i wish i had half the amount of self confidence the sixth doctor has
I have a question. Does Harry have this stuff all planned out months in advance? Like is there a section in his journal called “The No Chill List” where he plots out his reckless behavior by month and date? Does Louis scheme with him? Do the other boys throw in their two cents? Or does Harry just do it all spur of the moment? He’s like an evil genius. I want to know what’s going on in that head of his.
Anonymous said: people are so threatened by the mere possibility that harry MIGHT not be straight lmao ive seen so many people just go "we know he likes bold prints so hes saying the shirts are a strong look" then why wouldnt harry just say strong look? hes seen the signs at shows he knew what he would be implying likeeee
To be honest at this point I don’t think it’s just the possibility of Harry being anything but heterosexual that people are threatened by.
It’s the potential of them being wrong. The potential that all this time, after they’ve fought with so many people, thinking that they were in the right, thinking that they were protecting Harry and Louis, that they were wrong. That the worldview they’ve gotten because of it is wrong. That the media lies to them, that One Direction lies to them, that the twitter accounts sometimes might just be wrong.
That’s scary. It’s scary to admit that you’re not right. It’s scary to admit that something you’ve been fighting against is right. It’s scary to think that what you’ve been doing, thinking you’ve been helping people you care about, may have been making the situation worse.
It’s going to be hard for these people when Harry and Louis come out. For most of them, it won’t be because they have trouble accepting the fact that two young men they admire are gay (or, at least, interested in men), rather, it will be because they’ve fought so hard for the wrong thing, and harboured so must resentment, when they could have been supporting all along.
Russell T. Davies
The Writers’s Tale: The Final Chapter
Okay, so it’s been a week and a half and I am still hopping mad about the Time War retcon. I know, I know. I know. I mean, it’s not keeping me up nights or anything, but every time I try to engage with fandom I just end up
So this is my attempt to just lay it all out, say my piece, make all of my totally correct and completely cogent arguments and hopefully just go back to “yeah that”ing in other people’s posts.
It’s rull long. You’ve been warned.
— Russell T. Davies on whether we’d ever find out exactly what happened in the Time War | DWM Issue 374 (via rointheta)
Discussion and critique of The Day of the Doctor:From 2005, Doctor Who has been the story of a man who did something terrible and lost everything, and learns to recover thanks to the friends he makes and by never giving up and saving lives and bringing peace where he can. In the 50th anniversary episode that was changed to be the story of a man that never actually lost anything or did anything terrible, though wouldn’t realise this until after a few years upon which he’d get everything he mourned back.
When I first saw Doctor Who, I was struck (amongst many other things) by how fresh and wonderful the dialogue was, miles beyond other TV shows. Three things to note about RTD’s dialogue:
1) witty, quippy dialogue that sounds natural and spontaneous
2) deeply emotional statements simply expressed
3) fitting and well-earned moments of lyricismUnder the cut, examples of this in Rose and Love & Monsters, as well as a few quotes from The Writer’s Tale.
Since I’m so critical of this series, and I’m about to be more critical, I think it’s important that I talk about WHY I watch it. I don’t love hating on things.
RTD’s Doctor Who set the bar really damn high, admittedly. Maybe it just hit me at a certain time when I needed to see it, but that show changed my life. When Rose says “The Doctor showed me a better way to live” in the first series finale, I realized that was the message for all of us. That we love inspirational fiction, we watch uplifting movie after uplifting movie, yet somehow we’re never truly uplifted, the stories fail because they don’t stay with us, they don’t really change us, we turn the TV off and we go back to exactly who we were. We watch the underdog triumph again and again, we love that narrative, yet those of us who are really underdogs never think we can do it in real life, we never apply it. As Rose realized her potential, and went from an apathetic sales clerk drifting through life without purpose to someone courageous and driven who didn’t give up even when it was hopeless, I found strength too.
And I came to not only fiercely love the Doctor, but even identify with him. In The Impossible Planet, when Ten is stranded, seemingly having lost the TARDIS forever, his utter lack of ability to cope with the things that are expected of a person, like getting a mortgage or something, rang very true to me. And I felt that I, like the Doctor, was someone who wasn’t very good at “normal” things, and it was easy to believe that because of that, I was worthless, but that that was overlooking qualities I have that aren’t as valued by society but could make me valuable in my own, different kind of way. I’d spent so much time thinking “good at mortgages” was the only way to be a good adult, a good human, and from Doctor Who I realized I could be good with bravery, a spirit of adventure, and of course amazing friends.
As a writer, I’ve loved the arcs of RTD’s companions. I realized that each one was special, and not because of something that happened to them, or even something the Doctor gave them, but because each and every person is born full of amazing potential and possibility, each and every person is their own fantastic universe. And little by little, somehow, that’s obscured. Every time we’re talked over or told we’re not interesting, every time we’re told to “be realistic,” every time we’re rammed into gender roles, every little insult, each minor wound, tarnishes us until we don’t even know who we were. And the Doctor’s magic isn’t that he makes people extraordinary, but that he sees through the gunk of insignificance we’ve picked up in our travels, he knows who we really are, and he helps us see it, too. The moments Rose, Martha, and Donna were really allowed to shine, it was with the brilliance they’d had in there all along, and you could see the Doctor’s joy in witnessing them discovering it. Having watched a bunch of the classics too, I know that was most often the Doctor’s role—as a mentor, a stepping stone to greatness. I believe he really tried to leave each companion better than he found them, and was utterly crushed in situations when he failed to do so. Companions don’t stay with him forever because that isn’t their role, or his. He lifts them up, and he lets them go. That’s the Doctor.
And I fell so profoundly in love with this character, this universe, this sense of wonder and discovery. I started watching the classic episodes purely out of love for the world RTD showed me, and I think that’s what he most hoped to accomplish, because this was a world he fell in love with too.
And that, that is why I’m still watching. Not because I’m a hater, not because I love to be cynical and prove I’m so much more progressive and socially aware than you. Did RTD make mistakes? Hell yeah. But my metric for enjoyment isn’t whether the show was completely socially just, because then I’d never get to enjoy anything, and I like enjoyment. I can let a certain amount of bullshit go if you move me, if the story is GOOD and I love watching the characters interact. That doesn’t mean it isn’t worth calling out bullshit in good stories, it’s more of at the end of the day, did I enjoy it enough that it was worth it anyway?
I don’t watch Doctor Who for the amazing, tightly-woven plots, or the special effects, or the scientific realism, or any of the many things you could probably get better somewhere else. I watch it for the Doctor, and the close, often intense relationships he has with his companions, the love and the growth and the way they somehow make each other more themselves, the way true friends do."