The Curse of Doctor Who pt 1

Being a Doctor Who fan just gets stranger. Randomly: other fans expect you to know as much about the show as they do, others expect you to know as little as they do, some of them don't think you can be as passionate about anything else (including human relationships) and most seem to live in a state of equilibrium.

They are 'content'. What a fucking terrible word. My therapist (when she bothers to say anything at all; and I hasten to add that she is, of course, imaginary) says that both happiness and depression are two extremes of the same continuum. In life's rich twatting tapestry (and that is in no way a reference to female circumcision - my therapist is getting to you too now!) one should experience great joy and great sorrow, probably in equal measure. The key to a successful life is to achieve 'contentment'. That in between state of the neutral.

My relationship with Doctor Who is reaching one of contentment. When I started this 'blog' I was at a cross roads. I had fallen out with the programme I love (note present tense - especially as it could go all over the place at any moment). When you love something or someone you have to accept that they could be part of your life forever - Jesus you might make a common mistake and marry the bitch / bastard. Love is great. Love is wonderful. Except when...

My problem a year or so ago was that I stopped 'liking' Doctor Who. And yet I still loved it and still do. I couldn't stand to be near it, it's gross gurning overacting face. Neither could I get it out of my mind. I rebelled. I toned down my interest in all things Who. Torchwood barely got a look in. I forgot the Sarah Jane Adventures were on and missed the pilot. I stopped buying DWM.

I haven't missed out. I did other things instead. I haven't missed an episode of Who yet but I've broadened my horizons. And now I find it so odd that people get so worked up about what on the whole is a rather, cheap, and frankly shit TV show. The vast majority of Who is rubbish and never to be repeated on mainstream TV. I love it. I'm content not to like most of it because the irony is so fitting.

So what's next? Well, this blog can't carry on like this. It has to either die or regenerate. Personally I'd like to murder the little fucker but myself and Piggy Fizz and who knows who else have things to say. We've broken out of Who fandom - there's a whole new world out there and reformed Who fans have to play their part... can you hear that drumming???

Over the next two months some changes will be taking place.