Let me just start this post by saying that 1) I’m aware that Dr. Who isn’t a video game, which this blog is about, and 2) that I love Dr. Who, I love it so much that there are noises I’ve made whilst watching it that can only be matched by noises small, excited dogs make. I’ve watched older Dr. Who episodes, I’ve watched all of the “new” series, I… I love it. I’ve got a papercraft sonic screwdriver and psychic wallet that I bought at a Powell’s Books in Portland, OR. I just finished my character for the Dr. Who: Adventures in Time and Space table-top RPG that I bought my boyfriend for his birthday… so that he could run the game for me. I cried when he had to leave Rose. I cried the day after I watched that episode, when someone mentioned it. I’ve had Master-themed nightmares. I’m a Whooligan! Yes, I know, I have a damn problem!
But I don’t care about all that, because I like the show and it plays heavily on my need to see mysteries in space and time! Which is basically the over-arching theme of all my greatest dreams. But there is something that Dr. Who fails to do for me, and that is make me a happy feminist.
No, it’s not as terrible as some shows. And it certainly has gotten better. My friend recently took on the epic task of watching through all of the old series that she could get her hands on, and was [righteously] bemoaning how often they shake women for crying and how often those women cry at the sight of, like, a Dalek. [Seriously, who the fuck was scared of Daleks before they could get up stairs? One was defeated by a doggamn coat, for fuck's sake.] Yes, the old show was a 1940′s “I’m-a-slap-you-’cause-bitches-be-hysterical” film compared to the newest Dr. Who episodes.
But if there is one thing I’ve learned whilst being a feminist and a woman, it’s that you should never be satisfied. Never, ever, ever, ever; why? Because there is going to be a generation after mine that will still feel oppressed, and rightly so, when the only heroines they have to admire are trying to fuck the good Doctor behind bushes on their wedding day [okay, so snog, make-out, whatever; point is, fuck you Amelia Pond.]
Every female he picks up on his crew wants to jump his doggamn bones except for Donna, and Donna was still posed as a crazy man-chaser, because, well, she couldn’t be sane and useful, now could she? The boys always get to redeem themselves; like Mickey, who was left by Rose for the Doctor and ended up with Martha and a badass attitude. Doggamn… Martha, she fucking rocked. But she still was in love with the Doctor!
My point is this: can we please have a female Doctor? It’s possible, the new Doctor implied it was when he was terrified of his long hair [FOR FUCK'S SAKE]. Or, hey, maybe just a companion who isn’t interested in relationships at all, just awesome time-and-space-traveling shenanigans?
Oh, and btw, the writers need to stop acting like the new Doctor is anything but weird-looking. Sure, weird-looking is attractive–even hot–but don’t shove it down my throat like I’m supposed to just accept it. Fuckers.
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