A Clean Fight

My Doctor Who binging continued last night as I watched all three parts of "Dragonfire". Before I was cramming 'em because I wanted to swallow down all the sixth Doctor episodes without having to savour the taste of them, now I'm binging 'cause I'm enjoying them. "Dragonfire" was the first I really felt invested in in a long time and I think the new companion, Ace, is the best companion since Romana. Ace has a gimmick--she's an explosives expert--but she becomes more than it, unlike previous mere vessels of gimmick companions, with a performance by Sophie Aldred that expresses depth in much the way McCoy's performance betters Colin Baker's.

I didn't actually hate Mel, the companion who preceded Ace. I neither hated her nor liked her--she's introduced in "Terror of the Vervoids" as a person in the Doctor's future--so we never see the Doctor meeting her. As such, she felt like a sort of generic companion--the point of her seemed mostly to demonstrate that "Terror of the Vervoids" takes place in some future date when he's gotten another companion as is his wont. So Mel always seemed like a walking blank to me.

Heh. Mel Blanc.

I think this is also why, in "Dragonfire," where Mel spends a lot of time alone with Ace, Mel actually kind of works. Ace's development seems to cause some kind of feedback loop. I guess, like Chad Everett says in Mulholland Drive, acting is largely reacting.



I might also be binging on Doctor Who so I can finally be caught up with everyone else. I'd like to be able to discuss the new show with other fans at Comic-Con and say things like, "Oh, yes, that was a bit like Jon Pertwee's first season, wasn't it? ha ha ha," and watch as the eyes of the person I'm speaking to glaze over momentarily as they decide whether or not to pretend they know what I'm talking about. I hope I can be enough of a smug prick to finally earn some respect in this town. Every good boy deserves fudge. Don't know what that's a reference to? Then you lose everything!



Twitter Sonnet #269: Combat Edition

The lone half green pill stands centre bottle.
Glowing robots blush a ghostly emerald.
Spinach dreams make turkeys eat their wattle.
The cyborg dog's the metal bone herald.
Missile launchers dream of angel food cake.
Health sweets bid explosion lovers farewell.
Ordinance echoes for fine ideal's sake.
Unloaded guns have no secrets to tell.
Metal bubbles question rust fiend faces.
Lab coats lose status when they're made of wool.
Tall duellists often overstep paces.
Plastique lard breaks Patriot Cookbook rule.
Nitro cheers a lonely outer space flat.
Lasers lack the grace of a baseball bat.