A few years ago, the Internet was all the buzz about a concept called the Singularity. Computers were supposed to rise up at some point, start self governing and replicating, making little new robot life forms and in the process making us better.
That’s the gist of it, anyway. Wild predictions say that it will come around 2025, but those are some optimistic bastards who never played Grand Theft Auto and watched their computer partners in crime run into walls of bullets and become meat puppets for simulated murder causing the same mission to be played over and over again like Groundhog Day from hell.
Point is, I do not think I will see the world where Scarlet Johansson lives in my phone. If you think the reference to the movie Her is optimistic, my only other reference is Arnold Schwarzenegger telling me to follow him if I want to live and we all see the state the California government is in.
The rise of computer artificial intelligence is coming, but I am breaking down. My teeth are breaking down, turning from friends of steak to enemies of corn. My heart and lungs can not take a climb up a steep hill no matter how many times I do it and I seem to only be able to have sex six times a day. All seems unfair, this aging bit, and, knock on wood, I still have a while to go.
I need a doctor.
Thankfully, this past weekend we got a new Doctor. How’s that for a segue?
Peter Capaldi started his tenure as the next incarnation of Doctor Who this weekend and despite a two day download, I got to see it.
The episode contained clockwork men and lizard detectives we have seen before, but a new direction and decorations for our Doctor. I don’t think I like it.
That’s a joke, of course. I enjoyed the story, as little of it as there was. The shining point here, as it is in most of Stephen Moffet’s run, is the characters.
The transition of Eleven to Twelve was the crux of the episode, his erratic behavior and Clara’s having to deal with it. The episode was rife with symbolism about what makes a man, how many changes you can go through before you can claim to still be who you are. It is quiet and strong, this story that also contains a dinosaur in the middle of Victorian London.
But I found myself missing one moment the other Doctors had in their regeneration episodes. The moment where the Doctor proclaims he is the Doctor. Nine grabbed a scared Rose's hand and said "Run." Ten swaggered out of the TARDIS in a bathrobe and put a beat down on some aliens. Eleven found a bow tie and walked through images of his past selves on a roof top. Twelve sat in a chair and asked questions.
If that’s the character choice for the writer, quiet and reserved, always questioning, then I am fine with it. But I like a big moment for our new Doctors when they come into the role.
Through the episode, Twelve is bouncing off the walls but ends with a quiet moment of confusion and a fear of acceptance. Not what we have come to expect in the Doctor and I am curious to see where they go with it.
So while I sit and wait for my body to break down around me and the machines to rule the humans, I have hope that the Moffet team can craft entertaining drama and comedy, fun stories full of hope and wonder like they did with Eleven.
Let’s just hope they get to it before my kidneys turn the wrong color.