Express Delivery (Choose Your Own Adventure variant)

You pause to adjust your jerkin.  An odd whistling sound rises inquisitively inside your head.  The strange sky-desert is otherwise silent, so this causes you some alarm.  Five badger-sized creatures suddenly appear in the distance.  You freeze.  The creatures are all facing away from you, transfixed by something flickering in the overhead darkness.  None of them have any cake.

Do you:

   Listen to the creatures?
   Wait and see what's causing the flickering?
   Attempt to engage the creatures in conversation?
   Walk away?
   Slay them and claim victory?

Three-Fold Musing

As a long-time fan of such clevernesses, I was very impressed. 

Three women, three women, three women. 

Bravo.

- Dave Sim

Thousands of years ago, which can’t be right, I lived in a house on top of a hill and next to a park.  Although time’s compressed those years into a single layer of memory, a couple of instances still glitter like iron pyrites.  The first book I read zoetropes into the day I set the school long jump record before becoming an x-ray of a fractured clavicle.  Quick-fire gallery of head injuries: climbing frame; rock; warehouse door; an unexpected tree and then the strobing freezes with the dog bite that made me miss Hancock donating blood.  Eventually your childhood moments’ll become baggage like this, unique experiences hardening into a personality and a worldview.  For the most part, over the years we get better at hiding who we were, kidding ourselves that we’re growing up and ‘maturing’, rather than decaying a little more with every entropy-drenched footstep. It’s hilarious really.

Part of whatever it is that hides behind my eyes formed through comics.  One of the brightest flecks from the past is the day that I got a letter from Pat Mills.  Both of you know who I’m talking about, but just in case any civilians have wandered in, I’ll thread in some background.  Pat Mills helped create 2000 AD, and has always been one of its most influential writers.  It was while he was writing Slaine for Fabry that we started corresponding.  I was presumptuous and cheeky, in the way that an invincible hormone cauldron will always be.  To his credit, Mr Mills read what I wrote and offered helpful suggestions.  I was still too young to run away and join the union, so, as recommended, I read The White Goddess instead.1 

I spent a good fortnight wading through the copy I'd ordered from the library.  I lugged it around in my schoolbag, leaving it sitting conspicuously on my desk during lessons to see if any of my teachers would bite.  Unfortunately, they’d got used to the James Herberts, Guy N. Smiths, various Omen novelisations and individual issues of Watchmen, so this was a hiding to nothing with all of them, except my History teacher, who pounced on it before offering me some golden advice that we haven’t got time to go into today.

There’s a famous saying about opinions that’s funny, scatological and totally inaccurate.  Our opinions form as a result of our experiences, upbringing, societal values and everything I was pretending to go off on one about in the opening paragraph.3 In many ways our culture conditions us, which is part of the reason our prejudices growl whenever we’re stimulated.  Well, yours don’t, obviously, but that’s because you’re-

No, that’s not going to go anywhere.  You’re just as prone to confirmation bias as the rest of us.  We all, to varying degrees, seek out information that backs up what we already think and ignore any that doesn’t, that’s how we’re set up.  Confirmation bias is as fundamental a building material of whatever this nebulous consciousness thing is made up of, as apophenia is.  We’ll get back to that.4  You already know all this anyway. 

Opinions are less escape hatch and more feedback loop, similar to the effect achieved by standing between two mirrors; your reflection bounces between the shiny surfaces, creating a disorientating illusion that looks a lot like infinity, but isn’t.  If you replace yourself (and the mirror, before it wears out) with an experience then you’ll create an opinion.  Despite the cherry-picked evidence to the contrary, all of your opinions are generated internally.  Y’know, like faith.

Without confirmation bias and apophenia, conspiracy theories would starve to death.  Horrible mess, yes, but both the internet and Doctor Who5 forums would be much quieter places as a result.  It’s painful, but it doesn’t hurt to challenge your opinions.  Try and argue the viewpoint that’s the polar opposite of your own.  Listen to the podcasts that you don’t agree with.  See if you can understand exactly what it is that causes your veins to become ropes and the subsequent froth to ruin your, otherwise lovely, jumper. 

I’ve said this before, so don’t get annoyed.  Doctor Who and Who fans5 have come to represent something that looks worryingly similar to a religion.  There’s a central figure who, over the last half century, has become at least as real as Robin Hood ever was and, possibly, occupies the same real estate of the human mind that other folk heroes, demons and gods do.  On top of that, there’re the sacred texts, the ‘canon’ being revealed weekly by the Baker Street Boy currently acting as the Doctor’s voice in Cardiff.  Every separate revelation gets torn apart like it’s a commandment.  There are as many different interpretations as guests at each argument.  I’ll leave aside the apocrypha for the moment, partly because there isn’t time but mostly because it doesn’t matter. 

There’s a lot of anger amongst Who Fans5 and this might well come down to shaky faith.  The thing with faith is that it doesn’t stand up to evidence, or, more correctly, proof.  The problem with proof, of course, is confirmation bias.  It sidles up, whistling, then turns your head so you’re only looking at the bits that make sense to you because they fit with what you already thought.  However you’ve constructed your opinion, it’ll only ever take a tiny bit of levering to bring it all down.  Luckily, you can always refuse to listen.6 Texts, as you already know, can be made to say anything.  Any interpretation backed up with textual examples is valid.  Now, we’re getting somewhere. 

I don’t for a moment think that Mark Gatiss ever intended any of the awkward interpretations that have been applied to the majority of his Doctor Who scripts.  They’re there because he’s drawing from a well that’s situated firmly in the Imperialist section of Hartley’s foreign country.  Likewise, I’m not going to discuss missing episodes, leaks, whether Auntie and Uncle Sam are dancing yet, or any of the other pro-am keyboard chatter that may or may not have spillaged since Kill the Moon went live.7  What I am going to do is offer three interpretations of recent Doctor Who that are just as valid as the ones in your head.  Or your browser history.

First.  Either Steven Moffat’s rewriting history or he’s actually Fenric.  Yes, his character Clara absorbed fifty years of Doctor Who into her back story, but did you notice the way she erased Idris while doing so?  If you ignore what’s been said recently about Moffat writing the lion’s share of The Doctor’s Wife, then this makes total sense.  Also, you’ll note that Neil Gaiman’s sophomore Doctor Who script was nobbled, like poor Silver Blaze, by a combination of miscasting and dubious directing.  And that’s dubious directing from someone on his first Doctor Who, so he’s obviously been set up to fail.  The fact that the director in question started his career working on Neverwhere adds a certain spice.  And, when I tell you that he worked on the David Yates directed Harry Potter films?  Yes, the same David Yates who announced he’d be directing the new Doctor Who film.  Remember that?  Obviously, since Matt Smith took over, there's been a reign of terror at Roath Lock.  It’s the only explanation that fits all the facts.  And Private Eye said so.   

Although the case is already watertight, I’ll throw in some bonus stages that Moffat has to be taking on his terrifying ascent to the rank of Imperial Grand Moff.  How many stories does he need to produce to beat J.N-T’s run?  How many regenerations until he’s handled the most?  How many years until he’s the longest-running producer?  How many Doctors until he’s written more than anyone else?  And, precisely how much actual rice pudding is needed before it can be classed as 'unlimited'?  Chilling stuff, I’m sure you’ll agree.  It’s not even slightly possible that this is a severely clever chap doing an impossible job whilst operating at the very peak of his abilities, because that’d be too... mundane. 

Next. Moffat’s weird White Goddess obsession.   Graves decided the Goddess represented the three-fold muse that drives poets first to a writing desk and then round the bend.  Although recently co-opted as a Wiccan symbol representing the different stages the Moon goes through - “Hello, Earth.” - there’s a long history of triple Goddesses popping up in different cultures throughout history, all overseeing mortals.  The three aspects are often described as Maiden, Mother and, as Terry Pratchett so delicately put it, ‘the Other One’.  There’s a definite lunar association, well, we’re talking about Diana and Selene aren’t we?  Tempting as it would be to mention Steve Moore here and Neil Gaiman here, I won’t.  Let’s just say that there’s potentially a lot more going on in Kill the Moon than people who haven’t read Sandman or watched Genesis of the Daleks might notice.2 

Jung connected the archetype of the Triple Goddess to Zeus, suggesting, at a stretch, a kind of companionship.  “It’s your moon, Womankind.”  That sounds like the sort of thing a male god might say.  So, Courtney’s the Maiden but neither Lundvik nor Clara are mothers, though, at a push, Hermione Norris could be playing-  Oh, wait.  It’s 2049.  How old’s Orson Pink now?  And, if she’s his grandmother, wouldn’t that make Clara… the Other One?  I said Moffat had an obsession with the Goddess and then left it dangling.  You’re probably thinking I won’t mention Amelia, River and Amy, but you’d be wrong.  And then, because you know where this is going, you’ll point out that the three aspects of the Goddess are supposed to represent the sky, the earth and the underworld.  Clara’s obviously the sky, Courtney’s quite down to earth but- well, you’ve got me on the last one. 

As long as nobody says ‘nethersphere’.

Finally.  Moffat gets his ideas from me.  This is, by far, the most convincing theory.  We know for a fact from the new title sequence that the head priests of Who constantly watch Who Fans.5  Last year, I wrote a selection of pieces for a Doctor Who website that handled more than two hits a day.  Amongst other things, I pointed out that it might be an idea if the music sold the dialogue rather than vice versa; if you’re writing ‘trapdoors’ into the architecture of the arc structure then it might be an idea to close them before something terrible escapes, clutching a thesaurus in its trolly claws and doing barking.  Both of these suggestions have been acted upon.  But, here’s the proof.  These are the final words of mine the site published.

Basically, it’s not you.  It’s me. 

None of this means anything.

- Anon

1.  What you might not know is that Mr Graves wrote the novelisation of the popular BBC sitcom about a dysfunctional Roman family that your parents loved.  It starred Brian Blessed, that nice Professor Yana and the War Doctor.2

2.  “I’m making perfect sense, you’re just not keeping up.”

3.  You’d almost think it was planned.

4.  The Library Angel.  Lovely lady.  Didn’t I already introduce you?

5.  That’s how you spell it.

6.  I found out yesterday that my ongoing Season 8/Series 34 theory had been dragged into an alley and given a thorough kicking by the relentlessly enthusiastic Doctor Who Extra EPK.  Serves me right for ignoring it.  Bah. 

7.  Doctor Who’s never been science-fiction.  Most of ‘science-fiction’, or ‘speculative fiction’ if you’re after a grown-up writing prize isn’t even ‘scientifiction’ as it was originally known.  Science grew out of alchemy, which is still also hugely misunderstood.  Alchemy was never about turning lead into gold.  That was purely symbolic.  I do still think Jane Austen wrote sub-par fanfic.

Kill the Moon (time shift)

 

Those who cast the votes decide nothing.  Those who count the votes decide everything.

- Stalin 

Or (if you want to be all obvious about it)

Speak when you are angry and you will make the best speech you will ever regret.

- Ambrose Bierce

Me:  'They had to hire an actor without skin'?  

Him:  Ha!

Me:  At this stage, I should probably say we’re just watching the next time trailer for Mummy on the Orient Express.  It looks brilliant.  Okay.  Here goes…

(Pause.)

The Moonbase and trays; Let’s Kill Hitler; The Ark in Space and yo-yos as gravity testing equipment; the J. N-T reference to “hanky-panky”; the Brigadier; Starship Troopers; there was an essence of Melancholia to it, the film that is-

Him:  The film?

Me:  The film Melancholia, yeah.  The scene on the beach was the most obvious moment, but there were little touches throughout.  The swearing was a little bit of a surprise – but I guess the Moon brings that out in people.1  And there were definite echoes of Apollo 18, the found footage film about… well, the ‘spiders’ in Kill the Moon.

Him:  Are you going to replace ‘thing’ with the actual number after you look it up?

Me:  Yeah, but no-one’ll notice when I’ve typed it.

Him:  But now you can’t, because either way-

Me:  Also, one thing I’ve noticed which has nothing to do with anything, is the moment when our heroes aren’t being sailors on the Moon but they’re-

Him:  “We’re whalers on the Moon/We carry a harpoon/But there ain’t no whales/So we tell tall tales/And sing our whaling tune”

Me:  Ha!  So, here’s a tall tale that shows that not everything’s always connected.2  At one point, in the background, there are three boxes, each labelled separately with the code twenty-three then a slash and then another number. 

Him:  No, no, no.  It’s twenty-three slash seventy-seven, then twenty slash eighty, and seventeen slash eighty-three.

Me:  Was it?  I thought they were all twenty-three?

Him:  Nope.

Me:  Okay.  Well, do you know what happened in 1977, 1980 and 1983?

Him:  No.

Me:  Those were the release dates of the first three Star Wars films.

Him:  Does that matter?

Me:  No, it’s got nothing to do with anything.  Right, Kill the Moon.  Oh – can I say my Courtney thing?

Him:  “We’re whalers on the Moon/We carry a harpoon”

Me:  Did you notice that Courtney ends up marrying Blinovitch?

Him:  Yeah, I did.  Is that the chap who came up with the recommendation effect?

Me:  I think it might be, yeah.  As both our readers will find out for themselves, if they scroll down to the bottom of this page.  Apart from the moment after that amazing scene where Clara basically breaks up with the Doctor – apart from that, fair play to Murray Gold.  He nearly went back to his old tricks and destroyed the mood for the scene between Danny and Clara.  The music there wasn’t good at all and detracted from-  I was thinking, “Is this still the same programme?”  The music throughout the rest was really good.3

Him:  “Evena boardedupa windows donta keep out Murraygold!”

Me:  Nothing can keep him out.  Some of that was filmed on Lanzarote.  There was a ‘secret’ working title drip-fed out to start fans salivating, in much the same way that J. N-T once had ‘The Doctor’s Wife’ written on a whiteboard listing upcoming stories that he purposefully made sure was in photos.  He was trying to find out where leaks in the office were coming from.  This script was ‘provisionally’ entitled 'Return to Sarn', Planet of Fire also being filmed on Lanzarote.  The location work gave it a wonderfully alien look.  To me, it looked almost black and white.

Him:  Yes, you did say that.  Repeatedly.  “Wow!  That looks black and white!”

Me:  And speaking of black and white.  In The Moonbase there’s a moment where a puncture gets blocked-

Him:  That’s like a coin landing on its side fifty times in a row.  After being dropped into a bowl.

Me:  Derren Brown did it ten times.

Him:  Not on its side.

Me:  Not on its side.

Him:  And not fifty times.

Me:  Another Troughton reference of course, was the, “When I say ‘run’, run.”

Him:  But then he didn’t say, “Run.”

Me:  Well.  I wasn’t expecting to be asked those sort of questions to be honest.4

Him:  Okay.  Japan.

Me:  What about Japan, Great Healer?

Him:  Well, it’s a big country.

Me:  Yeah.

Him:  On the other side of the world from where Clara and the rest happened to be viewing.  They’d probably all’ve been asleep to begin with, if they weren’t busy-

Me:  So they didn’t get a vote?

Him:  Basically.

Me:  Half of humanity didn’t get a vote really.

Him:  Yup.  And it’s also the more populated half.  Involving China.

Me:  Oh yeah.  Anyway, it didn’t matter because what they voted for… they didn’t get anyway.  That’s democracy in action.

Him:  Maybe the other half voted, “No, no, no, don’t kill the thingy.”

Me:  Sell the Space Whale.

Him:  Even though it’s a Star Whale.  As I keep saying. '#SaveTheWhale'.  That was an odd, odd, odd episode.

Me:  It’s laid another egg.

Him:  Humanity would’ve died anyway, whether they blew it up or not.  We need a moon to survive.  But then, I was annoyed that when it hatched it was instantly able to fly.  Things shouldn’t be able to fly the second they hatch.  It shouldn’t have had feathers and it can’t have anything else that’ll enable it to fly.

Me:  If indeed it had feathers.  Bearing in mind we aren’t watching in eye-bleeding Hi-Def on a screen the size of a football pitch.

Him:  I know.  It could have been like a big butterfly.  But, it couldn’t have been like a big butterfly.

Me:  Polly the Glot?

Him:  It could’ve been…  It would actually explain it more if it was a big butterfly and the Moon was just the chrysalis.  That would also go some way toward explaining the cobwebs that didn’t make any sense and that would also explain why a) it was able to fly and b) lay another egg the second it hatched.

Me:  That’s fair enough.

Him:  When a caterpillar spins its cocoon does it know it’s going to be a butterfly?

Me:  I don’t think they get given a handbook.  Do you think it’s just automatic?

Him:  I don’t know.

Me:  It must be an automatic process-

Him:  You’ve been a caterpillar before.

Me:  Yeah, but that was a long time ago.  I can’t really remember what I thought.  Is the butterfly that emerges the same creature that went in?  Because they change completely-

Him:  They alter and they’re mush in the interim period.

Me:  Yeah.  Everything changes around.  It’s like Trigger’s Sugababes theory.

Him:  As opposed to that thing about the Sugarcubes?

Me:  Ha!  Bjork!  Which slowly brings us back to Lars von Trier and Melancholia.

Him:  So, if you keep changing around the fructose and glucose that’s in it, is the sucrose still the same?

Me:  Awww.  Chemistry.  The characters are still making loads of errors.  Clara goes on about the duty of care she’s got…  There's no way that Courtney should be in that TARDIS.  It’s all well and good being made special but this is just dangerous.  Things’ve changed.  Although it hearkens back to the original TARDIS crew line-up of the wizard, two Coal Hill school teachers and a pupil…  There’s a line from Lundvik, played by this week’s Spooks guest star Hermione Norris, about what to do with aliens.  “Blow them up.”5

Him:  Uh huh.

Me:  And that reminded me of the Brigadier, which brings up-

Him:  Oh God, this point.

Me:  Well, I think it’s a point that needs to be made.

Him:  But not several times to me – you don’t need to rehearse it.

Me:  It needs to be said.  A lot of people online have been saying that the Doctor appears to have forgotten that he’s already known a retired soldier who became a maths teacher.  A couple of things’ve been said that... I don’t think are entirely accurate but I can see why people have said them.  With this hatred of soldiers that the Doctor’s got – and, again, we don’t know where that’s come from or why it’s being highlighted...  I’ve seen people saying that Steven Moffat has obviously forgotten about the Brigadier.  Well…  I’m going to have to say that, unfortunately, when Moffat’s got a character called ‘Courtney’ in these episodes, I don’t believe you can even consider he’s forgotten the Brigadier.  Moffat knows what he’s doing.  I thought, in many ways, that Clara became the new Sarah Jane Smith during Kill the Moon.  Especially with the sly nip of wine.  She’ll be typing and seeing robot dogs on walls next.

Him:  “Doo dee dee dee doo/K9”

Me:  A lot of the discussion that the Doctor and Clara were having in front of Lundvik made it very obvious that they were time travellers.  I wonder if this is going to affect stuff, especially seeing as Blinovitch got a mention.  How old would Orson be in 2049?  And Clara addressed humanity.  That’s going to cause questions.  They’re all still making mistakes.  This is going somewhere – well, I hope it is.  I don’t think it’s just Moffat opening story trapdoors-

Him:  Try saying it as two separate words.

Me:  “Trap.  Door?  ‘cause there’s something down there.”

Him:  Trap doors, not trapdoors.

Me:  “Berrrrrk!”

Him:  You don’t need these little spaces.

Me:  These things are open so that later on something can come through them and then they can be slammed closed.  As far as the Aristotelian-favoured structure for Greek Tragedy goes, it’s a tradition, or an old charter, or something.2  The course of this series has been much more tightly plotted.  There were moments in Kill the Moon that I found very impressive.  Even Murray Gold’s last ditch attempt at snatching defeat from the sea badger paws of victory didn’t spoil it.  Capaldi’s performance is brilliant.  I can see why it’s alienating some fans though.  Jenna Coleman was equally brilliant.   Ellis George was very, very good.  I wonder if what we’re seeing is also somebody highlighting the flaws in Nightmare in Silver…

Him:  Always the Moon!  Always the Moon.

Me:  Always the Moon.

Him:  Even though on neither journey has the Doctor taken Clara to a large rock that used to be part of the Earth.

Me:  Courtney on Tumblr?  All these things are going to cause massive problems, I’m sure of it.  Shall we make Macra noises then?

Him:  No!  Are you looking forward to next week’s one?

Me:  I wasn’t impressed with the shot of the Orient Express in space, but the rest of it looked very good.

Him:  You weren’t impressed with the shot of the Orient Express in space?

Me:  No.

Him:  Why not?

Me:  Because it looked really cheap.

Him:  Really?

Me:  Yup.

Him:  I don’t think there are many more ways you can do a train in space. Short of actually building a train, putting train tracks in space, and setting it to go along them.

Me:  Why not not do it in space, then?

Him:  Because that would be silly and not science-fiction.

Me:  I don't think Doctor Who's ever really been science fiction.  All the alchemy puts the kibosh on that.  It reminded me of-  Do you remember that phone conversation the Matt Smith Doctor had about a mummy on the Orient Express? 

Him:  No.

Me:  Alright then.

Him:  When was that?

Me:  End of The Big Bang.

Him:  Actually, I do remember that.  Do you think this is related to that in any way?

Me:  Yes.6  I also think it’s blood-related to a film called…  Not Death Line…  Horror Express!  Starring Christopher Lee and Peter "Cinema's Doctor Who" Cushing.  But not Vincent Price.  Which reminds me.  The Stephen Fry piece’ll be up in the next few days.

Him:  What’s that film you like about Elvis Presley and the-

Me:  Bubba Ho-Tep!  Oh, I hope so.  That’d be good.  Right.  Let’s just make Macra noises then.

Him:  Why Macra?

Me:  They were bacteria that everyone though were crabs, and tonight we saw bacteria that everyone thought were spiders.  Ish.  “Even a sponge has more life than I!”

Him:  You don’t do it as well as I do.

Me:  Well, you do it.

Him:  No, because you'll type it the same way.

Me:  “Even a sponge has more life than I!”

Him:  Hmmm…  It doesn’t matter how I say it because you’re going to type it exactly the same.  You can’t just say that the Macra aren’t giraffes.

Me:  The Macra aren’t giraffes.

Him:  Not giraffes.  That other thing. 

Us:  CRABS!

Me:  How did you get those two confused?  Wouldn’t it have been amazing if the Moon hatched to reveal a massive space giraffe?

Him:  I don’t think that’d be much different from what actually happened.

Me:  And what’s going to happen when that tide comes back in?

Him:  I’ve already said that, but I think you skimmed over it or ignored it or didn’t type it up.

Me:  Right, that’s us.

Him:  Why don’t you make Mummy noises?

Me:  “Clean your teeth!  Tidy your room!  Polish your shoes!  Shave your face! Hoover the lawn!”

Him:  You must’ve had a terrible childhood.

Me:  I wouldn’t like to go into it.  Long, long time ago.  On top of a hill.

Him:  I don’t think you had to hoover the lawn either.

Me:  I didn’t have to.  And on that bombshell!

Him:  Mrrrrrrrggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…

1.  Eh, Martha?

2.  Just a figure of speech.  It totally is.

3.  The opening theme’s definitely being tweaked per week.

4.  It’s not like I was watching The Dark Knight or something.

5.  Yup, we knew Tony Osoba has been on the Moon and Skaro before. 

 
6.  Not to mention Voyage of the Damned.  Ahem.