During the current celebrations of “DOCTOR WHO” many people (including current show supremo Stephen Moffat) have taken you to task over your role in canceling the series that they loved. They have identified you in many ways as enemy number one in its demise (along with producer John Nathan Turner) and you have come in for so much stick it would seem in poor taste for a lifelong “DOCTOR WHO” fan like myself to add to your woes by ripping the hell out of you in an open letter like this
...So I won’t.
In fact, actually I would like to thank you for cancelling “DOCTOR WHO” when you did. You see with the Doctor riding the crest of a wave in terms of popularity at the minute it seems crazy to thank someone for getting rid of such a hit show, but this is because history tends to be written by the winners and as such is usually wrong. Let’s cast our minds back to where it all began, where it started to go wrong and why your decision was ultimately the right one.
Back in the heady days of 1963 BBC head of drama, Sydney Newman had an idea, not for a kid’s show, but for a drama, a sci-fi drama about a time-traveller that the entire family could watch.
Giving his idea to newly promoted producer Verity Lambert (no relation ...as far as I’m aware. ???) they enlisted a great actor to play the role and from 1963 through to 1979 the show was a runaway smash. It may have been scary at times, and blighted by special effects that were never really that special, but it was undeniably a success (if you don’t think of all the times that the Fourth version on the Doctor has appeared in “THE SIMPSONS”.) But then came an after effect, a ripple through time, of something that was so gargantuan that even “DOCTOR WHO” could not help but be affected, it was an after-shock from “STAR WARS”.
In 1980 ITV showed a big-budget sci-fi show called “BUCK ROGERS IN THE 25TH CENTURY” which, before the big embarkation of the video age, caused a massive reduction in the Doctor’s viewing figures. It had the big-effects of “STAR WARS” (well, cheap versions anyway) and so dragged some of the “STAR WARS” fans away (for only one season anyway as the second season of “BUCK ROGERS” was cack!) but this caused ripples at the BBC who replaced their tired old Doctor with a younger man (actually this was a good move as he was top!) and a new producer but apart from the new man at the helm this was the temporary end for the good Doctor as standards slid, the high-standards of writing slid and the show descended from Drama where it’s greatest moments always came from into the realm of being a mere kid’s show.
So history lesson over for those people who aren’t au fait with the show, this is why it left the screens, not because you were vindictive or had no vision to see what the show could be, it’s because it descended into farce. The Irony is that over the other side of the pond around the time that our “DOCTOR WHO” was facing cancellation paramount television was starting its own big budget sci-fi show “STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION” and learnt something after the first two seasons, that the key to success is in the writing rather than the effects. It was arguably this shift in quality in season 3 that not only kept “STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION” on our screens but also created 3 further “STAR TREK” spin-off series that lasted in total a staggering 24 seasons, including “NEXT GEN” itself (the image below is from what it is probably the highlight of all seven seasons of NEXT GEN, season five's THE INNER LIGHT.)
If the show hadn’t died temporarily in 1989 it may not have been brought back when it was in 2005 with TV standards in this country reaching a point where both effects costs had reduced sufficiently but writing standards had increased sufficiently. Now we have “DOCTOR WHO” back to where it should be, as a drama, occasionally comedic, but usually terrifying, and amazingly it’s all down to you, MIchael Grade, the man who saved “DOCTOR WHO” by killing it.
So unusual as it seems, from all the official Whovians out there, who love the show, and all the unofficial ones who do but don’t admit to it, I say, thank you. Your contribution to the series has been noted, well, by one fan at least.
MY TRIBUTE TO THE 50TH ANNIVERSARY OF DOCTOR WHO CELEBRATIONS.
Hello all. Having seen all the bits and bobs floating around the internet and recognising it was a great time to do something a bit special I came up with this very short tail. It was inspired by a recent titbit I saw on You-Tube where Sylvester McCoy was reading out Matt Smith’s speech to the assembled throng of baddies from the episode “THE PANDORICA OPENS” and doing a mighty fine job of it, if I do say so myself. And it got me thinking about words and speeches and how one sentence can have two meanings ...Anyway I’m probably giving too much away here all I’ll say is, here’s the clip and I hope you like the story.
BLOODLESS COUP
The TARDIS whirred disapprovingly as it hurled itself through the time vortex. The internal workings of the gargantuan force of a black-hole pushed and pulled against themselves in order to propel the impossible vehicle through time and space. Right now the internal workings of the Doctor where pushing equally hard against themselves as he weighed up all the different moments and different experiences of his life and hoped to resolve those different forces and move forward. He had dropped off Sabine at Space Disney and left her there for a week while evaluating just what he wanted to do and what he wanted to be. His attire was something he hadn’t worn before, the black suit, black tie and black shirt were items he needed to wear but in the past had avoided. He was in mourning. Now, perhaps more than any other time before, he had a small decision to make that could have massive implications, not just on time and space but for the unique individuals it concerned.
He flicked a switch, latched onto the relevant time stream and set forth on the precise location. Space Disney was a matter of minutes away. The consoles displays reflected in those tired sad eyes of The Doctor and he prepared his mind for all he had to say to the new stray who had decided to travel with him. As the TARDIS veered through the relevant stream and slowed the Doctor could feel it, he could detect the strain on this massive beast of a ship as it moved through a vortex the like of which had never been known before the time-lords came along.
The TARDIS bucked and swerved a few more times before making a flawless landing (ish!) in Space Disney at the agreed designated area. The Doctor flicked on the monitor and could see Sabine awaiting with childlike glee, chewing on her self-replenishing blue candy-floss while watching the magic-box appear. The Doctor swallowed a lump in his throat as he flicked the switch and allowed the doors to open. He flicked the console back to read-outs and smiled half-heartedly as Sabine ran inside.
“Doctor! I had the most amazing time, you have got to see this place!” Sabine exclaimed, joyfully.
“I already have, actually,” The Doctor countered before closing the doors. “Probably too many times.”
“Are you all right?” Sabine asked as she detected his sombre mood. “What’s happened?”
“We need to talk,” The old Doctor said as he allowed the TARDIS to dematerialise back into the time stream before setting co-ordinates on the console for a new location in time and space.
“That sounds serious,” said Sabine looking worried. “Where are we going?”
“Home,” advised the Doctor.
“Your home?” she asked.
“No. Yours,” said the Doctor, hitting a switch and causing the enormous, tiny blue box to lurch to the right before beginning it’s journey back to the planet Kurl. “Let’s take a seat ….and a chat.”
They went into the ante room just off the TARDIS console room. It housed four comfy chairs around a coffee table, laid on a silver tray were two cups and a pot of tea. The Doctor poured out the liquid before sitting back, cup in hand and preparing his words.
“People come aboard this vessel and they don’t know me,” he began before taking a sip of drink. “And I think if you’re going to be putting yourself in harms way across the galaxy you should know just who you’re traveling with. Don’t you?”
Sabine nodded, almost scared to have a drink.
“I am a time-traveler and I have lived for over a thousand of your years and in that time I have had many faces, and many lives. As people of course you change as time goes by, but while you’re face changes slightly mine changes completely. When I die, when my cells are reaching the end of their living tenure, my body does this thing called regenerating, it means my whole physical being changes, the only thing that remains are my experiences.”
Sabine furrowed her brow.
“I started out as quite a pompous man, full of bluster and armed with a vast array of knowledge that I shared with my grand-daughter as we left home to explore the universe, my longest life saw me take six hundred years of steps through the stars, as my body regenerated it re-invigorated my desire to travel again and I took this opportunity with gay abandon until I was forced to regenerate by my fellow time-lords and banished to Earth. With my ability to travel gone I grew restless, aggressive and dictatorial, until I had to face my great fear, which actually killed me, but with no fear came freedom and with my friends I explored the universe. Boy, that was a great time. I thought it would never end, but with the universe at stake I had no choice but to surrender my existence, but the upside was something I never expected ...I finally became the man I always hoped to be. I was calm, at peace and completely rational, able to weigh up all pro’s and cons and appreciate everyone I met for who they were, good or bad, until the universe went mad and I was poisoned.”
“You were poisoned?” asked Sabine.
“Yes. Spectrox. It was either myself of my companion who survived and I did not want to see another of my traveling companions die.”
“ANOTHER companion?” Sabine asked.
“Another companion,” the Doctor replied solemnly. “The poison affected my regenerations and my outlook, it took me two more lives to get back to get back to the man I wanted to be and the poison finally left my system, but then came the war.”
“What war?” Sabine continued. The man who saved her suddenly seemed less appealing and slightly horrifying.
“The Great Time War,” the Doctor began. “Ever since then I have run through the cosmos not looking back, almost afraid to, but time catches up with you. I have to face who I am and what it means to be me. Have a drink.”
Sabine sucked on her tea and the Doctor pressed on.
“I have blood on my hands, the blood of a thousand races and I don’t want that. I am a threat to my friends as well as my foes and I can’t live like that any more, I want no more blood on these hands and no more deaths on my conscience so I say this to you now. Turn back and run. Whatever you think is the right thing to do, whatever you believe is the right path for you, leave it now. Run as far as you can because that is the only way I can guarantee your safety.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” said Sabine.
“If you don’t the only thing I can do now is apologise, I can only say sorry for what is about to happen,” said the Doctor, his eyes filled with remorse as he pushed himself off the chair and headed back to the console.
“Here...” began the Doctor as he flicked a switch for location.
“We...” he continued as he turned the dial for location.
“Go!” he concluded as he hit the button to set the TARDIS off on another mission.
The Doctor and Sabine crashed against the metal, slightly warm, floor of the Obliteration chamber as the Cybermen hurled them inside and slammed the door shut. The Doctor get up and pushed at the door as the Cyber-leader raised his hand to signal to his soldiers.
“WAIT!” yelled the Doctor. “You don’t have to do this!”
“Yes we do,” said the Cyber-Leader in his monotone cynthi-voice. “We have tried to kill you and failed due to your regenerations, we cannot turn you into us as that has failed and you have beaten us too many times for us to ignore you, therefore in order for the Cybermen to survive you have to be destroyed utterly as the force that holds your molecules together will be removed causing everything you are to be literally torn apart.”
The Doctor swallowed hard before responding.
“Cyber-leader, I have blood on my hands, the blood of a thousand races and I don’t want that. I am a threat to my foes as well as my friends and I can’t live like that any more, I want no more blood on these hands and no more deaths on my conscience, so I say this to you now. Turn back and run. Whatever you think is the right thing to do, whatever you believe is the right path for you, leave it now. Run as far as you can because that is the only way I can guarantee your safety.”
“Goodbye, Doctor,” said the Cyber-leader, with neither joy nor remorse in his voice.
“If you don’t the only thing I can do now is apologise, I can only say sorry for what is about to happen,” said the Doctor, his eyes burning with hatred, his voice tinged with anger, not for the Cyber-leader, but for the actions that had been forced on him. He moved his arm slightly and the sleek sonic screwdriver slipped into his right-hand.
“Here...” he said softly as he flicked a switch on the tiny, yet powerful, device.
“We...” he whispered as he flicked another switch and a faint hum escaped from the most adaptable weapon in the cosmos.
“Go!” the Doctor concluded as the Cyber-leader dropped his hand and the chamber was activated. The Doctor aimed the device at the control panel housing, the screwdriver emitting a powerful blast of anti-protons attempting to reverse the polarity of the Obliteration chamber. For a few second the Doctor could feel the outer dermis moving, tingling as the cells started to disentangle themselves. The molecules in his face began to vibrate and pull as they threatened to rip apart everything that he was and everything that he would ever be. The Doctor held his nerve as his assistant screamed, a blinding light encompassed his vision and then the Doctor phased out.
The Doctor opened his eyes and could see a darkness outside the chamber. The door that was sealed shut was now open.
“Sabine?” he said before moving to check on his companion. “SABINE!”
“Ugh!” a low moan behind him removed his fears and he turned to face her. She had passed out to under the shock but his shout had roused her. “What happened?”
“I reversed the polarity of the Obliteration chamber,” the Doctor explained. “It meant it cocooned us from the Obliteration rays.”
“And the Cybermen?” asked Sabine, anxiously.
“They did not fare so well,” said the Doctor as he left the housing. All around on the floor fizzed the empty suits of the Cyberman as all manner of biological material had been turned to dust by the Obliteration rays, leaving nothing inside but burnt out husks. The two time-travellers stepped past the fizzing suits to exit.
“Are they dead?” asked Sabine.
“For now,” replied the Doctor, cautiously. “The Cybermen’s suits have emergency protocol’s if the neural paths aren’t reignited after ten minutes to try and detect the nearest host body, so I suggest leaving at speed is still the best option.”
Sabine and the Doctor quickly stepped through the sleeping armour and ran through the corridors where the Cybermen had fallen like broken statues as the emotionless minds that had controlled them span through the air.
“On the upside,” said Sabine, sensing the Doctor’s black mood. “At least this way their’s no blood on your hands.”
“Oh it’s their all right,” the Doctor replied without looking back, his gaze merely falling on his fingers. “You just can’t see it. That’s all.”
The end.
Nods to Peter Capaldi’s eyes for being such a perfect image to match this story and Steven Moffat who has taken the series to new heights with his Doctor Matt Smith.
Arsene Wenger is, so far, having a decent season. His team still have their beloved Champions League football, they are still in the FA Cup as it hasn’t started for the top teams yet, and also the are top of the Premier League heading into November. Life is good if you’re an Arsenal fan.
BUT
Their game today comes on the back of two home defeats, as all the pundits are pointing out. Big Woo! Teams lose all the time and come back, look at United recently. They may be struggling but are still close enough to the top for it to be less of a concern (Or are they?) The big reason why the match today is so much bigger than in previous seasons is because Arsenal’s last defeat was a defeat by design rather than by chance.
Arsenal fielded a weakened team for the Milk/Rumblelows/Carling/Capital-One/League cup and this in turn means that the winning streak that was stopped due to Dortmund being the better side has been exacerbated by the manager himself. Usually in the past whenever he has done this it has lead to a loss of form that then affects the rest of the performances from here on in, until they regain form later in the season but not before the traffic bump has slowed things down so much that it then becomes impossible to win a trophy.
Admittedly this is probably the first time that Wenger has had a player who is capable of turning a game on it’s head in the shape of Mesut Ozil since Henry (No offence, Cesc!) and that may well be the key today to the Arsenal conundrum that has been going on for the best part of eight years. How do you stop your own winning streak without stopping your own winning streak? Mesut Ozil may well be the missing piece to solving this puzzle once and for all. We will see.
