It's all about Who. It's all about now
Unless you've avoided all news and all internet activity (and even that old-fashioned thing of actually talking to people), the chances are you've heard who's going to be the new Doctor Who. Even if you don't give a monkey's, you'll have heard. Since the Beeb announced Matt Smith was heading off to do other things, various names have floated about for his replacement. And in the last week or so, speculation online and in the press has been just about impossible to avoid. Ditto the hoo-hah on whether the next actor would be a black guy or a woman or a black woman for that matter. Which then, of course, led to the usual accusations of political correctness and it's not real, you idiots. What does it matter who plays him?
As much as I enjoy the show, I really couldn't have cared less who's going to play him next. I enjoy the stories, the writing, the plots that don't give everything away all at once. I liked Matt Smith being young enough to come across as someone's cool uncle, while being best part of a thousand years old means the character knows a thing or two. What I did care about was, as River would say, 'spoilers'. But here's the thing: there's literally no way of avoiding now knowing Peter Capaldi will take over after the Christmas episode. I couldn't have stopped myself from knowing that. It didn't matter that I didn't watch the reveal last night (although I did hear a clip of it on the radio this afternoon. Whoever forced Zoe Ball to milk it that much needs a slap). It didn't matter that I stayed off Twitter and Facebook. It didn't matter that the only person I spoke to last night - my wife - was only marginally interested in the reveal and so didn't know any more than I did. And it sure as hell didn't matter that I, along with others, didn't want to know. Given the chance to see the regeneration happen, to be as much a part of the change from Smith to Capaldi as it will be for the characters, now that would be something special. Something more special than milking it for all it was worth, in any case.
But that's not how things work. It's all about now. We meet up with family or friends and we get our phones out to post on Facebook where we are, so everyone who isn't there can know straightaway instead of being told next time we see them. Meanwhile, the people we're actually with are doing the same thing. Anything slightly interesting happens and we reach for our mobiles to record it. We don't live it. We watch what we're recording, and then we share it online immediately. We don't live what we're doing or seeing. It has to be recorded or shared otherwise it doesn't count. Karaoke singers are wheeled out for multi-millionaires to laugh at and we make them famous for a couple of months. Then it's time to forget about them because it's not now. It's already old.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not advocating some mythical golden age pre-internet when all this were fields and they had proper music with tunes you could whistle and we were nicer, happier people because Facebook didn't exist. I don't believe that crap for a minute. I just think waiting for stuff, waiting for something that isn't right now, is no bad thing.
But Doctor Who isn't real, so what does it matter, right?
As much as I enjoy the show, I really couldn't have cared less who's going to play him next. I enjoy the stories, the writing, the plots that don't give everything away all at once. I liked Matt Smith being young enough to come across as someone's cool uncle, while being best part of a thousand years old means the character knows a thing or two. What I did care about was, as River would say, 'spoilers'. But here's the thing: there's literally no way of avoiding now knowing Peter Capaldi will take over after the Christmas episode. I couldn't have stopped myself from knowing that. It didn't matter that I didn't watch the reveal last night (although I did hear a clip of it on the radio this afternoon. Whoever forced Zoe Ball to milk it that much needs a slap). It didn't matter that I stayed off Twitter and Facebook. It didn't matter that the only person I spoke to last night - my wife - was only marginally interested in the reveal and so didn't know any more than I did. And it sure as hell didn't matter that I, along with others, didn't want to know. Given the chance to see the regeneration happen, to be as much a part of the change from Smith to Capaldi as it will be for the characters, now that would be something special. Something more special than milking it for all it was worth, in any case.
But that's not how things work. It's all about now. We meet up with family or friends and we get our phones out to post on Facebook where we are, so everyone who isn't there can know straightaway instead of being told next time we see them. Meanwhile, the people we're actually with are doing the same thing. Anything slightly interesting happens and we reach for our mobiles to record it. We don't live it. We watch what we're recording, and then we share it online immediately. We don't live what we're doing or seeing. It has to be recorded or shared otherwise it doesn't count. Karaoke singers are wheeled out for multi-millionaires to laugh at and we make them famous for a couple of months. Then it's time to forget about them because it's not now. It's already old.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not advocating some mythical golden age pre-internet when all this were fields and they had proper music with tunes you could whistle and we were nicer, happier people because Facebook didn't exist. I don't believe that crap for a minute. I just think waiting for stuff, waiting for something that isn't right now, is no bad thing.
But Doctor Who isn't real, so what does it matter, right?
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