(no subject)
This is not a comment I would dare to make were I sober. I'm drunk; so drunk that in shertain plashesh I deshide to talk like thish: but nonetheless there something I must say regarding Doctor Who and its fandom.
Doctor Who is an odd show. Each of us a creature of our time, whether we be children of the First, Second, Third, or Fourth... the list goes on. Several of us, several I respect, are children of the Seventh. And now there are children of the New. New_Who fans - some of whom love the Ecclestone and hate the Tennant - and... I am not one of any of these!
I am a child of the hiatus; a favourite of none, nothing of nothing; and for the longest time I looked back in fear, and in wonder, and I blamed the old fans, who would kill what they claimed to love, for the destruction of the show I never had the chance to watch as a new fan, as a new fan.
And then RTD brought it back, and there was celebration, and joy for a time. Last year, I know that there were some who regarded things as less than perfect, since it was not the show of their memories (not realising that such a show had ever truly existed outside of their memories); but with the spirit of nostalgia they look back upon last year as a wonderful precursor of this year; maybe they blame 10nant, claiming he is not fit to lick Chris' boots, as contemporary fans said, of Tom can, you believe it!, or maybe they blame RTD, and maybe... I just don't know.
All I know is... I am Pain. Please don't kill my show, you who call youself its fans! Not again! Not again!
(The author is not responsible for these words; alcohol was).
Doctor Who is an odd show. Each of us a creature of our time, whether we be children of the First, Second, Third, or Fourth... the list goes on. Several of us, several I respect, are children of the Seventh. And now there are children of the New. New_Who fans - some of whom love the Ecclestone and hate the Tennant - and... I am not one of any of these!
I am a child of the hiatus; a favourite of none, nothing of nothing; and for the longest time I looked back in fear, and in wonder, and I blamed the old fans, who would kill what they claimed to love, for the destruction of the show I never had the chance to watch as a new fan, as a new fan.
And then RTD brought it back, and there was celebration, and joy for a time. Last year, I know that there were some who regarded things as less than perfect, since it was not the show of their memories (not realising that such a show had ever truly existed outside of their memories); but with the spirit of nostalgia they look back upon last year as a wonderful precursor of this year; maybe they blame 10nant, claiming he is not fit to lick Chris' boots, as contemporary fans said, of Tom can, you believe it!, or maybe they blame RTD, and maybe... I just don't know.
All I know is... I am Pain. Please don't kill my show, you who call youself its fans! Not again! Not again!
(The author is not responsible for these words; alcohol was).