The Curious Incident Of The Dog In The Night-Time (2012)
"My name is Christopher John Francis Boone. I know all the countries of the world and their capital cities and every prime number up to 7,507."

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warlocksmith:

Remember the 50’s, the good old days?  Neighborhoods were safe to walk at night, men were men and women were women, the long summer days never seemed to end and you could walk hand in hand with your best gal into the local space-time anomaly and never be seen again.

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(via lizis2spooky)

64px:

funandflirtynog:

SNAKES DONT HAVE ARMS? THEY CANT GO BOWLING

fuck. there goes my snake bowling team, fuck this

(via lesbianvenom)

Accept the story as given: The Doctors re-write history, save the Time Lords and thus release themselves from the burden of guilt which has haunted the Doctor for hundreds of year.

And yet the story as given also maintains that in saving themselves, they exterminated the Daleks. Genocide.

It seems Moffat’s Doctor suffered not because he committed war crimes, but because he committed war crimes against the wrong people. Moffat’s Doctor is actually quite okay with genocide — not one of his incarnations gives it a second thought here! — provided the right people are slaughtered.

One could actually make a pretty good case that any war against the Daleks is a Just War and that only genocide could lead to victory in it. But Moffat doesn’t make the case; he doesn’t even acknowledge the issue.

The Time Lords are saved and that’s all that matters. Seldom — if ever — has Doctor Who offered such a chauvinistic message as a happy ending.

(Strangely, the episode’s secondary story stands in direct contrast. In it, the Doctor forces humans and Zygons to negotiate a way out of their conflict, insisting that killing innocents is never worth the cost. From that synopsis it seems Moffat must have intended the secondary story as a comment on the primary, but I saw no internal evidence to suggest the parallels were anything but incidental.)

This moral, this philosophical, blindness appears again and again in Moffat’s Doctor Who. Consider the girl (and world) in a refrigerator in the above-referenced “A Christmas Carol” or the glee with which his Doctor informed the Silence he had programmed every member of the human race to kill them “all, on sight” in “The Day of the Moon”.

It is not the fact that Moffat’s Doctor kills that is so problematic; the Doctor has a long history of using violence when nothing else will work. It is that Moffat’s Doctor kills so easily, sometimes with joy and almost always, without acknowledging that there even are moral issues involved.

This is especially ironic given Moffat’s obvious love for the program’s past. Think of “Genesis of the Daleks”, when the 4th Doctor could not bring himself to destroy the Daleks more or less in the cradle, or “The Runaway Bride”, in which the 10th Doctor nearly allowed himself to die after destroying the Racnoss. Ten’s face, as he came to recognize the horror of what he had done is one I can still see in my mind’s eye, though it has been several years since I watched the story.

It is almost enough to make Moffat’s version of Doctor Who seem like another program entirely, an alternate universe’s series, in which might makes right and genocide is fodder for joy and jokes, so long as the “right” groups are the ones on the receiving end of slaughter.

On first viewing TOTD can seem good, but on second viewing you realise how Moffat!Who is lacking the fundamentals of what the entire rest of Doctor Who had: exploring morality. (X)

The entire Zygon plot was incidental. As far as I can tell, they all fucking starved to death in there, because we never saw what happened!

(via pangurbanthewhite)

Moffat’s Who: No one we like ever dies, but commit genocide on people we don’t like and call it a party. So gross. 

(via fandomsandfeminism)

(via ofpotterandwho)


I am very sad to report that Carla Laemmle, one of our last direct links to the world of silent cinema, has passed away at 104.
Born in 1909 with the given name Rebecca, she later changed her name to Carla. The niece of Universal Studios founder Carl Laemmle, she danced as the prima ballerina in The Phantom of the Opera (1925) and spoke the first line of dialogue in the first sound horror film, Dracula (1931). May she rest in peace and be forever remembered.

I am very sad to report that Carla Laemmle, one of our last direct links to the world of silent cinema, has passed away at 104.

Born in 1909 with the given name Rebecca, she later changed her name to Carla. The niece of Universal Studios founder Carl Laemmle, she danced as the prima ballerina in The Phantom of the Opera (1925) and spoke the first line of dialogue in the first sound horror film, Dracula (1931). May she rest in peace and be forever remembered.

(via dodobingbingbing)

spyke1985:

asexyrainbow:

castiel-in-a-sherlocked-tardis:

THIS IS AMAZING

I’m about five of these listed above. I’m not sure if that makes me extra weird.

This post. Forget all the posts that try to lift your self esteem or show fluffy kittens because they supposedly will make you happy. THIS POST has made me happier than any other post that was meant to make me happy ever has.

(via howglorygoes)

justablueumbrella:

A writer for the new york times interviewed a series of people who had survived jumping off the golden gate bridge. Every person she interviewed admitted that about two thirds of the way down, they realized that every seemingly meaningless problem that caused them to jump was fixable.

Every single one.

THIS IS EXTREMELY IMPORTANT

(via seerofsarcasm)

everythingscenic:

A Quiet Place. Andrew Lieberman.

New York City Opera.

(via itriedthatonceitwasabadmove)