New Who

When I read online that they were going to reveal the new Doctor Who on Saturday, I found myself to be unexpectedly rather excited. So much so that I found myself constantly flicking over from Liverpool’s match against Preston to catch the announcement on ‘Doctor Who Confidential’. And, it would have to be something very interesting to make me turn over from a Liverpool match.

I’m not entirely sure why I was so intrigued. I’ve watched and enjoyed the show since the re-launch, but I’m hardly in the category of enthusiast. I think it’s probably that, in the age of the internet, there are so few surprises for the TV fan. It seems like more people read previews and spoilers than watch the shows themselves. Sure, it would have been more thrilling for us to learn the identity of the new Doctor within the show itself, but this was the next best thing.

Throughout the programme, we were teased as to the identity of the esteemed actor, with the clues being that he was young, young and that he was 26 (which is young). I was a bit baffled; him being 26 ruled out all the bookmakers favourites. I just had my fingers crossed that they hadn’t totally sold out and hired a pretty boy type for such an iconic role.  When the moment of revelation actually came, I must admit I made no reaction; I had to actually wait until the caption came on screen before I was satisfied that this guy was actually the new Doctor and not just one of the crew talking about him.

Turning to my trusted friend, the IMDB, I soon discovered that Matt Smith is one of the most popular names on there, however, I didn’t find out what else he had been in. After a bit of digging, I found that not only was he the eleventh doctor, he was the eleventh Matt Smith on IMDB. That’s synchronicity for you. Overall my initial feelings were one of disappointment, mainly because if you don’t know the actor at all, then you can’t really play the game of imagining what he will bring to the part. Even an established actor that you didn’t like would still give you that dubious pleasure. But unlike some of the more rabid internet forum dwellers, I soon began to warm to the appointment.

Firstly, despite his age (yes, he’s 26, can we all get over it now please?), he definitely looks…interesting, and clearly hasn’t been chosen just as some vapid eye candy; there are a whole bunch of older actors who could of been hired with more obvious sex appeal. In short, let’s give the guy a chance.  Secondly, he was the clear choice of new show runner Steven Moffat, new Who’s best writer by a country mile, whose opinion you can’t help but trust on the matter.  If he doesn’t know who would make a good Doctor then I don’t know who would.

All in all, it’s made me want to see where they’re going to take it, we just have a frustrating wait until 2010 for that to happen.

The Sherbys

It’s that time of the year again for The Sherbys, the Sherby57 Annual Awards. It’s a good chance to catch up with some of the more memorable moments of 2008. Have a look at them here.

Highlights include:

  • Russell Hobbs’ Crumb Collision Technology
  • TV hit “Fear My Clit”
  • A poem about a dark rug
  • The Bushwhackers and their bobbing heads
  • Toastergate
  • Hans Klaussner is looking for love

What more could you ask for? Check them out now! I insist!

Ten Predictions For 2009

It’s the last bastion of a lazy blogger… it’s a predictions list! Admittedly, some of these predictions are so personal and\or obvious that I’m unlikely to win this year’s Nostradamus award (I confidently predict I won’t win it).

1. A day won’t go by without me messing with my IPhone to the point of obsession (and beyond).

2. I’ll get angry on a weekly basis over internet forums discussing either “why UK comedy is shit and US comedy is great” or “why US comedy is shit and UK comedy is great”, especially those contributors who state opinions with Hitler-like zeal.

3. This year’s ‘I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here’ will feature someone putting their hand in to some insects whilst squealing.

4. The longer that Liverpool stay in the title race, the more I’ll turn in to a nervous wreck. If they’re still in with a chance of being champions in the last week of the season then I will have to be hospitalised.

5. Football pundits will give opinions that are so black and white, in order to make mundane incidents seem ‘controversial’, that they will cease to have any meaning.

6. I’ll buy books at a rate faster than I can read them.

7. I’ll compulsively update my Amazon recommendations every dinner time while at work, not satisfied until I’ve checked up to at least 500 suggestions. Eventually it will recommend the perfect book. Hopefully.

8. Sky + HD will continue to be an enigma, even after I’ve had it installed. The question will go unanswered; is it the greatest thing ever, or slightly disappointing?

9. I sadly won’t blog as much as I’d like to and then feel really pissed off that I didn’t, resulting in the odd week throughout the year when I’ll post every day for a week or so, before giving up for a couple of months.

10. Computers will become so cheap that you’ll get one free with Saturday’s Daily Mail. This one is more of a punt than the others.

For some slightly more outlandish of my predictions, click here.

The Can’t Be Arsed Factor

Ah, the ‘New Year’. All the best, take care, thanks for coming, see you next year etc etc. A time of fresh starts and half-hearted resolutions. My new year’s resolution is not to make any resolutions! Boom boom, ha ha. Hilarious.

Anyway.

What better time, than a brand spanking new year, is there to talk about last years X-Factor final? Well, probably within a day or two of it actually happening, but I was too lazy to do that. Sadly, I still feel obliged to finish the whole thing off, so here we are. Sorry about that.

Actually, I don’t know how to say this, other than to just say it; I can’t be arsed writing anything about the X Factor final. And this sums up the ephemeral nature of the programme perfectly. I’d love to be able to say that my previous posts about the talent show were simply me poking a post-modern thumb in the eye of irony, but that would be a big fat lie. It really did matter to me who won as I watched the final, and I would have even voted if my landline phone had been downstairs (I’m not a big enough fan to vote from my mobile). But a mere three weeks later I can barely sum up the energy to finish this sentence. I had so many interesting things to say about the final as well, but the moment has well and truly evaporated. And that’s how it should be.

Anyway, with that finally off my chest, maybe I can get going again with this bloody blog. Fingers crossed.

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