Another Reason To Love Christopher Lee

He's Dracula. He's Count Dooku. He's Saruman. He's been a Bond villain, and a cowboy, and mad scientists and the voice of the Jabberwocky.

Now, ladies and gentlemen, I give you a fabulous Rock'n'Roll song, sung by the man himself, from the film 'Captain Invincible'. Can't you just tell the music's by Richard O'Brien? The perfect song for a beautiful Spring day! Now, what's your poison?

Everything I Learned In Life, I Got From Doctor Who

#2 Tea is the Best

The Doctor likes a bit of coffee, oh yes. Patrick Troughton's Doctor was always after a cup, and Jon Pertwee wouldn't have managed all that tinkering in his lab without some pure, strong caffeine to keep him going!

But seriously though, tea is much more vital, much more important. Not just because it's beautiful, but also because it is responsible for the safety of our Universe. Fact. Was it coffee that brought the Tenth Doctor back to consciousness in 'The Christmas Invasion'? Did a spillage of Nescafe's finest bring him to his senses? Nope. It was tea. Tea from a flask, brewed by a single mother on a council estate in London. Without her brew, the Doctor would have remained in the land of nod while half the population jumped from the rooftops to their doom.

And it's the one thing that can cheer the good old Doctor up. In 'Genesis of the Daleks', he and Harry are captured by the Kaleds, and the Doctor asks for some tea. Denied, he mutters somberly to his companion: “No tea Harry...”. There is one unimpressed Time Lord, and from that moment on, the fate of the Kaleds is sealed.

So, there you have it. Tea. The saviour of the Universe, favourite drink of our favourite Time Lord, and an all round tasty brew. I can be safe in the knowledge that if the Doctor should whisk me away, I'll know that somewhere aboard the TARDIS, there's a kettle. Life without tea, for me, would be no life at all...

By way of a conclusion, I'll leave you with this gorgeous moment from 'The Awakening', which sums up the beauty of 'Doctor Who' and tea at the same time:

Will: What be tea?

The Doctor: Oh, a noxious infusion of Oriental leaves containing a high percentage of toxic acid.

Will: Sounds an evil brew, don't it?

The Doctor: True. Personally, I rather like it.

('Doctor Who' – The Awakening, Eric Pringle)

And for more information on tea, and it's unique relationship with 'Doctor Who', you can go here: http://tardis.wikia.com/wiki/Tea. 

 

Everything I Learned In Life, I Got From Doctor Who

#1 Talk to Strangers

No kiddies, I'm not talking about the man in the moth-eaten trench coat, who wants you to go back to his house so he can give you sweets. I'm talking fun strangers, unusual strangers, people who you can learn from!

 

 

I have all sorts of issues, especially when it comes to being confident and speaking to people. But every so often, somebody just sort of turns up at an unexpected moment, and they captivate you with stories and adventures, and you realise that you aren't alone in this big old world. There are others that get you.

 

 

A few weeks ago, for instance, me and my cousin went out for a few drinks, and met a wonderful, well-spoken chap (who can be followed on Twitter here: @mister_meredith) who just so happened to share many of our interests. He had even met several (read: lots!) of major 'Doctor Who' personalities. He's also a top-rate caberet performer, and unafraid to speak his mind!

 

 

And there's Twitter. Out of my 800-odd followers, I know about 5 people in 'the real world' (including my partner in geekiness, the incomparable @Sonic_Bionic). The rest are quite literally strangers, who sprang out of nowhere on this social networking site, and became friends extremely quickly. Fascinating people from all over the world, who have the same loves and hates, and who have seen things I can only dream of. They know who they are (many can be traced by visiting the list of websites on the left-hand side of the page), and they have given me a great deal of pleasure. 

 

So, when a chap turns out of the blue telling you he once knew Sir Isaac Newton, don't run away in terror. Listen to him - you might just wander into a whole new world...

Scarred But Still Standing - A Poem

"Scarred But Still Standing" has pretty much become a motto for me. It's a way of saying, "Yes, I've suffered, but I'm still here. I haven't given up. I'm still alive, against all odds!".

Twisting, writhing rage

Burns like acid through it's veins,

And a stabbing agony in it's heart,

Gets worse each passing day.

Ev'ry insult taken,

Stings deep down inside.

Ev'ry kick or punch,

Brings bitter tears to its' eyes.

Born in cold October,

Destroyed, age 13 onwards.

Reborn five years later,
As a heartless, damaged monster.

Black becomes it's symbol,

'Evil' – an adopted name.

Never forgetting those who caused

Such thoughtless, searing pain.

But Time has healed much,

A new Era can begin.

I can smile once again:

“Scarred, but still standing.”

© Copyright Cory Eadson, 2012

Dark Things 1 - A Poem

Just a little work-in-progress...Let me know what you think. Always after critique!

Dark Things 1

Lying on a bed of black roses,

Arms crossed,

And pennies over my eyes,

I wait.

Wait for the pumpkin sun

To fade behind the skull moon.

Shadows grow longer

(Like the ones inside my mind)

And stretch to nothing -

Swallowed, eventually,

By the impenetrable darkness.

The Darkness, my one true friend -

Hiding, in that fathomless black,

All manner of secrets,

All manner of Things.

Things that creep around my bed,

Lurk in my closet,

Writhe in the furthest recesses of my mind...

Maybe They know

That we are the same.

Maybe They sense

That I am unafraid.

An abrupt stinging pain in my heart

Suddenly grows more fierce -

Like a talon squeezing

All the life out of me,

And In my agony, I am forced to wonder:

Do They want me to join them?

 ©
Copyright: Cory Eadson, 2012

How I Became a Doctor Who Fan: An Autobiographical Account of a Huge Obsession, Part 1

I was shrouded in darkness. The closed blinds forbade any form of natural light to creep into the room, preserving the atmosphere which I found so important: that of excitement, intrigue, and mystery. My hands graced the silky soft quilt I was perched upon, a fabric of pure perfection that assured maximum comfort on the sprawling double-bed.

 

 Listening intently for a moment through the yellowed wall (discoloured from the endless late-night cigarettes Grandma smoked), I could faintly hear the living room television. Yes, Grandmother was out of the way. I had her wonderful bedroom to myself. It was my domain now.

        

 I glanced around in awe at the clutter on top of the wardrobes; the drawers which were so crammed full of interesting junk they couldn't close properly; the cupboards crammed with ancient ornaments and fob watches. I knew that most of the stuff was useless, tit and tat purchased by Granddad on endless visits to those car boot sales he loved so much. But I often wondered where all those items originally came from, what secrets lurked behind each and every one of them (and, perhaps the biggest mystery of all, what Granddad had actually wanted them for in the first place!).

        

 One of my hands wandered towards a tall cup on the bedside table, filled to the brim with Grandma's own special brew of strong, sweet tea. As I sipped and sipped and eventually gulped, like an alcoholic draining his first beer of the day, I allowed the boiling hot liquid to ease its' way down my throat (and could still feel it as it swirled down towards my stomach, refusing to die away) – an unrelenting mix of fire and sugar which seemed to fulfil something more than just a mere quenching of the thirst, as if I were experiencing a sixth sense above and beyond that of taste. In a matter of seconds, the cup was empty, and I replaced it on the plastic mat, directly on the tea-stained ring at its' centre. The cup's own little throne.

         

 It was after this satisfying burst of nourishment that I decided to divert my attention toward the reason I was in Grandma's darkened room in the first place. Perched awkwardly at the end of the bed was a collection of videos, in a tidy little box-set, that an Uncle had leant me earlier in the day. He obviously (wrongly) assumed I was into science fiction, as the tapes were all from an old show called 'Doctor Who'. I'd heard of it, of course. Everybody knew the hilarious 'knock, knock...' joke, for instance. But sci-fi just wasn't my thing. I was a child of horror, it had always been the way. Of course, polite as ever, I'd taken the videos from my Uncle with a smile and a “Thanks, Uncle Peter, can't wait to watch 'em!”, and Grandma had allowed me to watch them alone in her bedroom.

“Just shout if you want another cuppa!” she'd called shortly after making me my eighth cup of tea within the last hour.

         

And so here I was. I assumed it would be a case of watching one episode, pretending I'd viewed them all (so as not to offend my Uncle), and then go out into the sunshine to play. Taking the first video of the set, titled 'Genesis of the Daleks', out of its' case, I shoved it into the huge mechanical monster that was Grandma's VCR player, which devoured the tape hungrily and noisily. I then switched on the equally enormous square television, before folding back onto the bed to watch, I expected, just one single episode. In just a matter of seconds, unbeknownst to me, the seeds of a colossal, almost insane, obsession, were to be sown.

I could not have been more unprepared for the experience I was about to endure... 

 

Copyright: Cory Eadson, 2012

50 Reasons Why 'Time Crash' Is The Most Perfect 8 Minutes of 'Doctor Who' Ever

#4 David Tennant IS the Doctor! Tennant is clearly having a blast in this mini-story, especially considering Peter Davison was his childhood Doctor. The speech at the very end, which the Tenth Doctor delivers to the Fifth, was said to have been a direct tribute from Tennant to Peter Davison, only just staying on the right side of the Fourth wall!