Which Disney Princess Are You? Geeks, Gays and Misogyny


I’ve written previously about a perceived ‘descent into infantile triviality’ where a seemingly pathological aversion to being viewed as ‘too serious’ manifests itself in particular as a ‘facetious fixation on popular culture (which) flows neatly into consumerism’. Nothing better sums up this trend than the explosion in the past 12 months of sites like Buzzfeed, built almost entirely around lists and gifs which offer jolts of recognition to personalities overwhelmingly built around particular aspects of culture. Interestingly, the particular identity which much of this seems to revolve around is that of the ‘geek’. This perhaps isn’t surprising, as this is not only an identity overwhelmingly based on consumption but also one which relies heavily on gif-able culture for its existence.

While this is a general trend, I wrote last year about how this particular identity was becoming the dominant subculture in what we know as ‘gay culture’. This makes sense when you think about the ways in which this serves capital and how they neatly complement the increasing positioning of the LGBT community as both a market and a marketing tool. It’s been no surprise, then, that even since I wrote the ‘Gay Geeks’ blog I’ve noticed a dramatic upsurge in the prevalence of what I described. It also increasingly converges: this morning one of the first things I saw on my Facebook was a link to ‘Disney Princesses as Game of Thrones Characters’ while Push The Button, a gay night devoted to semi-ironic love for c-grade 90s pop, is soon having an evening devoted to The Little Mermaid. The Disneyfication of the geek identity has been fascinating to watch (and is clearly something Buzzfeed has picked up on) but it has ominous undercurrents with regards to a geek culture which is often accused of misogyny (it almost entirely seems to revolve around Disney Princesses). When you take the Gay Geek there are further levels of disquiet, with the issues levelled at the geek identity potentially being compounded by the accusations that misogyny is prevalent amongst gay males. If we look at the markers of the Gay Geek, aside from Disney Princesses, comics, video games, Game of Thrones, Doctor Who and the rest you commonly see a love for Ru Paul’s Drag Race present. It’s impossible not to notice that all of these things have problems with their representations of women who, in pretty much all of them, are sexy and sassy while ultimately being in thrall to the brilliant men around them. This is most explicit in Drag Race, where a group of men act out this sassy fantasy and find it reproduced by viewers around the world (with added racial issues as white men unthinkingly do impressions of black female stereotypes).

I thought of this when reading the Rohin Guha piece on gay male misogyny which has caused a minor storm in some circles. Guha notes that, in certain gay subcultures, women are:

…essentially unwelcome, unless they come to us as a Real Housewife, a pop diva, or an Tony award winner–or an unassuming fag hag. To anyone just coming out of the closet and hoping to get his bearings in the gay male community, the attitude towards women is simple: They are just objects whose function is to serve gay men.

The fit between this and the Gay Geek identity is startling and finds its perfect expression in HBO’s new ‘gay drama’ Looking. The main character is a self-identified geek who designs video games. When he’s not talking about sex with his friends, they exchange self-consciously sassy references to popular culture. His date purchases him trading cards based on 80s movie The Goonies to impress him. While this is going on, women are almost entirely absent from the lives of the central characters. They appear to have a single female friend who is a gay man’s fantasy of a fag hag, always on hand to go drinking and always willing to sit quietly in the lounge while you bring over your Grindr shag. The only other females who have even had lines have been a snooty artist who sacks one of the guys and a chef who refuses to help kick-start the restaurant dream of another. This treatment (absence, largely) of women has been one of the most egregious aspects of the show yet I’ve not seen a single mention of it in any review.

It’s interesting that the attacks on Guha’s piece seem to come from a place of ‘but women shouldn’t even be in gay places and they touch us and treat us like accessories too!’ Aside from the absurd pre-school nature of ‘they started it!’, I find this deeply disingenuous. There is certainly a damaging instrumentalisation of gay people as ‘liberal accessories’ but it’s one in which the entire gay media and community is very complicit. We fall over ourselves to adore straight ‘allies’ who praise gay people (Attitude giving Caitlin Moran an ‘Honorary Gay Award’), even when it’s done in the most patronising and offensive ways. Our gay magazines feature an endless parade of attractive straight men in their pants (I wonder if the writer of the linked Huffington Post piece would take issue with an attractive straight ‘gay ally’ like Ben Cohen being present in ‘his’ gay clubs) and we barely bat an eyelid at Lady Gaga’s adoption of ‘the gays’ as her ‘cause’ or Britney Spears referring to her gay fans as ‘somewhat girls’. No, this defence smacks of people being called out on their behaviour and being outraged (even if we accepted the defences offered, they depict nothing so much as deeply dysfunctional relationships which apparently are fine unless someone actually dares to point out how fucked up they are.)

Misogyny is clearly real and there’s no reason that gay men would be excluded from that. What makes this particularly worthy of commentary is that we seem to think of gay men and women as natural allies and so think we couldn’t possibly be misogynist. Yet I think it’s very present – and with the rise of the Gay Geek it’s being expressed in over more subtly damaging ways. Facing this problem is but one way in which we can educate ourselves, avoid the ‘infantile triviality’ and progress to a position where we can start to challenge these issues.

The Great Beauty

To look life in the face, always, to look life in the face, and to know it for what it is…at last, to love it for what it is, and then to put it away.

This quote, attributed to Virginia Woolf, keeps popping into my head since I watched The Great Beauty a couple of evenings ago. It stands in direct contrast to one of the central scenes in the film, where the protagonist Jep demolishes the hypocrisies of a friend by noting that:

We also know our untruths and for this, unlike you, we end up talking about nonsense, about trivial matters, because we don’t want to revel in our pettiness.

This may sound like an appealing self-awareness, a deflating of self-importance. In the course of the film, however, Jep comes to realise that in attempting to pre-empt and avoid his own untruths, he has ended up avoiding life. The Great Beauty is not something which comes along but rather the experience itself:

This is how it always ends. With death. But first there was life. Hidden beneath the blah, blah, blah. It is all settled beneath the chitter chatter and the noise. Silence and sentiment. Emotion and fear. The haggard, inconstant flashes of beauty. And then the wretched squalor and miserable humanity. All buried under the cover of the embarrassment of being in the world. Beyond there is what lies beyond. I don’t deal with what lies beyond. Therefore…let this novel begin.

It has been a recurring trope of the film that Jep once wrote a serious novel and has since written interviews. People ask him several times why he doesn’t write again. He is shown revelling at the centre of extravagant, hedonistic parties, surrounded by people who chase the lustre of ostentatious ‘creativity’. We see an unsuccessful actor who suddenly announces she is now a writer, then mid-thought decides that she might direct a film. Jep’s friend spends much of the film chasing a dream of staging his own play, though it seems to be a dream heavily inspired by his pursuit of aforementioned ‘actor’. In the course of his writing Jep encounters a couple of dreadful artists: a self-indulgent performance artist who speaks about herself in the third-person and who waffles about ‘vibrations’, and a young girl who dramatically hurls pots of paint at a canvas. It is all nothing and Jep is no-one, a cipher at the heart of the sound and fury. As we see in the final lines of the quote above, Jep comes to realise this and endeavours to confront life in all its complex beauty and horror, figuratively signalled by his decision to write a novel again.

In the middle of nothing it’s easy to be anything. Everyone in Jep’s life performs for one another, avoiding sincerity and seeking validation for their self-image. Jep’s own journey is set in motion by the death of an old girlfriend, his first love. Having avoided his own past for so long, he finds that the roots of who he has become offer redemption. This is paralleled by his friend who, realising that his play is dreadful and his audience are politely indulging him, dramatically decides to return to his home village after decades away. “Rome has really disappointed me”, he offers as explanation.

It will be obvious to many by now that while Rome is an integral part of the film I saw many parallels with London within it. Only last week I found myself telling an old acquaintance whom I’d bumped into in Glasgow that it was so easy to get lost in London and not even realise it. So easy to surround yourself with people who unthinkingly reflect your self-image back at you and demand that you do the same, allowing you to believe that you are what you want to be. I think this is part of why going back home for Christmas is so difficult for many here – it threatens to puncture the illusion, confronts us with a very real history of ourselves in contrast to the ‘self-made’ people we have become.  We must look at ourselves with some attempt at honesty and humility, not so that we can revel in triviality to avoid the discomforts of sincerity but rather so we can look life squarely in the face and begin to understand what lies beyond its appealing, deceptive surfaces. Only then can we grow, only then can we truly immerse ourselves in what life has to offer.

Heck, it even brings to mind the final words of the 11th Doctor:

We all change. When you think about, it we’re all different people all through our lives and that’s OK. That’s good. Gotta keep it moving, so long as you remember all the people that you used to be.

‘Gay Geeks’


A lot’s been written on the commodification of the ‘geek’ identity – I’ve briefly touched on it myself – and a lot has been written about the commodification of the gay identity. Given the things they have in common (an attachment to ‘minority’ status, a foundation in excessive consumption, a strong sense of belonging to a larger group) it’s perhaps no surprise that there’s a big overlap between the two. In fact, it seems to me that the ‘gay geek’ is becoming (if it hasn’t already become) the dominant ‘identity’ amongst gay men. Just as it became unacceptable in polite company to be a banker, the stereotypical muscle-bound, preened, clubbing gay man is largely the object of derision and seen as hopelessly self-destructive. Instead, the gay scene is increasingly populated by ‘geeks’, with things like Doctor Who, Game of Thrones, comics, Apple , games and ironic appreciation of 90s pop and/or reality tv being touchstones. Perhaps I’ve been in East London too long but the gay club nights which reflect this identity, relying on a deliberately lo-fi & retrograde aesthetic which harks back to London and New York in the 70s/80s, have certainly been spreading further afield.

Perhaps the most interesting aspect of this is the sexualisation of the geek aesthetic. If the airbrushed vanity of a club like Room Service is considered rather naff, that’s no reason not to hit the gym hard. Instead the exhibitionism is given a reason to be beyond self-love, whether that be a veneer of art, performance or the ironic detachment which saturates a million images of guys with embarrassed expressions wearing patterned H&M pants and sporting a toothbrush in their mouths. Indeed, it’s no surprise (and no mistake) that much modern ‘gay art’ concerns itself with this aesthetic and this identity.

Of course it’s not to be taken as a given that this is all a bad thing. The issue is less with the enjoyment of ‘geek’ pursuits than with the cementing of (yet another) identity based in purchase power and “the slow creep of media consumption as a mode of living”. These are things to be considered rather than dismissed. What caused me to put these brief thoughts down was this column in the Evening Standard today, one that seems to cement the status of the ‘gay geek’ as a new norm and, crucially, as one useful to capital. It repeats the oft-heard assertions that gay people are more educated and more affluent, referring to a study from The Williams Institute at UCLA. Yet read the link and you’ll see that the study is far more complex than the trite presentation in the column suggests. Investigate further and you’ll find that the same institution presented research suggesting that LGBT people were more likely to be poor than heterosexuals. The research is patchy to say the least but certainly seems to suggest that LGBT people are no better off than heterosexuals in the UK. Certainly a moment of consideration of the column’s assertions makes them seem odd given that we are constantly told that LGBT people are more likely to suffer from mental health issues, which have most definitely been linked to poverty.

What seems to be happening here, then, is that the ‘gay geek’ identity is conflated with the educated, professional (and overwhelmingly white, mostly male) demographic who seem to so dominate modern LGBT political narratives. It’s not surprising that the already privileged are more visible. The removal of ‘problematic’ LGBT people who experience poverty, aren’t ‘professionals’ and for whom a “a corporate commitment to gay rights” means absolutely nothing is not only evident, it’s insidious. Some anonymous executive is quotes as saying:

It is a cliché but the average professional gay person tends to be clever, probably not yet in a civil partnership and certainly not yet a parent. This means they can dedicate more of their time to their career and ultimately to our bottom line, at least for now.

The quote makes it absolutely clear that this ‘commitment to gay rights’ is only for some: if you have or plan to have children, if you aren’t university educated, if you have commitments and a life outside of work, the strong implication is that you’re of no interest. It’s a profoundly troubling quote, not least suggesting that a certain class of gay man is advancing over the backs of women who have the audacity to become pregnant. Yet it’s not parsed in any way whatsoever and is just presented as ‘proof’ that life for the ‘gay geek’ is dandy. We also have the strong whiff of homonationalism with the ‘revelation’ that the world’s third-biggest arms dealer BAE Systems is going to be “champion(ing) diversity aggressively among its workforce over the next year, starting with a co-sponsorship of the inaugural PinkNews awards in October.” Of course LGBT organisations lending their ‘gay is good’ cachet to dubious organisations is nothing new but this is still breathtaking. BAE Systems has a history of corruption and an enduring relationship with the despotic regime in Saudi Arabia (as well as other authoritarian regimes, including Egypt). It’s fair to say that LGBT rights in Saudia Arabia are not in a good place, just as human rights in general are not. It’s absolutely staggering that an arms dealer explicitly profiting in the oppression, injuring and murdering of people will be ‘aggressively’ championing ‘diversity’ at an event hosted by a British LGBT organisation.

What is the ‘gay geek’ here, then, if not a convenient reinforcement of the Western neoliberal social order? They are the ‘right’ kind of gay and, as such, fully deserve to be able to participate in and profit from the brutalising of those pesky brown people while ignoring the uppity queers who ruin it for everyone else with their poverty, their radicalism or their general awkwardness.

It’s a quite fascinating use of an ostensibly harmless identity. Of course there is a leap from the ‘gay geeks’ I describe at the start to the Evening Standard column and many who identify with the former will rightly find the latter abhorrent. Nonetheless, it does illustrate some of the potential pitfalls of tying our self-identity too closely to a larger group based on consumption and/or even on sexuality. Most importantly, it emphatically illustrates the axiom that the personal is political.

Some UBER-GEEKY thoughts on Christmas Day’s ‘Doctor Who’

I met a friend for lunch last week who, in the course of conversation, asked me if I still watched ‘Doctor Who’. While asking this she caught herself and said, “Is it even still on?” She said she had loved it during the RTD years but had drifted away after David Tennant left. I forgot about this until out a couple of nights later with other friends who joked about my well-known habit of insisting on watching Who on Christmas Day. Two of them also said they had once watched it and had now ‘given up’.

Clearly Who’s ratings are still healthy – people are not deserting it in droves. Yet I think it’s fair to say that there is a disconnect between the unfailing enthusiasm found in critics (and hardcore Who nuts) and the response found in many casual viewers. I’m not really sure where I fit in – I watched Who when I was young, I read many of the spin-off novels and I dressed up as The Doctor at Halloween. When Who returned, however, I wasn’t hugely interested. I watched Christopher Ecclestone’s year if I happened to be in and missed most of Season 2 (having just moved to London that year, I had other things going on) until I watched the finale ‘Doomsday’ in Retro Bar with a friend visiting from Glasgow. I hadn’t even watched the first part of its two-part story but I loved it. I bawled my eyes out at that beach scene between The Doctor and Rose and laughed like a drain at Catherine Tate’s appearance in the dying seconds. After that I was hooked, spending money I could ill-afford on the Season 1 box set and making a religious appointment to watch every episode since. The finales of both Season 3 and Season 4 coincided with Gay Pride in London and watching them provided the climax of both days. A group of us gathered at my boyfriend’s flat to watch David Tennant’s departure on New Year’s Day 2010 and about 8 of us got together to view Matt Smith’s debut later that year. So I would never claim to be one of those super-fans who can identify every reference to the ‘classic era’ but I would definitely class myself as a fan.

I know that there was much criticism and ridicule of aspects of the RTD years, some of it justified. Yet RTD’s main strength is writing characters and I fell in love with The Doctor, Rose, Donna…heck, even Martha. The show amused me and moved me and whilst it was sometimes ridiculous and its endings too convenient, the characters kept my attention and my affection. When RTD left, however, I was thrilled to hear that Steven Moffat was taking over. Moffat’s episodes in the RTD era were rarely less than brilliant, sometimes awe-inspiringly so. In ‘The Eleventh Hour’ Matt Smith turned out to be a hugely appealing Doctor. Everything looked good.

Now, two years into Moffat’s reign, I sadly find myself approaching episodes like ‘The Snowmen’ with a mixture of trepidation and flat resignation. It’s been a while since I loved this show and unfortunately this episode was archetypal of many of the reasons why. A quick look:

  • Foremost – Moffat’s elevation of a core ‘mystery’ above all else. Arcs are nothing new for the show, certainly existing before RTD. Yet while RTD fit the arc (sometimes clumsily) into the show, Moffat seems to bend the entire show to the arc. Season 5’s crack and Season 6’s ‘death of The Doctor/River Song’ loomed so large over proceedings that the mystery of how they would be resolved became the central driving force behind the narrative. Yet both turned out to be an utter mess. Many of the questions the show raised remain unanswered. Many of them make absolutely no sense, even within the show’s universe. The Melody Pond/River Song issue of Season 6 became so ridiculous that it became impossible to simply enjoy a random story without thinking “WHY AREN’T THESE PEOPLE UPSET ABOUT THEIR MISSING BABY?!” It called for a suspension of belief verging on a lobotomy. Nonetheless, Moffat was largely given a free pass by critics who seem to think that because Who is a sci-fi show, it doesn’t have to make too much sense. This would perhaps not be so noticeable if RTD hadn’t managed to pull all this off reasonably well very recently. The characters need to be at the core of the show, not a ‘Lost’-esque series of questions which causes the characters to act in ways which defy all sense in order to accommodate them. In ‘The Snowmen’ it became clear that Clara was there almost entirely to set up another arc. The story was absurdly flimsy with a resolution which even the most ardent RTD ‘deus ex machina’ apologist would have found lazy. A big name like Richard E Grant had almost nothing to do. It was telling that the only fleshed out characters (beyond Clara and the Doctor) were a trio returning to the show for no apparent reason other than to provide emotional hooks for regular viewers without requiring much effort. Clara spent the final 20 minutes of the episode being entirely unconnected and irrelevant to the ‘main story’ but rather setting up the ‘mystery’ which will presumably drive Season 7b. It made my heart sink. For all Moffat’s distaste for certain breeds of internet dweller (I’ve no doubt he would think I am a twat) much of his Who tenure relies on ardent fans going off and filling in plot holes on forums. It’s already been pointed out by quite a few folk that Clara’s date of birth was the same as the original air-date for ‘Doctor Who’. Her surname was Oswald, recalling the man whose assassination of President Kennedy took place the day before this and so overshadowed Who. She was 26 when she died and Who was 26 years old when it was originally cancelled. You could even go further and say that she has now died twice and Who was cancelled, then brought back in the tv movie, then gone again. Perhaps these are all little points for nutty fans to pick up which will turn out to be inconsequential but given the show’s upcoming 50th anniversary, it’s easy to see them being important. It’s easy to see them being so important that they largely become the point of Season 7b.
  • So, Clara. She’s likeable! She’s funny and intelligent and sassy and bold. She’s…Amy Pond! When she did her duel accent thing it recalled adult Amy’s first encounter with The Doctor and caused me to imagine Karen Gillan playing Clara. I quickly decided that there was no discernible difference between the characters. The first thought arising from this is that the funny and intelligent and sassy and bold female companion is done. RTD made no secret of the influence of ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’ on his Who reboot and this pretty much explains Rose. The template has barely changed in the 7 years since, with even Rory being decisively second-fiddle. The second thought is to notice that sexual tension between Clara and The Doctor was quickly established, just as it was with Rose, Martha and Amy. The only companion for whom this hasn’t been a major issue has been Donna who, not coincidentally, has been the only one who wasn’t under 30 and stereotypically ‘beautiful’. Nice!
  • This leads nicely into Moffat’s much-discussed inability to write decent women characters. He really, really can’t. It’s beyond parody now. I won’t expand on this much as there’s already a lot out there, but someone should take him to the side and tell him that making women sexually-forward and maybe even GAY (but mibbe just actually a bit bisexual!) isn’t being brave or liberal – it’s being embarrassing and condescending. This really painful “I’m really right-on, me” strand is actually much wider in his writing than just the main female characters. It’s typical of a dominant strand of liberalism which goes something like ‘oooh, he mentions gays and I like gays – SCREAM!’ Last year’s ode to women-as-mothers was woeful in terms of the clear gap between Moffat’s belief that he was writing something rather admirable and what actually ended up on screen.

Who still has moments of brilliance and I’ll keep watching for a while yet. ‘The Snowmen’ was, however, a foreboding large hint that more of the past two years is coming. If that’s the case I can’t see myself lasting. No big deal, of course, nothing anyone should care about. But it’ll definitely make me sad. I certainly approach things critically (I think everyone should) which can come across as overly negative but I have so many lovely memories associated with this show. I just want it to be great again!

Doctor Who: Unanswered Questions Part 2

So after this, a few thoughts on the finale:

  • As plans go, ‘we’ll steal the Doctor’s companion’s baby, raise her to be a Doctor-hating killing machine, have her track down the Doctor and poison him but then realise she loves him and save him, then track her down years later, put her in a big spacesuit and force her to kill him against her will’ isn’t exactly up there with the Great Train Robbery. If she had to be forced, what was the point? What was the deal with the spacesuit anyway? What was ‘impossible’ about the astronaut? Why such a convoluted plan to kill the Doctor? And what was the deal with them kidnapping Amy? How? When? How did they even know she was pregnant when no-one else did?
  • What was the deal with the orphanage and the photos of Amy and Melody? 
  • What on earth was all of that business about the Doctor having 29 (or however long it was) minutes to live when he was poisoned, and re-appearing in a top hat and tails?
  • The Blue Head man knowing all about this plan and not mentioning it – ‘it was a busy day’ doesn’t really cut it. For that matter, River knowing *all* of this and not mentioning anything at any point, even when loads of people are dying?! And she scanned the Doctor after he was killed, didn’t she, and it seemed to be emphasised that she wouldn’t remember killing the Doctor. There was also the odd business where Canton emphasised that ‘that was most certainly the Doctor and he most certainly is dead.’ Moffat also said that – fair enough, he’d lie, but the entire marketing of the show’s launch was about the death and how it was a REAL NO GIMMICKS THIS CHARACTER IS DEFINITELY DEAD death. Clearly the Doctor wasn’t going to end but…ta da, it’s a spaceship Doctor! Really? REALLY?! He even started to regenerate and was killed again. They left the regeneration out of the finale, as if in acknowledgement that they’d just made it up as they went along.
  • And all of the business about it being a fixed point in time. Okay, we’ll accept that at face value and not question it. But it’s fixed by replacing the Doctor with a spaceship, when we’ve been told repeatedly that the Doctor has to die? And why does a SPACESHIP Doctor touching River fix everything? And why does spaceship Doctor marry River?
  • The Silence want the Doctor dead. Fair enough. But if his death is a fixed point in time, why did they (or whomever is behind them) bother trying to blow up the TARDIS last year? And why were they trying to destroy the entire universe last year?!
  • Rory dying all of the time is explained by him nearly dying in an alternate timeline which never happened? Eh?
  • And another reset finale? Didn’t RTF get royally crucified for those? But in his case, at least you vaguely cared about what was going on.
  • After all of the setting up of Madam Kovarian, she ultimately seemed rather pointless.

I know that Moffat is playing a ‘long game’ and (hopefully) it’s all building to something which we will be expected to go ‘OMGZ!’ at. But the internal logic of each season is all over the place and plot lines are riddled with holes and idiocy. Even a trio of pretty decent ‘standalone’ episodes in this season were ridiculously undermined by the ‘stolen Melody’ plot hanging over everything. The thought of this going on for another 2 years (assuming this is building up to the 50th anniversary) fills me with dread.

Doctor Who: Unanswered Questions

So with two episodes left of this season, we are still waiting to find out:

  • Who said ‘Silence will fall’ as the TARDIS was blowing up and trapped River inside it. Or indeed took River back to Amy Pond’s house.
  • What the deal with the Silence is anyway and why they’ve been mentioned since Prisoner Zero.
  • Why River was at Amy/Rory’s wedding.
  • For that matter, I still don’t get why Amy ‘remembering’ the Doctor brought him back from non-existence, but I imagine that’s something we’re just supposed to take at face value.
  • Who was trying to make a TARDIS in ‘The Lodger’.
  • Who the burn marks outside Amy Pond’s house belonged to.
  • All the business about the duck pond and Amy not remembering the Daleks etc. Unless we’re meant to just think they disappeared through cracks.
  • Why there was a future version of Amy and Rory standing on a hill in ‘The Hungry Earth.’
  • What the extra floor in Amy’s house is all about.
  • Who River is in jail for killing and who puts her there.
  • Why Rory keeps dying/almost dying.
  • What the deal with Amy is, how and why the ‘villain’ used her, the significance of her ‘waiting’ etc etc etc.
  • Why Rory and Amy haven’t once mentioned their daughter since ‘LKH’.
  • Who eyepatch lady is and who she’s working for.
  • What happened to ganger Doctor.
  • Why the Doctor sent out those invitations to his own death and why Canton got one.
  • Who is in the astronaut suit and what the deal with the suit is in the first place.
  • Why the Doctor has never let on that he knows he’s due to die and knows that Rory, River and Amy know.
  • Who River Song is to the Doctor.
  • The whole ‘this Doctor is 200 years in the future’ thing.
  • Given River thought David Tennant Doctor knew her, has she hung/does she hang around with loads of Doctors or just Matt Smith?


Quite interesting reading this halfway through Season 6, which has thrown up even more questions.

I don’t think they ever explained why ‘future’ Amy and Rory are waving on a hill at the start of ‘The Hungry Earth’. Or why Amy didn’t remember the Daleks. Or the business w Rory’s ID card i nthe opening episode. Or the ‘DOCTOR IN THE TARDIS DOESN’T KNOW’. Or the extra floor in Amy’s house. And no doubt more that I’m forgetting.

If Moffatt ties everything together in the final 5 episodes, I will be MIGHTY impressed.

The questions that Doctor Who series 5 left behind