AKA We're Scared of Admitting We're A Superhero Television Show

             

            I love comic books. I’ve made that very clear in my many, many posts where I’ve stated something along the lines of “I love comic books.” I think the recent glut of comic book movies to be a good thing (although it’s not as much of a glut as people seem to think… more on that in another post. Maybe. In another day.) But you know the one thing that really got me excited about comic book movies and T.V. Shows?

            The Avengers.

            I mean the movie the Avengers. The bringing together of the biggest superhero names that starred in their recent adventures, having them all meeting up and fight in a movie, then go off on their own ways. Man, for all of Phase One, of what has become to be known as the Marvel Cinematic Universe, I loved this idea. I even talked about it in my review of Ant-Man, how Phase One embraced this, then managed to throw in little references, like Iron Man holding up a prototype Captain America Shield, Thor’s Hammer showing up to distract Agent Coulson, Tony Stark taking the time to recruit Thunderbolt Ross into the Avengers...

            Then Phase 2 got scared. James Gunn talking about how Guardians of the Galaxy wasn’t going to work with the Avengers, going so far as to scrap planned Iron Man and Hulk Cameos. Someone saying “When are we going to talk about the Avengers” and getting waved off.  (One rumor was that they were afraid audiences would get confused as to why Thor wasn’t helping Iron Man out of his latest jam, as if they should all be hanging out in a clubhouse all the time.)

           

            Which brings me to the extension of the MCU, the Defenders.

            For those of you who don’t know, Netflix has decided to get into the Superhero game, taking on four of the lesser known (but still high ish profile) superheroes with the intent of bringing them into the larger Marvel Cinematic Universe. Daredevil, Jessica Jones, Luke Cage, and Iron Fist. The idea being that these “street level” superheroes would eventually team up, taking on street crime in an Avenger-Like Fashion in a team called the Defenders. In the comics, the team was never really an official “team” like the X-Men or Justice League, but rather a random assembling of heroes who sprang into action.

            Netflix has already debuted Daredevil to some wonderful reviews, and I just finished up watching Jessica Jones, which also had some wonderful reviews. I have to agree, as a realistic television show that deals with superhumans, it’s probably one of the best television shows I’ve ever seen in my entire life.

            Unfortunately for a show set in the MCU, it’s terrible. It’s scary, even, as it’s one of the first signs that Marvel is starting to slowly abandoned their shared universe, the very thing that made them unique.

            The show is about a private investigator, named Jessica Jones (Krysten Ritter), with superpowers. The story as to why she received them isn’t really important, but one night while using her powers to save people, she’s discovered by a villain named Kilgrave (Played by former 10^th Doctor David Tennant) who has the ability to control people into doing his will. He uses her powers as part of his criminal empire, and controls her into a relationship with him. What follows (and what the show is about) that is a strong allegory about survival, rape, and PTSD. Like I said, a heavy show, but a fantastic one. I highly recommend it for anyone that would like to watch a standalone television show that loosely follows the comic.

            The problem is the part where I say, “Loosely.”

The powers that be established JJ was going to take part in this larger MCU. That’s a lot how it was sold.  You know what they had the option to do? Not have her take part in this larger world. They could have easily made a stand alone TV show... DC comics is famous for separating out its Television and movie properties.  And had they kept her separate from the MCU, it would have been a lot stronger show. Marvel could have easily said. "Hey, we have our strong rape allegory… let’s go for it and blow some minds!” but instead, they sold this as part of the Street Level Defenders show.

I get Tony Stark, Captain America, or the Hulk not showing up - that was the POINT of Daredevil, the world that this show was supposed to share. There are bad guys that can rip apart mountains with their bare hands, and there are super powered heroes who are going to stop them, but there's always going to be that guy who steals a purse, or tries to rob a bank. Daredevil was a show that said, "hey.. I have superpowers... I'll help the little guy." This could have been an entry to further that idea, rather than Jessica Jones vs. A well known Daredevil villain, it could have shown how a severely damaged woman, one getting over her own demons having been raped, gained her footing to help the people that needed it. (it should be noted that in the comics, The Purple Man aka Kilgrave an't influence Jessica or Daredevil. In fact, it's his hatred for Daredevil that got him so riled up as to send Jessica off into the world to go kill him. Unfortunately he doesn't phrase things properly, and, let's just say Jessica can't defeat all of the Avengers at once.) Instead we got not just a cynical world, but one that openly rejected the idea that it was part of this larger world, or one that was even a superhero show.

              The show's desire to neglect the fact that it is a superhero show, much less one in a shared universe, is the most constantly frustrating thing about it. "Hey, I know a guy who can help wink wink"  says a nurse who appears in Daredevil says in one scene. But it's quickly waved away when they don't want to admit that the show dare stand alongside Daredevil.  Yes, this is supposed to be a show about Jessica Jones, one that needs to establish her. But they didn't allow a chance to draw a connection between the characters, to establish that Daredevil has powers (a major plot point in Luke and Jessica meeting) or that he was the vigilante that everyone was concerned about until the television show, Jessica Jones. It provides an odd disconnect that is jarring, having watched both shows.

            The problem is that this show actively hates the fact that it's a superhero show, and that's a problem.

             The show was a slew of missed opportunities to connect it to a larger world. Hey, how about Jessica getting a call about a vigilante roaming the streets. Hey, how about the words "Wilson Fisk" … you know that huge crime lord who's name was being whispered everywhere and then was suddenly exposed… being brought up. Daredevil didn't have to pop up every episode, but Jessica and Luke were so excited to find someone else like them that maybe - just maybe - the guy wearing the red suit running around the same 10 block radius deserved a mention. He didn't even have to show up in any episode, but the end of Daredevil made it appear as if he was watching over Hell's Kitchen… so why don't the people trying to stop the murdering rapist think to mention him? Even if it's to say, "We can't get him close to Kilgrave because we don't know what will happen?" What about the fact that several of the characters actually work in a law firm? Or that one of them was going to look for a defense attorney to protect her from the super-powered attack she suffered? "Hey look up Nelson and Murdock, they specialize in cases like this" one human being could have said. But they didn't. It was as if they went out of their way to keep from mention the "D" word. Even the Avengers get reduced to nicknames that display sheer disgust at the idea that they may actually exist. The problem is that the show's need to avoid mentioning or establishing that this character is out there hurts it.

To put it in perspective: Did you ever watch Buffy: The Vampire Slayer and it’s spinoff Angel? These were separate shows. They didn't spend a lot of time saying "Wow, Buffy would…" or "Wow, where's Angel." They death with heavy issues… growing up, rape, PTSD. But they acknowledged that they shared a world. There's an episode where Buffy dies in season 5. (Well… "dies" as much as anyone does on that show not named "Tara") during that time Angel was in another dimension. When he got back, he's talking with his buddies, opens a door, and Willow is sitting there. Fade to black before she says anything. Watch Buffy? Great you know why she was there. Don't watch Buffy? You don't know, but it took up literally one minute of the episode. Affects nothing for the casual viewer, adds something cool to remind everyone that it's a shared world. Particularly for a show that was concerned with justice, maybe two lawyers, one of whom with superpowers, could have walked behind someone in a scene. Or a reference to the law firm.

The reason Jessica Jones scares me as a continuation of Marvel's grand vision is it's blatant rejection of superheroes. What happened to her was tragic but the show took someone who was damaged then made her more damaged. The comic took someone who was happy, someone who was a hero. She wore that costume, fought crime, and could fly… and showed what that damage could do. She was raped by Kilgrave for MONTHS in the comic. Her will as a person was broken and her will as a hero was broken. A large section of her recovery was a realization that she didn’t know what was Kilgrave’s will and what was her will, and this scared it. It was a deep look into not just PTSD, but the deconstruction of a superhero. The show skips over that. She's already too cool for tights the second the show gives her superpowers. They openly mock the idea of Jessica becoming a superhero. Not just a superhero, that specific superhero that she was in the comic. The smiling, pink-haired woman who could fly. And this happened before Kilgrave set foot on the screen. The two friends are sitting around, drinking wine, and discussing superheroics. All this as the costume she would wear lays on the couch, being mocked, destroyed, disrespected.  It's not a problem that she doesn't want to fight crime in a suit. It is a problem that her character is rejected for the sake of creating one that is disgusted by the idea of being a hero. Part of the point of Jessica Jones is the shocking change in character after spending 8 months being raped. Not just 8 months of being raped, but by having her will broken down. It's supposed to send a more powerful message. But here's a character that was already pretty much the way she is when we first see her, even in flashback. It takes away from the core of the character. 

The fact is, deep allegories or not, this takes place in a world of superheroes. At the time that she was rejecting all of these things in the show, their was already a very public battle that involved costumed heroes – she could have joined them. But she didn’t have to. They didn’t have to establish a superheroic past, the show works without it. But the inclusion of this into the show is almost hateful to the source material. It’s saying “we’re better than this.” It’s mocking the very reason these shows exist. And as a fan of comic books, it kind of scares me. I’m not saying that superhero shows/comics can’t be dark. Quite the opposite. I’m saying that the removal of what made the character unique in the first place, you’re weakening the case for the character. They didn’t take a happy character and break her, then tell a story of redemption. They told a story where a deep, dark character was hurt, and then… what? Got darker? You remove the superhero aspect of the show. And this gets to a larger problem at the heart of every time a superhero tries to cover anything important: you can either have the colorful costumes, or you can have the serious discussion. If you have the serious discussion, it seems you have to mock the idea of being a superhero.

Maybe we’ll see more. There are still three more series to see before we get to the next show: Luke Cage (we probably won’t hear the phrase “Powerman” unless it’s ironic, I’m guessing). There’s Iron Fist, which is held up as it deals with more fantastical elements. And another season of Daredevil, which had it’s own issues of being afraid to acknowledge it’s legacy as a Superhero Show. and is currently filming with the addition of two other characters deeply entrenched in comic book lore.  But we’ll have to see. I certainly hope they aren't treated with the same disgust as Jessica Jones treats her comic book connections.

            Like I said, I don’t want to rain on how great Jessica Jones is as a standalone television series. It is fantastic. You should watch it. You should stop reading this and watch it now in fact. But it’s embarrassed to be one based on a superhero comic, and that oozes from the screen. And that part… that’s a little scary for the future of the MCU.

Bad Shakespeare Takes Ireland: Dublin Lullabye

I originally wrote this post about five days ago, in Dublin, as I sat on my bed (carefully of course… more on that in a minute.) I reflected on my time as the month had passed. I reflected on all the adventures I had. I reflected on the people I spent my time with. 

It was actually quite terrible.

I needed time to process just what Ireland meant to me. Like anything, it’s a wonderful experience, but it was not yet over. The classes were over and I was a scant six hours away from boarding an airplane, but for the time being, the event wasn’t over. I didn’t have time to come back to the United States and think about what my time over there meant. 

Let’s back up for a few minutes. My final day in Dublin wasn’t spent in the Jameson factory, or even touring the city. My final day in Dublin was spent doing something I’d wish I’d done in London. I got a tattoo. As long time readers know (and short time readers are just now finding out) I have quite a few tattoos. I have a Shakespeare Quote, a Neil Gaiman quote (recently, with his signature underneath it!), a Doctor Who design, a Supernatural Design, and a Superman “S” because all proper nerds need a Superman or Batman symbol at some point in their lives. I chose Alex Ross’s version, which is black and symbolizes Superman’s transformation as time passes him by.

But that’s all a lot of information about nothing. But it’s something I like to talk about, because I like tattoos. They’re a permanent mark. A lot of people don’t understand them, and for a time, I didn’t, either. I thought they looked cool. But I didn’t understand the meaning behind them. Each one is a personal story, and you want a reminder of it. For instance, my Neil Gaiman Quote is from my favorite book, Good Omens. I got it for my birthday, and I remember my buddy Jon and I drove all over the DC Area looking for a place that would do it. We finally found it, and it was going to be too expensive, but he paid for half of it. Later, when I got a chance to meet Neil Gaiman, my friend Kim made sure i not only met him, but that i had a pen and he signed underneath in the perfect spot. I don’t think he was done with the “n” in his name before she was on the phone with an Uber to take us to the tattoo place I’d pre-selected. It wasn’t a great time, it was an epic time.

Stories. That’s what I’m about. So, yes… I had to get a tattoo to remember the time I spent in Ireland. One of the most epic stories I’ve ever experienced.

I went to Snakebite Tattooing in Dublin (which you should go to) and I got a symbol that is a modified version of last year’s Doolin Folk Festival symbol. I thought it important to get a mark in the country that left a mark on me. I didn’t want a celtic cross or a harp or something traditional. The awesome people there actually redesigned it, and it looks beautifully awesome. I’d post pictures of it today, but it’s still healing so it looks… not so great… and the only other pictures I have are when it was first done, and those just look angry. I also want to point out that the only other person brave enough to come with me was Tim, my intrepid roommate for my time in Ireland, who got his tattoo before mine. 

But, I went and did something I’d always wanted to do. It was important to me. So I did it. Snakebite Tattoo was an awesome place, even if it’s off the “tourist area” and you have to ring a bell to go up. The word for it when you walk us is “sketchy” but once you’re inside it’s actually a very beautiful studio. Everyone’s super friendly, and they are quick. They also stayed open an extra hour to finish my tattoo, knowing I was flying back to America in a day. So they’re pretty awesome people. Oh, and they take only cash, which is interesting, but doable. 

My next adventure in leaving Dublin came when the luggage I got a great deal on decided to stop working as I walked out ot the plane. First, the bottom completely failed. After several failed attempts to purchase a new bag (it’s the 21st Century, folks. TAKE CARDS) I eventually had to say goodbye to several books and jam back my bag so tightly that the top also collapsed when I got off the plane. But all is well. It’s actually quite comical in the long run. 

But then I got back to the United States.

A buddy of mine spent some time for work in Boston. He set me aside one day and said, “Michael, I never felt out of place in Virginia, but I felt at home in Boston.” (Note: I could have easily stolen that line. I still might one day, but for now I’m attributing it to a brilliance other than mine.) I want to echo that. I’ve never felt out of place in America. It’s my home. I’ve lived all across the country. I love this great Nation of ours, just so everyone is clear. But… I felt at home in Ireland.

Firstly, there was a our trip to the Writer’s Museum in Dublin, which talked about how Irish writers were mostly troublemakers. From Oscar Wilde to James Joyce to Flan O’Brien, they’re mostly people who either fled to England to gain a wider audience, or people who did what they wanted and let the chips fall where they may. James Joyce played with things so much there is an entire day dedicated to him. Oscar Wilde was sent to America for the sole reason that people would get a joke in a musical, and people ended up loving him so much the musical ran into… let’s just say problems. 

Then… as much as I loved Dublin and wish I had more time to explore, I have to say I loved the times we spent in the Aran Islands and Doolin, small places with vast fields or near the Ocean, places that inspired my imagination. I told my professor this, and I’m going to re-write it here: The words fell out of me. It’s unlike anything I experienced before. I was writing and creating in ways I didn’t know possible. The class was great, don’t get me wrong, but it was impossible to not be inspired as we passed by old castles, as we got lectures about Celtic Rituals, or even as we passed by the Doolin Donkey every single day. 

(Yeah… I’m going to do my last Bad Shakespeare in Ireland Post without mentioning the Doolin Donkey. That’ll happen.) 

The thing is, I’m still processing how this country affected me. I can tell you that the person who boarded that plane a month ago (I almost wrote “a few months ago”. It felt like a few months ago) is not the person who is writing this post, right now. I made strong connections, not just with the land but with the people who went with me. All great people whom I’m glad to have known. I was able to sit and think without the distractions that accompany my routine here in America. 

And ultimately, maybe part of it was just shaking up my routine again. I certainly was inspired by my trip to London, this was just a little bit different in that it allowed me more of a connection to who I am. It allowed me more reflection time. It allowed me more time to slow down, and think about the words I’m typing. 

As long time readers know (and short time readers again, are finding out) I’m a big fan of Star Trek, specifically Deep Space Nine, which was the greatest Star Trek Series ever and anyone who argues doesn’t understand Star Trek. (Another little joke for my nerds out there.) Anyway, there’s an episode where Captain Sisko is talking to his son, Jake, who wants to be a writer. He tells him “When you’re writing, stick your head up every once in a while. That’s life.” To me, that’s what Ireland was. It was this perfect combination of “writing” while still putting my head up and looking around. It was about making a connection to a place that has a long history, not just as in “what really happened” but a history of magic. A history of making things work. 

Ok, so, I’ve made references to Superman, Star Trek, Doctor Who, and the Doolin Donkey, this post has gone on way too long. For those of you who are still here, I appreciate it. Regardless, I should probably consider wrapping this up. 

The bottom line is: I enjoyed myself. It was what I’ve wanted, which was an epic quest and learning experience, all wrapped up into one. It was a chance to not only find myself, but lose myself at the same time, which we all need to do in order to move forward in our lives. Ireland affected me a lot. I loved every minute of it. Now I’m back, and the real challenge is not to re-create that feeling, but to use that feeling to inform the rest of my life, and to make me a better person. To make me a better writer. 

I’m looking forward to creating my own epic quest.

Bad Shakespeare Takes England: Assassins!

A horse walks into a bar. The bartender says, “Why the long face?” The Horse replies, “Alcoholism is killing my family.”

Humor isn’t easy. It’s incredibly nuanced and relies on a contract between the person telling the joke, and the person hearing the joke. In telling the joke above, I have to assume several things: 

1. You people reading this know what a horse, bar, bartender, and alcoholism are. 
2. You know that horses have long faces. 
3. You’ve heard the original joke which ends with the “Why the long face?” punchline and you’re not prepared for another punchline on top of that.

Once you’ve heard all of those, then you can laugh at the joke I stole from one of many places. 

I tell this long story so you kind of had this idea in mind when our intrepid group of London Studiers went to go see Stephen Sondheim’s Assassins at the Menier Chocolate Factory.

Quick upfront, yes, it’s a converted Chocolate Factory that isn’t really close to any bus or tube line, so we had quite a walk. And no, it’s not a Chocolate factory anymore, so no one was sung off by Oompa Loompas after suffering an ironic fate. Although I don’t remember seeing Augustus after that part of the trip, and I was asked not to talk about him.

Anyway, I bring up the whole part about humor because this was a very unique experience: We’re watching a very “American” play set very much in America. It’s about the people who have either assassinated or attempted to assassinate the American Presidents. It starts with John Wilkes Booth and goes all the way up through Lee Harvey Oswald, interplaying the whole event through the guise of being a carnival game. It’s also a musical, so they are gleefully singing about killing various Presidents, and its an interesting look at the “other side” of the story - that is no one is arguing that these weren’t bad people, but they also weren’t cartoon characters who decided to kill someone simply to sell more action figures - They had motives. What were they?

I could do the billionth review of the play itself, but why bother? The cast was awesome, the songs were catchy, and the entire production was just wonderful. The Chocolate factory is set up so rather than a traditional “stage” and an audience gazing up, we were all seated around the stage. This added to the carnival like atmosphere of the production. I was fortunate enough to be sitting in the very front row, so I got right close up to the action, including the several times they aimed guns right at the audience.

Oh, yeah... the guns. So, because guns are controlled more heavily in London, theatres that are putting on plays need special permission to actually have them on stage. So it’s a little more shocking for a London Audience to see them. Also, since their is less chance they’re real, they get pointed in the audience a LOT more. Not even a little bit more, but like, I’ve never had a gun pointed in my face quite as much as this. Not that I’ve had many guns pointed in my face. But it’s one of those interesting cultural things I was telling you about earlier. 

It’s also very interesting to view this in England, just as I mentioned with the Scotsboro Boys. There were clearly jokes that the English didn’t get, particularly one about Massachusetts. We were able to meet some of the people after the show (including Catherine Tate aka Donna Noble from Doctor Who and it was AMAZING!) and one of them Michael McShane (who’s an awesome dude), commented that “yep, I knew there were people from America as soon as that joke landed!” Or something like that. At this point it’s May, and I should have taken better notes about my time in England. But there are a lot of jokes that are based towards Americans, and there were a lot of dead spots (no pun intended) that I actually thought were pretty funny. (Ok... maybe a little pun intended.)

This was one of the final productions we saw while we were in London. I’m kind of glad that it was a bit later, this was a very “American” play. I don’t say that to categorize it in some way, just that its interesting. It’s a play that relies very heavily in American Politics. It’s sort of like if I went to see the original House of Cards and wondered why they donned all those fancy wigs before throwing reporters in front of trains. (I’d say “spoilers” but the show has been on Netflix for a billion years. If you haven’t watched it already, well, then... what are you waiting for?) I kind of wish we had spent a lot more time discussing the fact that this was a weirder experience, watching something so deeply rooted in a country I know, but the person sitting next to me may not know. (metaphorically speaking. I was right in the middle of several classmates. I don’t know how much they knew about American History, but it was presumably more than the person sitting further away that didn’t study it at all.) 

Oh, and I’ll let you know if we ever find Augustus. 

Fans, Unite!

I’m a big fan of science fiction. It used to get a bad rap. A lot of people that are zooming around in their Iron Man costumes or walking around with their Star Wars Shirts don’t understand how difficult it was, for some of us, to admit that we enjoyed watching grown men and women talking about “reversing the polarity” or “beaming me up.”

Which is why for the longest time, I never really told anyone I was a fan of Doctor Who. For those of you who don’t know, Doctor Who is a television show that’s been on for 50 years, and has a lot of history, so I would highly recommend Googling “Doctor Who” before you read the rest of this, because it’s way too much for me to get into right now.

But no, when I was growing up, you could get away with having watched Star Wars… I mean, that was a bunch of epic space battles and wizards and light sabers. Plus, we heard there was a rumor that right now, as were studying for that math test, George Lucas was going to write three more movies and there was going to be an all digital character named “Jar-Jar Binks” and he was going to blow you away with his awesomeness. (We were young. We were naive.)

You maybe mentioned your love of Star Trek, but only briefly. Despite the fact that a new guy had taken over and would someday become Patrick Stewart, America’s favorite British Uncle, for the time being you didn’t proudly wear that Star Trek shirt too many places… The movies were cool, of course, but it was still an iffy level of nerdom.

Remember, Computers weren’t widely used when I was growing up, so the geek had not yet inherited the Earth. Most of the time you could get by with being at the mercy of the AV Club.

But way below those two things and the billions of science fiction books, video games, and roleplaying tabletop games: there was Doctor Who. You don’t get much more hardcore science fiction than an alien that flies around in a space ship and can go anywhere, anytime, ever, and was popular in England. That was a level of nerd that no one wanted to really cross, at least when I was growing up.

But I remember the first time I saw Doctor Who. It was Tom Baker. I didn’t quite know what was going on, there was a man in a funny scarf flying around in some of the stupidest special effects I’ve ever seen, on PBS of all channels, one lonely Sunday afternoon. But then he was being threatened. He didn’t pull out a gun or a weapon. He fought them off with a smile (a rather crazy smile) and an offer of some jelly babies. It was weird. But I liked it.

I caught up where I could, but didn’t really focus on one era for too long. I enjoyed what I could see of them. I watched the so-so 1996 movie, but I really started re-watching when Christopher Eccelson helped to bring it back. Then there was the era of the new Doctors… David Tennant and Matt Smith. I really enjoyed David Tennant, I’d go on to say that he replaced Tom Baker in my heart as “my Doctor” (and any good Doctor Who fan has “their Doctor”.) Up until, of course, the latest. The 12th Doctor. (sorta. Look, Google it, because the numbering’s all complicated now.)

Peter Capaldi was introduced to the world as the new Doctor, one of the oldest to take the part since it’s regeneration in 2005. (see what I did there.) He came with a little bit of controversy (because who can let things go without controversy) because he was older and he was replacing a very popular Doctor. Thing is, he’s already my favorite. I don’t know that he’ll replace Tennant or Baker as “My Doctor” but he’s already worked his way into my heart as my favorite Doctor. Not because of any action he’s done as the Doctor, mind you. But because of Peter Capaldi.

Oh, I understand that as of this writing, we’re only three episodes into his tenure as the Doctor. He hasn’t had a lot of time, really, as the Doctor, beyond telling a dinosaur that she was pretty, possibly pushing a robot to his death, and fighting Robin Hood with a spoon. (Actually I’d say he’s been pretty busy.)

No, I’m a fan of Peter Capaldi… because he’s a fan. He’s always been a fan of Doctor Who. In fact, when he was announced, people started looking at archives, and found that he’d not only written to Doctor Who fansites, but he’d drawn pictures, he’d written fan fiction… he was a fan from day one. He loved the Doctor. And now… with only 12 other (or 13, depending on how you count the Valeyard from “Trial of a Timelord”) people have officially played the Doctor over it’s 50 year history. And he gets to be the 13th. (or 14th. Again… Valeyard. And I’m including the War Doctor. John Hurt counts.)

Think about the odds with Peter Capaldi being cast as the Doctor. Not only has he already been on Doctor Who (squaring off against the 10th Doctor and Donna Noble for control of the TARDIS) but he’s about 30 years older than Matt Smith when he took the part. Matt Smith was wildly popular, and every pretty much assumed we’d be getting another younger, edgier Doctor. And instead we get this guy. An old guy best known for being on a show about political intrigue where he got to yell a lot of obscenities. Like, a lot. I can remember some armchair commenters warning people against Googling some of his earlier performances.

But how can you not appreciate the fact that this guy, this fan, is now living his dream. He’s getting to play the big part. He gets his own wardrobe, he gets to wave the sonic screwdriver and command attention. He gets to play a role that he admired for years… and now he gets to do it.

There’s something kind of important in there about following your dreams, and to keep reaching, I guess. I mean, at the end of the day, I kid of just enjoy the funny quotes and the fact that at any moment, anything can happen. (David Tennant once smashed into the space Titanic. Also there’s a lizard woman and a human woman who are married and have a detective agency in Victorian England. Anything.)

I’m going to continue to enjoy and support Peter Capaldi’s adventures. I’m going to enjoy not just watching an actor portray an iconic role, but an actor ENJOY an iconic role. I’m going to watch an actor probably have more fun in one scene than just about anyone will enjoy, ever. And I’m going to remind myself that when things go wrong, even Peter Capaldi got to be the Doctor.

Good luck, Mr. Capaldi. It’s not often that one fan gets to say to another: good luck, I’ll be watching in this context. But Good Luck. I’ll be watching, every week.

Let's Get Inked!

My first time going to a tattoo convention was a little odd. I didn’t know what to expect (or who to expect) and I didn’t yet have any tattoos. I just admired them. I mean, tattoos are artwork. Artwork that you feel strong enough to keep on your body, and should hopefully make a statement about you, from: “I’m an enthusiastic supporter of naked ladies surrounded by snakes and flaming skulls” to “wow Kermit the Frog can be really funny.” But each one is a choice, no matter what you got put onto your skin. (or I guess technically right under it.)

Of course, I walked out of the convention with my first tattoo. A simple Shakespeare quote from Twelfth Night: “There is no darkness but ignorance,” said by the depressing fool Feste, who is the smartest man in the room. I got it because, hey, Shakespeare! And I figured the first one should be something that represented me.

That was three tattoos ago. I’ve been to several other conventions since then, and I’ve gotten a tattoo at each, including this past weekend at the annual tattoo convention right here in Washington, DC. Everyone who told me about it was right: They are incredibly addicting, so long as you get something that represents you, and not something random or just something “because you want to get a tattoo.” 

One of the great things about the Tattoo Convention is the fact that you see just about all types of people there: heavily tattooed, young kids, people getting their first ones, old people, young people, parents (with the young kids, duh)... it’s really a big group that covers a lot. And the cool thing is that they’re all there just having a good time. No one is really judging, no one is trying to one up anyone, other than one upping the tattoos in a friendly manner. It’s just sort of a good time.

I was lucky I was able to go with a friend of mine after having to cancel last year after getting the dreaded wintertime random sickness that wasn’t quite the flu and wasn’t quite a cold, but a weird mix in between. It’s the kind of thing where you don’t really feel like doing anything until you lie down, then once you do you get just enough energy to sit up, make plans, then go back to bed. So I was especially excited to get together this time with my friends to go.

We walked in, and were immediately presented with the loneliest booth at the convention: The tattoo removal stand. Sure, some people want to get an older one removed, or the name of someone that just didn’t quite work out, or maybe you were so angry at the season finale of Dexter that it’s time to get that removed... but generally it’s the lonely booth that people gaze upon on their way to view the artists.

And it was packed this year, with two full ballrooms and some spillover to some places I didn’t quite see in the back until I was almost done with the day. Did I mention that my friend had a wife? He has a wife who went in and got a six hour cover up on an older tattoo, while he got his which only took a few hours. I didn’t mind. The tattoo convention isn’t something I wanted to run in and out of... you need time to people watch.

This year there was no shortage of fun. There was a pinup contest, so there were a lot of people dressed as if they came straight from the 1950’s. And of course the heavily tattooed walking alongside the not really tattooed. There were people deciding what to get, a lot of people lying down getting an elaborate tattoo on their legs or sides (that seemed to be the new place to get it.) Then, of course, you saw a ton of people with saran wrap on their arms - the badge of honor given to those who’d just gotten their new tattoos. Those were the most interesting, because they had just made their choice. Of course they were proud of it (as I soon would be).

Of course, the extra time allowed me to get my new tattoo. This was a unique tattoo for me. For each of my three other tattoos, I had a vision. For this tattoo I had a vague idea, one that I knew I wanted to get, I just didn’t know how. I eventually decided on “Allons-y” the catch phrase of the 10th Doctor from Doctor Who.

I chose this because I have been a Doctor Who fan for most of mine life, watching the black and white reruns and not understanding why his spaceship didn’t look a little cooler. (I was young at the time.) So getting one was a no-brainer, it was going to happen, it was just a matter of when. I chose to get that catch phrase because I like the idea of yelling something when jumping into battle. And while “spoon!” (The catchphrase of the Tick) was briefly considered (very, extremely briefly) I knew I wanted something that represented my zanier side. And that’s the Doctor. I got it int the cool shape of the TARDIS, which was nice. 

But like all my tattoos, I got it for an extremely personal reason, part of which ties back to a post I was going to do back in November, but was busy with that whole “saving the world” thing. Back on November 23rd, 2013, there was a celebration for the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who. With a few exceptions and gaps, Doctor Who has been on the air for almost that entire time. And over time, the Doctor has come to represent something deeper than just a guy in a box who solves time crisises, looks good doing it, and does it usually with the help of an attractive companion. (I still love you, Karen Gillan.) That’s why I chose this tattoo. Something deeply entrenched in me that represents something bigger in my life. I think I need a little of the Doctor in me from time to time, to remind myself that the world is pretty fascinating. But I could go on. I wanted this brief paragraph to be an entire post. I will probably go back and write it at some point. But for now... tattoos!

Of course getting them stings a little... I mean, you’re getting a needle jabbed into your skin repeatedly. There’s always the wonder, “will I still like it?” which is why it’s important to pick something, put it down for a while, then pick it up again. Like I said, I didn’t do it as much with this tattoo. With the design, anyway. I was always going to get the phrase.... the catchphrase of the Doctor I consider my Doctor... somewhere it was just a matter of what. And of where.

Leaving the convention is the hardest part, mostly because you’ve spent a lot of time there, and you know it’s going to be another year before you get the chance to come again. Unless you can go back the next day, but I’m interning and working, who has that kind of time? So, with the three of us freshly inked up, or tatted up, depending on the slang you wanted to use, we headed out. 

And of course, once the pain wore off, we started thinking about what we wanted to get next...