Better Than Monkeys!

One of the many things that winds both me and Work Buddy up is science fiction that blithely disregards the science part. Obviously a few liberties have to be made in the name of dramatic licence but really, there’s no excuse.

So when people announce their undying love for the horrendous hackery from the 1970s through to the present TV SF dramas that simply don’t give a fig, our reactions range from twitching muscles under the eyes for the odd transgressions to full blown rage descending upon the worst offenders. These are the ones who, for undramatic, dramatic purposes, settle on having their characters suffer from “space sickness”. Or “space idiocy”. Or from being a complete “space cock”!

Somehow, from out of all this, came the idea of space monkeys! Magic, eh? The more utterly stoopid the show, the more space monkeys it obviously needed to fly in and fuck things around.

Which brings me to the series of Doctor Who, which starts next weekend. I assume it’s being heavily trailed on the BBC right about now but somehow I’ve managed to miss them. The only way I found out was in The Sunday Times’ Culture section where it was chosen as the television Pick of the Week, explaining:

‘He has to go to the moon and back, outrun “space rhinos” (scaley, sweaty and no social skills) and vaporise a “slab” (a motorcycle-courier lookalike that is leather all the way through), but the Doctor (David Tennant) finds his new sidekick...’

Hang on, back up a bit. Space rhinos..? Space rhinos?

We’ll have to set out sights higher from now on.

One show that we can’t find fault with is Battlestar Galactica, which concentrates on drama first, genre second.


Yesterday, at the party, I had to break the news to Work Buddy that the Sci Fi Channel had withdrawn it’s order for a further 13 episodes, following the third season which comes to an end tonight. [dramatic pause] Instead it has renewed the show for a full fourth season, commissioning 22 hour-long episodes.

Huzzah! Trebles all round!