as a symbolic image of welcome. The 16-foot-tall bronze sculpture was placed outside Rome’s main train station, where tens of thousands of visitors arrive daily.

But when unveiled May 18, it looked more like an open tent, or a sentry-box, or a bell, commented L’Osservatore Romano. The papal cape looks like it was split open by a bomb. More importantly, the newspaper said, it’s unrecognizable as John Paul II — the head is “excessively spherical.”

The newspaper credited the sculptor with trying to move beyond classic papal iconography and attempt something new and different.

“But overall, the result does not seem to have matched the intention, and in fact there has already been criticism,” it said.

In Rome newspaper polls, public opinion is running 9-1 against the statue.

Ya think?

The placement of the statue outside Rome’s main train station—the Termini—is particularly unfortunate, because it ensures a large number of people will see the thing. The Termini is a very important travel hub in Rome for locals and pilgrims alike.

I have to say that this statue is even worse than the one inside the entrance of the Vatican museums. That statue, titled “Varcare la soglia” (Crossing the Threshold), is a slab of marble with a bas relief of John Paul II on each side, apparently shoving a goofy-looking, modern, cell-phone clutching man out of the block of marble.

I was stunned when I first saw it.

Take a look see for yourself. Here’s one side of it:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And here’s the other:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Sorry; couldn’t find larger images. Trust me, it’s even more hideous when you see it up close and larger than life.)

MORE INFO HERE.

Some years ago, I visited a traveling exhibit of Vatican art treasures, with items spanning many centuries. I was struck by the quality of the older material and how the quality of the art suddenly fell off a cliff in the mid-20th century.

I can only imagine art historians in the year 2525 (if man is still alive; if woman can survive) looking back on this period and struggling to explain the sudden, appalling lack of taste and artistic sensibility.

Of course, neither the new JP2 statue or the “Crossing the Threshold” statue is the worst 20th century artistic atrocity passed off as something deeply spiritual, but I’ll tell you about that one another time.

In the meanwhile, what do you think the new statue of John Paul II looks like? A telephone booth? An agonizer booth? A bus stop?

What are your thoughts?

P.S. For extra points, how would you caption the photo of the new statue?

Tardiness & TARDISness

River_song Last week my home was invaded by bees–AGAIN! This was the third time. Apparently when my place was re-roofed recently, the anti-bee measures (netting blocking access to vents) that had been set up got disturbed, and the little varmints got in again.

Multiple people have been joking me that they keep returning because I'm so sweet. All I can say is, that's very . . . sweet . . . of you to say.

In any event, I was basically offline for several days as a result, and that made me rather tardy on blogging. Apologies.

In other news, as predicted, this week's episode of Doctor Who ("The Doctor's Wife," by Neil Gaiman) was way better than last week's. Nice creepiness, humor, and a poignant twist on classic Doctor Who mythology. Just what I would have expected from Gaiman.

It also addresses a timely issue: Even though the Doctor has been married before (and is a father; he's said so explicitly, and we met his granddaughter and first companion, Susan, who was the title character of Episode 1, "An Unearthly Child"), and regardless of what happens with River Song (strongly hinted to be his future wife), from the perspective of the series as a whole there is really one "character" who has an even greater title to the role of Doctor's wife. And thanks to Gaiman, he's now been properly introduced to her.

Now we've got the two-part "rebel flesh" story before we get back to River, the Silence, and the promised "game-changing" mid-season finale.

For those who have been paying attention to the clues about River Song's past (still in the Doctor's future), the title of the finale is ominous: "A Good Man Goes to War." I'm also anticipating that we're likely to return to the beach, this time with more information about who's inside the space suit.