On Doctor Who, Torchwood and Red Dwarf

(SPOILER ALERT: Just stop reading now if you haven't watched this summer's Torchwood. Skip on down to paragraph two, and dry your tears).

Last night I went to bed later than I should have considering I had spent the last 48 hours bitterly bemoaning my fate in life from the comfort of our crappy futon couch (did I mention at any point that during this deep self-analytical weekend, I had to get off the couch to pinch the orange lover's tail down to make him stop peeing on the wires that keep the tortoise's tank hot and lit with the correct spectrum of desert rays?). The Boy, Wikus and I watched the last two episodes of this summer's Torchwood miniseries. It had to do with saving the world's children, which was kind of disappointing in the end because instead of killing off a majority of children, they decided to kill of a man character. That is not a world I would to live in at all. Ianto Jones, how I will miss your pinstriped suits and blue eyes. Sure, you somehow got quite thicky between Torchwood 2 and the miniseries, but I forgive you because how I see it is you knew you were being killed off so you just simply gave up on worrying about what food you ingested. Good for you, buddy.

By the time we finished with Torchwood, it was already past 11pm, which if you know me, is way past my bedtime. I go to bed when 8-year-old children are still splashing around in the bathtub. I'm out approximately 2 minutes from lights out and head on pillow. I know, I'm blessed. However, I really must read a bit before going to bed. It makes me feel a little less guilty about my life of never-ending sloth. As far as last night went, it was already so late, but I should have been finished with my new book if I hadn't suffered through a 48-hour migraine and the La Brea tar pit of snot I have in my chest and sinuses.

Much to my extreme pleasure, the last chapter I read before having to give up due to crossing eyes, started out with the twins watching an episode of Doctor Who. If that wasn't exciting enough, it was my favorite episode of Doctor Who, "The Girl in the Fireplace." I'm not 100% sure that this episode lines up directly with the plot's timeline, but I am not complaining really. Nor am I so interested to go back and reread 136 pages just to see if it lines up correctly because I am totally prepared to forgive Audrey Niffenegger these trespasses. This episode of Doctor Who had me running to my laptop to explore Madame de Pompadour. Who says that tv is rotting our brains?

As to my watching of Doctor Who and Torchwood, blame Wikus (just as he must blame me for Buffy and Angel, whom I must blame on Twatwich in Boston--see none of us have any original ideas, we just keep being peer-pressured by our friends). The first time I watched Doctor Who was some time in the early '90s when I was 16 or 17 with my boyfriend at the time. We'll call him Morrissey for a good laugh. We used to watch Doctor Who and Red Dwarf on the PBS station at his apartment. At that time, PBS was showing episodes featuring the fourth doctor (Tom Baker), and Morrissey would always tell me how the indoor scenes were video and the outdoor scenes were film (I may have this flipped, it was ever so long ago). I didn't enjoy Doctor Who much then (more sex in the bathtub was what I wanted at that time and fruit punch, man, I loved a nice glass of fruit punch as a teenager). However, not really knowing much about Doctor Who, I totally just assumed Tom Baker was the only Doctor. At college, there was a guy who totally was Tom Baker and more. It was like he was the uber-Tom Baker Doctor Who. He even had this 6' multicolored striped scarf with question marks on it. We called him Penis Nose. Such ugly people we were back then, and probably still are. Seriously, Penis Nose.

(More SPOILERS below, skip this paragraph if you really don't want to know what happened in Torchwood this summer.)

I only got in to Doctor Who recently because Wikus a) wouldn't shut up about the music and its history, and b) he was watching all of the episodes (well, those that weren't lost), and said I would probably enjoy the "new" series (he does know what I like). Then of course I had to watch Torchwood because it all ties in, and well, it is the slutty version of Doctor Who and that is something I can get behind (ha, "behind!"). All that making out makes me sad that there is no confirmation if there will be a fourth series/miniseries of Torchwood. Considering they've now killed off most of the staff who made out, I guess it doesn't really matter.

From all those years ago, Red Dwarf is the show that stuck with me, and I believe I have almost every season on DVD now. I really enjoy singing the outro, and not just when I'm watching Red Dwarf, but say here, at my desk. It reaches to an impossible range that I can only squeak out like a rodent being slammed in to a wall by one of my cats. My voice breaks but I keep going. I may be The Boy's significant other, I still cannot sing (no matter how many times someone he knows asks me if I am a singer). He says I am a soprano, but ha, I can't even belt out the Red Dwarf outro song. Lame. It's a funny little song. Check it out.

Now I just have to wait to meet the new Doctor and his assistant. I'm tired of starry-eyed assistants, but it seems that both the Doctor and sidekick are getting younger and younger. I suppose that what television needs to do to keep up with a fickle young crowd. Sigh. Wikus can get really angry over this development, so you may no want to bring it up with him unless you re ready to sit through at least an hour-long rant. Good luck with that.