Slightly Unorthodox

I don’t find our relative insignificance disheartening at all: The main thing it tells me is that in a culture that worships celebrity and the purportedly extraordinary, ALL people are ordinary people. ALL people have the same responsibilities to themselves and to each other. Maybe the universe cares nothing for us, but WE care about each other. And most encouragingly, we care not just for our friends or family but for the whole enterprise of life—we care about strangers and about humpback whales and, most beautifully of all, we care about the dead. We try with our lives to honor theirs. That’s how we make our lives meaningful, and how we make their lives meaningful, too.

Life is about doing things that don’t suck with people who don’t suck.

Terrifying Fact Number Two, is that I’ve just watched Matt Smith carrying a flaming torch on screen. Oh, it’s for such a thrilling scene in Episode 12. Really and truly, magnificent and epic. A proper movie moment. But never mind that, it’s Matt carrying a FLAMING TORCH. Look, Matt’s lovely, he’s a magnificent, brand new, hilarious, heartbreaking, heroic Doctor — but the fact is, if that man walks into a room with a coffee then it’s only so long before you’re wearing it. No, really, clumsiest man on earth. He walks like he’s in a constant state of surprise at his own limbs. I remember when he turned up at a Worldwide meeting really early on, and the first thing he did was spill a cup of coffee over a rather lovely woman. Naturally she giggled, flushed and introduced her mother. (Ahh, life when you’re Matt ! I accidentally made eye contact with the same woman — she phoned the police and shot me in the face.) On the way out he apologised to a completely different woman for the coffee incident. “That was the wrong woman,” I said, as he went out the doors. “Nope,” he replied, “That was the second cup.”

Oh, and there was the top secret, very special, extra readthrough for Episode 10 (I’m talking that up, but what the hell) and Matt came striding in with a GUITAR ON HIS BACK. I have honestly never seen a whole roomful of people flatten themselves against a wall with such a high-pitched squeal of terror. Except Karen, of course, who trotted along behind him without a care in the world. Oh, the horror as the Doctor spun and chatted and coffeed a series of delighted women. How that guitar arced and scythed! Swish! Get down, Karen! Swish! Karen, save yourself! Swish! Not her face, Matt, NOT HER FACE!! Ah, the memories. You know, to this day I’m not sure if Matt knew he had a guitar on his back — he might just have collided with a musician.