I have this weird rebellious streak in me, maybe you have it too. Whenever anything is popular, at least in the little realm of this Lubbock Photographer, I drop it, resist it, look for alternatives. Granted, everything in culture exists because someone, somewhere likes something. So, everything that’s out there is popular in somebody’s world.
All this rambling brings me to the subject of a little TV show called Doctor Who. A show put out by the BBC that is is listed in Guinness World Records as the longest-running science fiction television show in the world, and as the “most successful” science fiction series of all time, in terms of its overall broadcast ratings, DVD and book sales, iTunes traffic, and “illegal downloads.” Except for a little break, it’s been running almost continuously since 1963. Yes, 1963. It’s acheived television ratings rivaled only by American Idol in the last few years.
So, within the worldwide TV viewing audiences, it’s popular. And I’ve resisted ever watching an episode.
But I read an article over at Cracked.com in which the author told of how he too resisted the show. Then after prompting by his son, he gave in. Watched four episodes in a row, cried in every episode. That was saying something. So, as I often get to do whilst editing, I started watching on my handy Netflix account. Beginning with the episodes that began in 2005, I’m hooked. Oh, it’s bad. Like a drug. A movie in every episode.
So, if you haven’t ever watched an episode. Please do. Then let me know. I need someone with whom to discuss the many ways of the Tardis, why a sonic screwdriver takes forever to cut through a simple rope, and how Rose is attractive and unattractive at the same time. (And yes, I know there’s probably those of you out there who have been watching it since the dawn of time. Please don’t put me down simply because I just decided to join your little cult. Let’s just enjoy together.)