Doctor Who Saturday - Names and the New Series

Originally written in 2008, I still kind of stand behind the theory.  Except for the part about Blondie

Episodes and the new series by Mike Heinrich 6/3/08

Two parters/three parters/50 minutes not long enough to tell a proper story...

You know what just occured to me? Well... four or five months ago, but still. It takes time to find a moment to write these things down.

Two essential truths. From a certain perspective-

1. The new series has in no way given up episodic storytelling
2. We've only had six new Doctor Who stories out of the new series.

If you think about it - comparing the episodic storytelling of the early Hartnells to the current series and all things being equal - it seems fundamental that we've only seen six new stories, each episode of whivch has its own individual title, and the overall titles of which never having been properly revealed/decided upon/ or seeming important. Compare Season 1 (New Series Dating) to The Dalek Master Plan. A: Number of parts written by different people with one guiding-ish story being told which meanders through different styles and subject, B: Daleks.
Which means of course that thirty years from now there are going to be a number of drunk 40-somethings fighting very passionately in a bar somewhere over whether it's 'Really' called Bad Wolf (because that's the crux of the story) or Rose (because that's the name of the first episode) or The Tribe of Gum (because they'll be drunk).

So for the sake of these future barflys, here's what I think they're sort of called-ish:

1.1 - Bad Wolf

A thirteen parter about the return of the Daleks, the Doctor's coming to terms with the tragic events of his recent path, and the mystery of 'Who or what is Bad Wolf?' A pretty good story, when looked at as a sum of its parts. And Aliens of London becomes strangely palatable when looked at as a modern-day Feast of Steven. And looking at it as one story saves us from having to argue about whether or not Adam counts as an 'official' companion. He's a one-story incidental character with a bit of thematic relevance and that's that. Doctor Todd or Will Chandler, basically. It also bumps Captain Jack from 'companion' to 'recurring character' which basically makes him a fabulous camp Brigadier - which is either a good thing, a bad thing, or of no significance, depending on your level of pedantry.

1.2 - The Christmas Invasion

A one parter regeneration story/Christmas special. And a charming one at that, btw.

1.3 - I'm not sure on this one... Rise of the Cybermen? The Age of Steel? Something clever and hitherto not attributed like Parallel Lines, which at least brings Blondie into the discussion, which is no bad thing? I think I lean toward The Age of Steel as it sounds dramatic and doesn't announce the identity of the monsters right off the bat. I suppose we could call it Torchwood...

A thirteen parter which brings back the Cybermen and writes out Rose.

1.4 - The Runaway Bride
Which could possibly be considered the mirror image of 'Cyberman Cutaway' and could arguably be 1.3a, I suppose.
A one parter/Christmas special

1.5 - either Last of the Time Lords or Mr. Saxon
A thirteen parter about the return of the Master and with one-off companion Martha Jones - truly the Sara Kingdom of our generation. Or not.

1.6 - Voyage of the Damned
A one parter which I haven't seen yet and thus can say nothing about. I may start trying to convince people that it's called The Terror of Kylie Minogue, however, for no reason whatsoever.

His Death Cult Had A Name-O

Newton's Second* Law of Inappropriate Workplace Conversation: 

-A Workplace conversation that is becoming increasingly inappropriate will tend to continue to grow increasingly inappropriate unless acted upon by an outside force.  Like HR.

 *His first law is the more widely known - Don't trust that Betty-Sue in Marketing.  She's a total bitch.  In case you were wondering.

Some of you may recall the recent story about our office-wide obsession with Teacup Pigs

Things have continued to spiral out of control from that point. 

For example, today the Teacup Pig Death Cult* was given an official name:  Persimmon Rain. 

*Someone please add that to the list of awesome band names. 

Persimmon, of course, is the name of the teacup pig.  It is now lost to history whether he was given the name Persimmon after becoming evil, or if the move to evil was precipitated by being given it.  Regardless, it suits him well, and has comprehensively stuck by this point. We have seen the face of evil.  And its name is Persimmon.  Hence, his death cult: Persimmon Rain.

This is pleasing on a couple of levels.  First of all, it sounds very mellow and chilled out.  The persimmon is a wild fruit related to the tomato, and the concept of having them rain down on you sounds very 'back-to-nature-y', although in reality it would probably hurt a little bit. It definitely sounds more relaxed and socially acceptable than 'small pig dancing in uncontrollable joy as the blood of the innocent pours down onto him from above', But then, what doesn't.

Second, that makes the Death Cult initials 'PR', which means that you can totally pass off your death cult related activities as being some sort of public relations exercise and the not-we will have no idea what you're really up to.

See Betty-Sue?  It all comes back to marketing.

The Vizsla in Question

It may not have entirely escaped attention that the Vizsla posts have been a tad... sparse... for the last few weeks.*

*On the other hand, it may have entirely escaped attention, in which case feel free to go about your business, nothing to see here.

The reason is simply that Willum, the titular (no giggling in the back) Vizsla has been undergoing some health issues lately. 

I should stress, he's OK.  He's just 14 years old (next week), which for a 70 lbs dog is a rich fair age.

But I'm not going to pretend that his age isn't, at this point, showing.  Which has made writing his column feel somewhat difficult just lately.

Again, I want to stress, he is alive and well.  Which is entirely today's point.  Willum is a great dog.  Outside of being an internationally known Internet pundit, he's loving, loyal, smart and kind.  He's the dog that people that hate dogs love.  He's one of a kind, as all dogs are, really.

And I realized that I was in a very real danger of never writing that down while he was here for me to rub his belly immediately after, and that is not OK.

Willum is a great dog, and he's alive, and we're here celebrating that today. You should take this moment to appreciate the dog that's still with you now, if you're lucky enough to have one with you now.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to rub a belly.

Tomorrow we'll return to daily frivolousness.

Vizsla Flashback - Advent Calendar Day 6 - The Mysterious Case of the Disappearance of Advent Calendar Day 5

From the Journals of Dr. John Watson.  (the proper Martin Freeman one.  Not Lucy Liu.  Never Lucy Liu)

It was then, as thunder crashed outside the drawing room windows, that we gathered around the numerous settees to listen as Benedict Cumberbatch outlined the facts of this, the most curious case of the Disappearing Day 5 of the Advent Calendar.

Benedict Cumberbatch began, 'I've gather you here this evening to outline the facts of this most curious case of th....'

'Yes Holmes,' I interrupted, 'I already said that in the lead paragraph'

'Quite', he retorted, throwing me an irritable look over those cheekbones that just go on for days and days and.. what was I talking about again...

'Balderdash!', ejaculated General Armstrong.  Which was still a totally legitimate verb at the time and nothing to be chuckled at - I'm looking at you, in the back.

'Our Case begins', Bennie C began again, 2 days ago on Advent Calendar day 4.  A day whose post - while actually existing - can only be accurately described as 'perfunctory'

'By Jove,' expostulated Lady Thistlewait from her hiding place behind the wainscoting.  'I thought it was a lovely post, in the spirit of advent calendars from all times.  It mentioned Candy and everything.  In big letters!'

'Poppycock. Lady Thistlewait.'  retorted B-Cum.  'Unadulterated poppycock.  He was clearly phoning it in that day.  And I'll thank you to never refer to me as 'B-Cum' again.  Not even in the supporting text.'

'Great Scott!' Ejaculated General Armstrong.  Fortunately he was wearing loose pants and no one noticed.

'No,' continued Benedict. 'The mystery truly began no less than twenty four hours later.  On a day in which, despite a clear precedent for such things being set, no Advent Calendar Post appeared.'

'Perhaps he was just busy at work!'  proclaimed the young Miss Devesham.

'It was probably Moriarty!' countered Professor Butternut.

'But which Moriarty?' wailed little Cora, 'The classic intellectual Moriarty of the written Canon, or the new, young Kooky Moriarty.  You know, the one played by John Sims'

'No No No,' blustered the Spinster Emily Pinwerthy.  'John Sims played the new Master on Doctor Who.  Moriarty was Andrew Scott.  You're just getting them confused because they're both very similar radical new takes on established villains within a larger storyline'

'Oh, right... right.' nodded Little Cora.  "You're right.  How foolish."

'It could,' chimed in the Great Plimsazio, 'Be that guy who writes film reviews under the name Moriarty for Ain't it Cool News'

'No,' Countered Miss Devesham, 'He writes for a different site now under his real name, Drew McWeeney'

'Seriously?' Spluttered the Colonel, 'His name is Seriously 'McWeeney??'

'Maybe that's why he's angry and stole yesterday's Advent Calendar post' suggested Valentina Ocipovna.

'Perhaps we should all just calm down and let B-Cu... I mean, Mr. Cumberbatch explain what really happened.' Someone tentatively put forward.

'No.  Nevermind.'  Benedict Cumberbatch said mulishly.  'It's too late.  I'm not going to tell you anymore.'

I Summon Thee, Teacup Pig! And The World Shall Bleed!

At the office for the past few weeks we've become obsessed with Teacup Pigs.

It all started with an offhand reference to them in an old episode of How I Met Your Mother.  This led to Googling, which led to adorable pictures, which led to the teacup pig becoming the focal point of a sort of demonic death cult, determined to use his adorableness as a means toward his ultimate goal of world domination/destruction.

You know, like these things do.

It ran something like this-

Monday:  Oh, look how Cute!  There's images of him online wearing tiny rain boots!

Tuesday: "I'm Teacup Pig, look how cute I am!"  <Said in high lilty adorable teacup pig voice>

Wednesday: "Look at my adorable long lashes!  Burn things for me!" <Still in high lilty voice>

Thursday:  <High Lilty Voice> "Kill them.  Kill them all."  <Normal Voice> "I don't know Teacup Pig... I mean... that seems a little har..." <Slightly more hysterical Lilty Voice>  "I Thought You LOOOVED me!  Kill Them!  Kill Them All!"

Friday:  <Increasingly disturbed high lilty voice> "Look!  Look at my adorable tiny hooves as I frolic and dance in a shower of blood of the innocent!  Make the innocent blood rain for teacup pig!  Rain!!  WHEEE WHEEEWHEE"


And so forth.

To make things more disturbing (If such a thing is possible) - we're in the middle of a massive building renovation that involves cleaning out all the storage spaces.  Going through a closet across the hall we discovered....

Now, I don't want to jump to any alarmist conclusions here... But I'm pretty sure he is the dark one come forth to end the world and we accidentally summoned him.

Sorry about that, planet...

Google Provides Yet Another Reason to Feel Bad about Ourselves as a Culture

So apparently someone has taken the time to look up what the most common Google Search request is in each of these, our 50 States of the Union.  (That would be the USA for the foreign readership.  FYI - prepare to feel culturally superior.  At least until someone looks up your nations most common search criteria.)

The US map with what each state looks for most on the Internet can be found here.

Now, first off - I live in Minnesota.  Where apparently we do a lot of Internet searching for 'Roller Blading'

The only explanation that immediately leaps top mind for this is that the bulk of Minnesota's search engine usage can be found in and around the Uptown area, and we can safely assume that the #2 most searched for item is 'Axe Body Spray'*

*Footnote for the not locals - that was funny as Hell.

The data seems to fall into a few general categories.

The first category - 'I totally would have guessed that'

Witness, for example, New Mexico and their online search for UFOs.  Totally makes sense.  I suspect you can probably mapqwest area 51 as well if you have the patience to try.  Similarly, Nevada's entry - 'Tattoo Removal'.  For when you're really anxious for something that happened in Vegas to stay in Vegas.  Then we see Alaska - Whose entry of 'Mail Order Brides' is only screaming out for a font that reads as slightly more desperate in order to be exactly what we were expecting to see there.

Then we look to Alabama and Mississippi, who are searching for Twerking and God.

This kind of feels right to me, since I'm not 100% sure which is Alabama and which is Mississippi* and frankly the concepts of Twerking and God are equally a waste of time as far as I can see.  Plus both make you look ridiculous on Youtube.

*Vizlsas- Not awesome with geography.  But hey, at least I can admit it.

Then we have the category of 'Public Shame'.  I can only imagine the taunting that takes place on the state line between Montana and South Dakota.

'You guys search for Meth!'

'Well at least it isn't Nickleback!'

(Note - I am unable to determine who's argument is sadder in this instance...)

Similarly, the 'sad-off' border dispute between Virginia and Kentucky.  Farmville v. Whitesnake.  You know, they're natural enemies in the wild.

But no one... NO ONE is sadder than Missouri... An entire state searching for The Family Circus.  Seriously... as a people they have become so despondent that they can't even be bothered Googling a cartoon that doesn't suck.  This is what a cry for help looks like people.  Right.  There.

The less said about Texas' 'Do I have Herpes' the better, beyond pointing out that this is yet another solid reason to not put up to much efforts into their push to secede...

Then there is the category of 'More information needed'

Why is Louisiana spending so much time googling The Golden Girls?  I mean, I kind of approve, but I'm bewildered by it.  Um... Washington...? WT comprehensive F??  Iowa- please tell me you're looking for the college and not the shitty musician.  Illinois, what are you thinki... ok, never mind, I'm not really surprised by that one.  Pennsylvania.  What about the topic needs further research on your part?  What more can there be to know about it??  Massachusetts - I see what you're doing there.

So, there it is.  Take some time to look at what we're looking at

Vizlsa Flashback - Very few dogs are on anti-depressants

It's worth noting - as far as just being happy in the moment and not letting things get to you unduly, dogs are head, shoulder and tail ahead of people.

That established, it's come to my attention that plenty of humans are prone to periods of mild to moderate depression (any more severe that that and you really shouldn't be talking to a dog about your troubles, you should be talking to a trained therapist.  You might also mention to them that you've taken to talking to dogs, as long as you're already there....)  Since I'm assured by reliable sources that the big three antidepressants preferred by dogs (Drinking out of the toilet, scooting, and licking your own snack-basket*) are for some reason off the table for the human population, here I present instead an overview of things people can do to cure those 'I only got two legs blues'

*If I might quote Bobby Cobb

A warm bath

-Surprisingly not as effective at curing depression as it feels like it should be.  Turns out that we use the word 'Wallowing' for a reason.

A brisk shower

-More helpful than you expect it's going to be.  Plus it never hurts.  Unless you're a wicked witch or made of sugar.  Then it would probably hurt.

Going for a run

-Less helpful than it feels like it should be.  Mostly it just allows you to reflect on how much less good of shape you're in than you would like to be.  Plus you get all sweaty.

Working out

-Same as for the above entry on Running, except with the added bonus of being surrounded by people who ARE in better shape than you are.

Meaningless Sex

-Well, now this depends on what you're depressed about.  If your depression is centered around 'I'm such a tramp, I'll never find true love because I'm giving the milk away for free, etc.' than this is not your option.  If your depression is based around 'I'm so unattractive, no one would ever want to have sex with me', than this one is golden.

Meaningful Sex.

-If you have access to this, what are you depressed about?

Buying yourself something pretty

-Again, it depends on context.  If you're sad because you have no money and you're about to miss another mortgage payment than this one is probably not a great option.

Hearing about the discovery of Doctor Who episodes thought to have been destroyed forever in 1974 turning up somewhere in Africa and about to be released on DVD

-Amazingly effective.  Bit hard to orchestrate though.

Drinking at home alone in the basement

-Turns out that this is 'unhealthy'.  Yes.  We were all surprised.

Snuggling up under covers with a dog and watching the entire Key to Time series.

-Best.  Thing.  Ever.

If You're Going to Be An Otter, Be A Butch Otter

So there's some hoo-ha going on in Idaho concerning a legal struggle between some people who would like to get married and some other people who have nothing better to do than worry about other people getting married.  Apparently their argument is based on a deliberate misunderstanding of a two thousand year old book that tells you who you're allowed to hate.*

*I admit that my understanding of their argument is a little hazy, based on the fact that I can only listen to stupid for so long before I zone out.  It seems to have a lot to do with aesthetics, NFL showering and not wanting to have to interact with their own children.  I know.  I don't get it either.

This is not what we're here to talk about.

What we're here to talk about is that fact that the news reporting of the whole hoo-ha occasionally causes you to come across sentences such as - "U.S. Magistrate Judge Candy W. Dale has denied Gov. Butch Otter's motion for a stay on her decision overturning Idaho's ban on same-sex marriages."

To which the obvious response is, 'I'm sorry, did you just say that the name of Idaho's Governor is 'Butch Otter?'

Yes.  Yes it is.

Well, sort of.  His given name is Clement Leroy Otter.  Butch is a nickname.  But nonetheless. Butch Otter. Governor Butch Otter.

Running his name through image search reveals a shocking lack of photoshopped pictures of Otters trying very hard to look all tough and hardcore (so someone out there in the Internet community really needs to get on that please), but does provide us with the info that he apparently accidentally appeared in a softcore porn in 1992.*

*This briefly raises the hope that Butch Otter was his porn name and he forgot to switch back when he ran for office, but no.

Top Five things a really Butch Otter might say-

1. Look at my cute little hands...  As they kick your ass.

2. The F150 totally has more room in the seat for my tail, which is thick at the base, muscular, flexible, and tapers to a point.

3. Yeah, Bob and I hold hands when we're floating down the river on our backs.  But it's just so that we don't drift apart while we're napping, don't make it creepy, bub.

4. I'm going to break open a clam with a rock... as soon as I finish rewiring my kitchen to install a dedicated receptacle circuit for the new garbage disposal

5. Yeah, I built that china hutch over there.  Suck it, Beavers.

 Lero

TRead more here: to 

 

5whhttp://www.idahostatesman.com/2014/05/13/3183291/judge-rules-idaho-gay-marriage.html#storylink=cpy

Things You Don't Say to Vegans

First off, let me say uncatagorically that I am completely down with Vegans. I know several of them and I'm totally rolling in positive attitude toward Veganism.  I could never convert myself, as anyone who recalls the great attempt at 30 days without sugar of 2013 can attest, but I'm down with it in a supportive 'not really my thing, but I'm cool with you being into it' kind of way.  You know, like Crossfit*.

*Interestingly enough, the other connection between the two is that you will never have to ask anyone if they are involved in either Crossfit or Veganism.  It will come up.  Particularly on Facebook.

That established...

Over the course of the last couple of days, I've found myself repeatedly saying things to Vegans that one should not say to Vegans.  And I'm sharing this knowledge with the world so that you all can avoid my mistakes.  See, I'm just like Mother Freakin' Theresa.

Conversation One:

Them:  I kind of enjoyed going to the shooting range, but I wouldn't ever go hunting.

Me:  Why not?

Them:  Well, the whole Vegan thing  (See, it does come up)

Me: Well, you don't have to eat them.  I mean... you could just leave them to die where you shot them.

Long awkward pause.

OK, let's take a look at where I went wrong with this one.  First error - forgetting that the person I was talking to was a Vegan.  Obviously she wasn't planning on going out to plug Bambi for jerky-related purposes.  Having forgotten that momentarily I was then forced to come up with some sort of rationale that made sense of my assuming she might go hunting while not admitting that I had forgotten the whole veganism thing.

For the record, apparently leaving the carcass to rot where you shot it does not, in actual fact, make the situation ethically acceptable to vegans.  In case you were wondering.

Conversation Two:

Them: I would totally survive in a zombie apocalypse.  

Me: Does the whole zombie thing only affect people?

Them:  What?

Me: I mean, do all the animals also become zombies?  Do slaughterhouses stop making hamburger and instead just start making angry zombie cows?

Dear Reader,

Aside from the questionable decision to bring slaughterhouses into an unrelated conversation, it turns out that the words 'Angry Zombie Cows' are not a great plan.  Which is surprising to me, because I would have thought that the whole 'cows take back the night' angle would appeal to the vegan aesthetic.  Perhaps I would have been better off not having continued on with 'Calf brains... must eat delicious calf brains...' but, you know, you live and you learn.

So, again - Vegans, Crossfit people, Romans - We're still cool, right?

Vizsla Flashback with addendum - Seriously Mother Nature?

Hi.  Welcome to Flashback Sunday, the day of the week when we typically reprint an old column in a crass attempt to do as little as possible with the day.

However, it's also Mothers Day, which led me to think that it would be nice to reprint some Mother-related column from the past, thereby checking both boxes.

Unfortunately, a search of the site has led me to discover that I've never actually written about Mothers, which puts an unfortunate hitch in my giddy-up.

In fact, the following column seems to be the only one that even features the word Mother in the title.  This is obviously a serious oversight and shall be corrected.  On another day.  For now however we're rolling with this one from April 2013, since it does at least mention the word 'Mother' and the weather has been equally ass this year is it was then, so the point still stands.

Plus some fun facts about Hungary!

Happy Mothers Day, world.

...

Seriously, Mother Nature?

Note:  As I type this (which is harder than you might imagine, in that I have no opposable thumbs thank you very much) it is currently snowing.  6-10 inches.  On April 19th: A day in which your average domestic breed might expect sunny weather and possibly bunnies to chase.

Now, as a sporting breed I actually like snow.  Plus I'm Hungarian, which means that I'm totally down with both  A: being cold for most of the year, and B: being  intermittently invaded from either side.

But still... SERIOUSLY?

And while we're talking about Hungary-  Were you aware that ownership of a Vizsla in Hungary was at one time a sign of being nobility?

Which is all very flattering and all that... until the revolution comes and the peasants rise up.  You know what happens then?   Nothing good for the Vizlsas, that's what!

Which is just my roundabout way of saying- haven't we, the Vizslas suffered enough?

Knock it off already!

Vizsla out.

Holy Crap, Brave Little Toaster!

If you're like me, you occasionally find yourself thinking, 'Self, why aren't there quicker ways to emotionally damage children?'*

*Not that I would ever think that...

Well, if you've ever thought that then you've clearly never seen Disney's The Brave Little Toaster.  Also you might be a sociopath.


Why, as recently as this morning I counted myself amongst that happy number.  Sadly, my eyes have been opened now.

I refer specifically to... The Clown Dream Sequence.

I'll wait a moment for your shaking to stop.

Ready?

OK, I'll wait a bit longer.  Maybe you should step outside for a breath of fresh air, or a smoke or something.  You know, if you smoke.  I wouldn't encourage anyone to start smoking as a result of the Clown Dream Sequence, although God knows I'd understand.  I mean, did you SEE that thing??

The obvious comment here is HOLY SHIT!!!!!  And then strenuous attempts to claw your own eyes out.

Now, I'm not sure at what point Disney decided that they hated children, put clearly it was at some point before they storyboarded the giant smoke-demon hand turning into psychotic fireman clown.*

*Not a sentence you can work into every conversation.

That... Does Not Happen in My Neighborhood

So the noteworthy news of the day-

Apparently in Colorado, the day before yesterday, a small aircraft flying a banner crashed into a house in the suburbs.

The notable part of the story - The pilot of the plane was also a local firefighter who immediately started to put the fire out with a garden hose.*

*Original reports had him parachuting out of the plane and then fighting the fire, which would have been more awesome, but like most awesome things has turned out to not be true.

So, what happened was that a firefighter, who was also a pilot, walked away from crashing his plane (into a house that he used to own, just to up the WTF meter) and immediately turned back into a firefighter and started... you know... fighting the fire.  I'm assuming that he immediately stripped off his fuel soaked clothes and fought the fire nude while whistling 'Fire in Cairo' by The Cure.

You know what this means.

Suck it, Canada.

You can read the entire story here.

To be fair - His mom really liked him

The night before last I had a dream that I was watching a dog's naming ceremony*

*Clearly the ceremony where a dog appears on stage and a very nice MC announces to the world what the dog's name is going to be.  Come on, keep up people.

I don't remember what breed the dog in question was, but the MC announced, 'Because of his friendliness, he shall be named after the very quintessence of friendliness himself.  The man who embodied friendliness. This dog's name shall be 'James Buchanan.'  Because he is so James Buchanany'

Vizsla Flashback - Every Band Has a Birthday Song

When you're a big successful rock band, one of the absolute necessities is that you have your own Birthday themed song.  It's just one of many ways in which big time rock bands are like Applebees*.

*Also, both invest a lot of time in Appeteasers.

Now, we're all familiar with the Beatles 'You Say it's Your Birthday' (or whatever the actual title of that song is) and The Smith's 'Unhappy Birthday' (oh, Morrissey- I see what you did there.)

But were you aware of these other Birthday themed hits?


'It's Your Birthday Purple Washing Machine James Buchanan' 
 - They Might Be Giants

'For Your Birthday I Urinated on a Hobo'
 - The Sex Pistols (R. Kelly does a nice cover of this)

'Don't Make me Cut You (It's Your Birthday')
 - Li'l Kim

'Happy Bir.. Oh Why Even Bother.' 
 - Nirvana

 'Girl, girl girlgirl go'n sex you up t'naight (Birthday Club Re-mix)
 - N Sync

'Ass'
- Anne Murray

'Happy Birthday, My Special Pookie Bear'
 - Marilyn Manson

You've got options, people.  That's all I'm saying.

This is all Peter Capaldi's Fault

And welcome back to the ever faltering Doctor Who Saturday feature.

As you may or may not already know, a while ago I began a side job writing about Doctor Who for Whatculture.com.  As I've also gone on endlessly about, this side job came to an abrupt end a month or two ago when they closed my writer's account on the premise that I hadn't actually contributed anything in quite some time.  And as I mentioned last Saturday, they also re-instated me as a contributing writer after I emailed them and requested another go. 

Side note - My new editor's name is 'Ed'.  Which is endearing.  He introduced himself in a very nice email in which he said he wanted to be my Liam Neeson-esque mentor in improving my work, only with less burning down my house, which made me immediately fond of Ed.

This whole sequence of events is, of course, Peter Capaldi's fault.  Clearly.

My reasoning is thus - Back in February, in the old school system of pitching articles, I put in a pitch for an article entitled '11 Doctor Who stories that the Peter Capaldi era should learn from.'*  My pitch was accepted quite quickly, and then sat untouched for months in my 'to do' pile.  This was more or less the situation that led to my being put out to pasture from the job.

*It's still going to happen, for anyone who might be interested.  Ed seems quite enthusiastic about it.

This is clearly Peter Capaldi's fault, because the promise of a whole new era of Doctor Who about which I know absolutely nothing is so dang mesmerizing that all I can really do in its face is stare blankly and think about pudding, no matter how much I really am looking forward to using the opportunity to talk lovingly about The Aztecs*.

*Spoiler alert.  One of the 11 is going to be the Aztecs.

In fact, I feel like Peter Capaldi is such a good excuse on this front that I'm planning on using him as my go to excuse for everything from now on.  Trouble at work?  Totally Peter Capaldi's fault.  Spent too much on Daiquiri's at Applebees*?  Damn you Peter Capaldi!  Premature ejaculation?  I'm sorry, I was thinking about Peter Capaldi.**

*Gratuitous Jonathan Coulton reference.  It was just the 1st of May.

**Not that that would ever... I mean... Damnit Capaldi!

Now, if you'll excuse me I have to finish signing up for Skype so that I can talk to Ed about future articles.  I'm having trouble getting my account set up.  Thanks, Capaldi.  Thanks.