Praying TARDIS

Tardis-wallpaper-tardis-6289817-800-600It’s hard to believe it’s been two months since my last post.  In that time, I’ve gone through one of those slumps that affects most writers and artists, with the result being my not writing.   A really good reason for this not writing has been this weird lack of focus on any one thing that I could, well, focus on.  And since the only consistency here has been inconsistency, I’ve decided to do a minor reboot of my blog again, honing it to that one other cultural phenom that also has no focus, namely the incomparable Doctor Who.

Now, by saying Doctor Who  has no focus I run the risk of pissing off approximately 619,253,517 Doctor Who fans, and alienating my 3 followers.  But really and truly, the show does cover so much territory — from black-and-white episodes about Aztecs to post-post-modern allegories about the meaning of mercy — that I feel I’m on pretty safe ground by saying a show that is about everything is a good foundation to continue my blog, which is about nothing at all.

Sometimes we work hard to achieve nothing.

So, really, other than to tell you that I am back, and stuck in neutral on Season 4 of the new DW, waiting for the season premiere of Mad Men, and waiting for my wife to catch up with me on Downton Abbey, and fending off the scourge of pollen that besets the wicked and righteous alike here in the Deep South, I am hoping, nah, praying that ye olde TARDIS can be the salvation of my rather disjointed blogging.

If not, then my next step will be to base it off Baba Yaga’s Dancing Hut; and if I go down that road I might as well just move back into my mother’s basement, which would be quite the challenge since 1) she’s no longer with us and, 2) doesn’t have a basement.

I’ll continue to sprinkle my blog with writing advice (don’t use exclamation points, at all, ever), but I’m going to quit pimping my fiction because I don’t want to be a salesman, regardless of the publishing climate these days.  I want to be a writer, and this is my platform, which is based on a copyrighted TV show older than I am, and a brain that is slowly withering on the vine.

As soon as I think of something sublime and ridiculous to say, though, I’ll sign off for now.

Seizures later,

Keith

P.S. The blog is now the blue of a British police box, in case you’re curious, which I doubt you are.

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3 thoughts on “Praying TARDIS

  1. VERY glad to see you’re back! My life udderly lactose ruminations you gave us as mother’s milk. Gouda go. Butter stop churning out cheesy jokes before more occurd to me.

  2. Say Keith, I was just wondering if you could help me out on this one.

    I’ve been thinking about the TARDIS. Now, it moves about all over the Universe and into different dimensions, and I don’t know what all. I’m assuming The Doctor and all the people gallivanting about in the TARDIS have natural functions, and so on while they’re inside, meaning they eat, and also use the toilet.

    So – how does the TARDIS get rid of the effluent? Is it transformed into TARDIS fuel, or is it squirted out airliner style as blue ice? Or, is it kept in tanks until such time the TARDIS makes a stop in a TARDISbago Park and The Doctor (or assistant) has to attach the pipes and pump out the poo?

    Sorry for the dumb question, but I haven’t seen too many Doctor Whos (Whose?), and I understand plumbing is one of your interests.

  3. There was an episode in the new, rebooted series where the Doctor’s Companion (I think it was Rose) asked where the bathroom was located.

    Usually, the only two characters are the Doctor and his Companion, who seems to be more confidant than lover. But I’m also really new to the show, and there are a lot (years) worth of details I don’t know about!

    Thanks for asking. Plumbing is always close to my heart; especially the aorta.

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