In Which I Gush Over Doctor Who (8/10/09)

If you've been following this blog, you're aware that I have recently begun watching Doctor Who. You are also aware that my reaction to the series has been perfectly mature, with nothing at all obsessive or fangirl-like about it.

Eeeeeee! OMFG, I lurve Doctor Who so much!!!!!

Okay, shut up. That could've been true. (If I were someone else entirely. But nevertheless!)

For those of you who operate in real time, watching shows when they are actually current and widely popular, this will be repetitive for you. For those of you who have never seen Doctor Who, this will be incomprehensible to you (though if you like sci-fi, fantasy, time travel, awesome characters, and fab plots, you should initiate yourselves). But gush I must. Just consider this a selfish post and get over it.

"EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!" Everybody loves an angry Dalek.

And so it begins:

I would first like to apologize to the universe at large for not having watched Doctor Who until now. I don't know what I've been doing with my life, frankly. As far as I can recall, I've been wasting it with nonsensical activities like acquiring an education, being a productive member of the workforce, spending time with friends and family, and reading silly books about wizards.

But none of that matters now. (Sorry, friends and family.)

I've only seen the new series 1, so no spoilers, if you please. (And by "I've only seen the new series 1," I mean that I spent a week on my couch watching Doctor Who and knitting. Best. Week. Ever.)

Christopher Eccleston is commanding and brooding and compassionate. He seethes with righteous anger, but he is quick to laugh and quick to smile. I love his always-amused Doctor so, so much, and I have put aside all my objections to excessive age gaps and want him and Rose to get married and have babies. Which I assume isn't going to happen, but I'm going to wish for it all the same.

Christopher Eccleston will always be the Doctor to me, y'all.

Also, Billie Piper is my new favorite person, and "Because We Want To" is my new go-to song. I LOVE that Rose runs around in slightly baggy, not-very-well-put-together clothes. Fancy that: a normal woman. And a female lead who is treated as an equal with the male lead. Who'd've thunk? Rose isn't posh, but she is smart and brave and selfless all the same, and though she sometimes needs saving, she's not a damsel in distress.

Yeah, she's kind of a chav. But Rose Tyler is a girl's girl, and I heart her THIIIIIS much.

All of the characters are actually pretty fabulous (big love to Rose's trashy, yet dignified mother), and I think that Harriet Jones, MP, should be given her own show, rather than a supporting role in one measly episode.

Jackie Tyler = One Bossy Bitch. Oh, yes.

I have a great deal of Who-watching ahead of me, which is excellent, as I've found that the more I talk about the Doctor, the more fans I find crawling out of the woodwork, excited to have a newbie to chat to. And I can assure you of this: I will be knitting that scarf. And it will be wonderful.

Perhaps less wonderful will be the upcoming season, which I told you about before. It transpires that, like Filmi-Girl, I loathe Steven Moffat's Who episodes; well, I loathe the two I've seen, at any rate. And I did feel that someone should put him in a TARDIS and send it to a time before writing was invented, as I supposed that would save us all from his horror-inspired, plot-driven, character-ignoring episodes.

But then I realized that I recognized his name: Moffat wrote Coupling! It's crass, and it's craven, but I do love that show. Shame. I wanted to hate him outright. Stupid complex human race in which nothing is ever in effing black-and-white like it's supposed to be.

Are you man enough to be the Doctor, David Tennant?

However. Back to the present (how very un–Time Lord of me!): The final episode of the season had me in floods, and I miss Christopher Eccleston as the Doctor already. You've got big shoes to fill, David Tennant!