Back To Who’s Future?

Am I the only person who has Dr. Who End of Time on a TiVo or DVR? Okay, then…am I the only person who has watched these episodes more than once or twice…three times?
I am feeling just wretched knowing that our dear Doctor suffered in those last moments, trying to hang on and not come back a different man. To tell you the truth, there was a moment in there when I thought perhaps they’d been fooling us all along, and there wasn’t going to be a change.
Did anyone else have that futile hope?
What is it about Tennant’s Doctor that affected us so? I can’t say I blame him for wanting to move on, because with “nutters” like me (and maybe you) identifying him so intensely with the character, he most certainly needs another job.
Dr. Who, I have decided, is all of us. He is out there doing what we would love to do, having experiences we dream about and never step into. He is our yin and yang all tied up in a package full of intrigue, genius and never ending energy.
Except for those last moments when he lost it all to a creation not of his own doing, or choosing. Like us, in our mortal and fragile form, he had to yield to the inevitable: death.
I believe that our response to this most disturbing of regeneration episodes has affected us, not only because of our affection and respect for the actor who has portrayed the Doctor, but because of our identification with him. We have lost some of ourselves in the process, and must also face life’s uncontrollable elements now, no longer above the battle but within it.  Whatever fantasy propelled us along lost a bit of it’s magic when he said those words: “I don’t want to go”.  Powerless. Hopeless. He didn’t have a choice. So much of the time, neither do we.  Seeing into the future didn’t help him, it terrorized him.  His dread was palpable. Should we then be thankful for our inability to see the future? That’s the key, isn’t it? He had to dread that event for so long, and still walk into it.  He didn’t get to choose.
Is this too much analyzation? I’m not sure. I just know I haven’t cried like this over a television show since Brian’s Song, back in the 70’s.  After that show ended, I went in the bathroom and wept. I was probably still emotional about it the next day as I headed for school. It was grief over the reality of uncontrollable events. Life became art.                                                      

 That’s how this whole Dr. Who and his last days (as DT) has struck me.  There’s more to this than just a science fiction tale.  This is art illuminating life.  It’s more than it appears to be on the surface.  I suppose that is owed to Russell T Davies, who might, I suspect, think I’ve gone a little too far.  Then again, he might have written it to generate questions as well as entertain.

Well, I tend to get on things and stay until it’s all straightened out or I exhaust myself with too many scenarios to sort through.  So, I’ll ask the same question that I started with:

How many times will you be watching Dr. Who- End of Time?

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