Short thoughts on Doctor Who, disc by disc (originally published June 2012)


Or as it’s known ‘round these parts: “The One I Mispronounced Until I Saw It”

So there’s a spirit of hatred and evil from the dark places of the inside that can borrow people’s bodies and make them do terrible things. It’s also a demon of self-loathing and hates mirrors. There are women who speak prophecy, and men who say nothing. Dream worlds can be opened to let you talk to metaphors and riddles. Authority figures are going mad, or catatonic with denial. Our fresh-faced hero arrives with his long coat and eccentric ways. Something in the forest is stirring.

Listen: Kinda is one murder away from Twin Peaks.

“Where we’re from, the birds sing a pretty song and there’s always music in the air.”

Not for nothing do David Lynch and Christopher Bailey share a meditation practice. That’s where the real stuff is, the gold of Ideaspace. Trouble is, most of us never get to the gold because we’re not practiced in going that deep. Even if we do sometimes luck out, we don’t know how to preserve the essence of that gold; when we reach the surface all we’re carrying is lead. Sure, we can still pound that lead into dull knives or senseless bullets, but you know it’s not the same. There’s no power left; there’s no mystery.

I don’t know. I’m certainly no Buddhist. I just see patterns. Black and White. White and Black.

“The old couple playing chess wore the same design.”

“They would.”


“Because we’re the same.”

“As what?”

“Each other.”


Tonight’s soundtrack was: Leadbelly, “Gwine Dig A Hole To Put The Devil In”