After four hours sleep I
was laying in bed debating getting up or laying awake trying to
sleep. In the end I decided I would only fall asleep later anyway so
I might as well be up and about when awake anyway.
With uncertainty as to
whether or not to proceed with the day's planned walk (because of
bad weather having been forecast) I looked out of the window to
find a dry (but overcast and still dark) morning. I checked a
few forecasts, and remained gripped by indecision. So I had my
brekkie and took my tablets (which worked wonders for my state of
mind!)
A minor storm was raging
on social media. It's no secret that I record a *lot* of TV
shows onto my SkyPlus box and watch them later. This has the
advantage that I can watch the shows at a time that suits me and that
I can fast-forward through the adverts. However it has the
disadvantage that by the time I watch any given programme, at least
half a dozen people have already told me what happened.
This was one of the
reasons I wanted to watch last night's "Doctor Who"
as broadcast. (Being on the BBC it has no adverts anyway).
What happened was.... no; I won't give anything away that you haven't
already seen on trailers. I thought it was good.But (as always)
I would seem to be in the minority.
There is something about
"Doctor Who". I must admit that some episodes are
good, some not so. But it's rather different to how it used to be.
When it had its first run it was a British TV show. And British TV at
the time had three channels. There was BBC1 which was funded from TV
licence payments so they could make whatever they wanted. There was
BBC2 which no one watched anyway. And there was ITV; the only
competitor to the BBC. Consequently (applying the theory of market
forces) the BBC had little competiton and it got away with making
some rather dire TV.
With very little sci-fi
on the telly (no British sci-fi of note at all), over the
years "Doctor Who" picked up pretty much all the sci-fi
enthusiasts who became something of a "cult"
audience. And like any kind of sci-fi fandom, "Whovians"
created a whole mythos and expectation of the show which bore little,
if any, relation to what's actually seen on the telly.
I can't beleive the nasty
negative comments I was reading about last night's episode (which
I quite liked). Here's a challenge to anyone who feels that they
used to like "Doctor Who" and now thinks it's
rubbish. Don't rely on your memory; actually watch an episode of the
old stuff. Watch Jon Pertwee mincing about like a pantomime dame.
Watch Tom Baker fooling and playing the idiot to cover up the lack of
any kind of plausible plot. Watch Sylvester McCoy struggling with a
script purposely written to get people to stop watching the
programme.
And if you still don't
like the current offerings, then stop watching the show.
I then checked my emails;
one was from "Coursera". Next week they are starting
a new course entitled "Origins
- Formation of the Universe, Solar System, Earth and Life".
Presented by the academic staff from the University of Copenhagen it
seems an interesting topic. It might give me something to do when
otherwise bored. It's free; so I've signed up for it.
Eventually people were
waking up and appearing in cyberspace. With others to make
suggestions we soon formed a consesnsus view to postpone today's
planned ouiting to Meopham; it would be a long way to go to get wet
and muddy. Instead we thought we might go somewhere (relatively)
locally; I suggested a (sort-of) urban stroll around New
Romney after the worst of the forecast rain had been and gone.
I spent a little while
fiddling about with FTP uploaders, and then when the weather forecast
told us that the worst of the rain had passed five of us (and the
non-convalescent dog) left the convalescent dog in his bed and
drove down to New Romney where we walked round tarmac-ed ares for two
miles, found half a dozen geocaches (one the like of which I'd not
seen in over four thousand previous finds) and got soaked in the
worst of the rain that hadn't actually passed at all.
That weather forecast had
lied(!)
It was good to get out
for a walk, it was good to get home and to get dry. We were home far
earlier than is usual for a Sunday, so we spent some time catching up
with episodes of "Downton Abbey" which had been
recorded onto the SkyPlus box. Half way through a serious telly
session we had a visitor. "My Boy TM"
had come to collect his waterproofs; he's planning to go fishing on
the beach in a monsoon tomorrow.
We had a rather good
casserole for dinner; I was hoping it would settle my innards; they
haven't been right since last night's does of vindaloo cashew nuts.
Unfortunately the casserole didn't settle anything, and with "er
indoors TM" off bowling I spent the
evening farting like a fruitbat.
You can tell a bad fart;
not even your own dog will sit with you... but my grand-pug will sit
with my grand-son. I do like the photo I was sent today from "Daddies
Little Angel TM"'s bathroom floor.
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