Of Bamboo and Daleks

I have very recently purchased what has been proclaimed by the little tag that came with it to be “Lucky Bamboo”. I am aware that lucky bamboo is often gifted and rarely purchased for oneself, but I thought this particular purchase could perhaps count as a gift, to myself, as I bought it to spruce up the office a bit. I like this office, I truly do, but simply put, it needed the added personality that only a small potted plant can offer.

I think it fits in nicely.

I would add a photo of the aforementioned lucky bamboo in the also-aforementioned office, but I still have not, as of the writing of this post, figured out exactly why my computer is ignoring my camera. It’s a new camera, it’s never been in this house before. Never been anywhere near this computer before, so I simply cannot work out what this poor camera could have possibly done to ruffle the feathers of this computer so badly (note: computer does not actually have feathers). Conflict of interest? Perhaps my computer is not yet over the death of my old camera and is simply not ready to move on yet? I really don’t know, but once I figure it all out, there will be photos coming.

Also, I don’t feel any luckier.

Colin Hanks loved Tower Records. Many of us loved Tower Records, it holds a special place in our hearts (those of us who have actually been inside a Tower Records, that is), but Colin Hanks is actually filming a documentary about Tower Records. The catch is, he needs your help to do so.

It really sounds like a lovely project and I know I’ll be donating at some point soon.

The wonderful thing about blogging on WordPress is stumbling onto strange new blogs when you log in. They have these links, called “Freshly Pressed”, and they call to you in many exotic tones and unique pitches. Each one is different, not all of them may interest you. Though, every once in a while, I come across one that makes me smile and, maybe more importantly, makes me think.

This was one such post and it’s about the English language, the flawed beauty of which is often overlooked.

I was a child, well over two decades ago, when I saw my first episode of Doctor Who. I would stay up late on the weekends, whether or not my parents were aware of it, I do not know. Doctor Who played on PBS in those days. I like to think it still does, in some places. I would tune into our local PBS affiliate and watch whatever anime programming they were playing that night (it seemed to be on a rotating cycle), and every time I would tune in just a few minutes early, to make sure I didn’t miss anything. Each time I did this, I would see the closing credits to Doctor Who.

Now, I hadn’t any idea what Doctor Who was or why I would want to watch it. All I knew was that the end credits seemed very weird and science fictiony and cool. So, one Saturday evening, I decided to tune in a full hour early, just to see what all the hubbub was about.

It was then that I first saw an older gentleman in a brown hat and an impossibly long scarf, eating jelly babies (whatever those were) from a small bag. Oh, and he also had a time machine. I was instantly hooked and have watched, loyally, ever since. They say that everyone has their own personal Doctor. Whether that Doctor is the first one they met on their very first journey into the show, or a later regeneration that simply spoke to them on a deeper level, everyone has their Doctor. Tom Baker, number four, was mine. I have gained quite a lot of affection for each of the following versions of the Doctor since Tom Baker, especially David Tennant (the Tenth Doctor), but Baker was, is, and always will be my Doctor.

Doctor Who was dead for a very long time, until in 2005, some wonderful people decided the world wasn’t the same without The Doctor around, and thus the Ninth regeneration of The Doctor was born. This new series was sleeker than the past versions. The Doctor, played this time by Christpher Eccleston, wore a leather jacket, for example. The Ninth Doctor did a wonderful job of picking up where his last incarnation left off. We then met the Tenth Doctor, a favorite of many. We’re now on the Eleventh Doctor, portrayed brilliantly by Matt Smith, and there seems to be no end in sight for our time traveling friend. Which is the best news I can possibly think of.

It’s so strange to think that there are now an entirely new generation of people discovering Doctor Who, much the same way I did as a child. They stumble across an episode of it on the Sci-Fi Channel or BBC America one evening and say “Hello, what is this?” and they are hooked as I was hooked. I’ve seen many of my friends, who are roughly my own age, just now discovering the wonders of Doctor Who. I have to wonder if it holds the same meaning to them, as they’re finding the Doctor as adults and not as children. The Doctor is the perfect hero for a child, you see. He favors intelligence over brute strength. He is always calm and collected, except for when he is not. He defends his companions to the death and is yet unafraid to put his very life on the line for someone he very simply does not know. The Doctor knows everything, but is still surprised and delighted by everything he sees and comes into contact with.

It does my heart good to see so many people coming around to Doctor Who and giving it a go. Even those who see it and say “it’s not my cup of tea”, well at least they tried it.

Steven Moffat, God of all Doctor Whovian Exploits as of this current moment, has announced that the Daleks will be taking a “rest” for a while.

I’m a huge fan of the Daleks, have been for many years now. In fact, I’d have to say that the Daleks are my second favorite Doctor Who threat, behind The Master. But I do agree that the Daleks have stayed their welcome a bit. The writers have exhausted just about every possible way the Daleks could or would pose a threat to the universe. For now. Allow them a rest, for now.

I’m very pleased that they’re only taking a “rest” and not being exterminated (sorry) for good, though.

Currently wondering where I’ll be getting the eightysome dollars it will take to buy an entire box of these.

This blog is much longer than I intended it to be and I am very tired. I’ll be sleeping now. Thank you for reading this, whatever it is.

I still don’t feel any luckier.

Published by Rob Kaas

Biographical information? I was born 37 years ago. I've lived a little here and there since then. I do not look forward to death. Biographical enough for you?

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