What can be more dorky than a forty-something fanboy "introducing" himself with a bitter tirade about the latest Doctor Who? If this isn't in fact appropriate, please feel free to delete; nothing but physical violence against my loved ones could make me any more bitter than I already am.)
Jesus Christ in an ambulance, did Russell T Davies have a stroke between co-writing The Waters of Mars and Christmas Day's utter travesty of craftsmanship, or did Phil Ford just cover for him?
Whatever happened, and whatever happens on New Year's Day, if there was ever any doubt that Davies has bad days to go along with his good ones, part one of his grand Doctor Who finale, The End of Time was not just the worst episode in Davies' five year run as the Boss of Who, it was one of the worst pieces of television craft I've come across since an sub-par episode of the original Battlestar Galactica. (No link. Just google it, people!)
Long, un-edited, straight-from-the-bitter-Id, rant — with spoilers galore behind the fake cut at my own journal. If you're not interested, or don't what to be spoiled about the plot twists in this remarkably inept instalment of this venerable series, just scroll on down to the next item on your friends' page. The rest of you, click away.