Ask JKM a Question: You (Season Two)

A reader, Chuck, writes:

"I know you have been busy and, frankly, I was not sure if you still have time for “Ask JKM a Question” feature on your blog (I know it has been a while). But my wife and I just finished binge-watching both seasons of the series You on Netflix and, for the first time in a long time, I felt inspired to send you a question because I was so curious as to what your thoughts on this series might be. 

And, if I am being honest, the main reason I thought of you is because season 2 of You reminded me so much of an old episode of The X-Files, "Terms of Endearment." It seems like a weird comparison to make, but I guess everything in life can be distilled down to at least one X-Files episode if you try hard enough. 

Anyway, I enjoyed season 1 of You but felt that season 2 was far superior. This is due, in no small part, to the outstanding performances of actors Penn Badgley and Victoria Pedretti. If you ever do get a chance to watch the series (I know it can be time consuming with ten episodes each season), I would love to know your thoughts.

Thanks as Always (and Happy New Year!)"

Happy New Year to you, Chuck, and thank you for the question.  I am still happy to answer "Ask JKM" questions, and was happy to see yours.  Any readers who have questions are welcome to pose them, and I will respond as soon as I can.

I do apologize for having to step away from the blog more than I would have liked, in the last 12 months.  I am hoping to return to it on a fuller basis, when it is feasible.

Before I answer any questions about the series You, I should probably post a "SPOILER ALERT" here.  

Don't read on, fair readers, if you have not seen the entirety of the second season.

Still here?

Okay.

I have seen both seasons of You (2018 - ) and the answer is that I think that is a terrific, well-made series. The first season had a fantastic New York vibe, and I was worried, honestly, when I heard the second season would be moved to Los Angeles. I worried that everything that made the series so appealing to me would be gone in the second season, especially given the fate of Beck, a character I adored.

Boy, was I wrong. 

Instead of repeating the same formula, You absolutely re-invented itself via its Los Angeles location, and ended up as an edgy, wicked, and absolutely on-point commentary about Hollywood, Me Too, Woke Culture, Self-Help, dieting, and more. I agree with your assertion that Season Two was actually stronger than (the superb) season one, and I do credit that success to the writing and acting, but also to the location change that I had fretted about.  The switch to L.A. infused the series with new energy, and deepened the discourse in a way I wouldn't have imagined possible.  This year, Joe entered a city where everyone was as dangerous, obsessed, and, really, narcissistic as he was.  Compared to some of the people he encounters in Season Two, he seems like an amateur in terms of stalking and obsession, in fact.

Your comparison to "Terms of Endearment," a sixth season episode of The X-Files (1993 - 2002) is apt, and very insightful.  For those who don't recall it, that episode stars Bruce Campbell as a husband and father-to-be named Wayne.  His secret, of course, is that he is, literally a monster.  Specifically, he's a demon.  But as the episode reveals at its climax, he is not the only monster in his relationship.   

The second season of You could be interpreted as a non-supernatural variation on the same story.  Joe/Will is a monster of the human variety, a psychopath, I would guess, and he enters a relationship with Love Quinn,  a woman whom he puts up on a pedestal as this pure icon of beauty, a kind of feminine ideal.  If you've watched the second season, you know that Joe gets quite the surprise, come end the of the ten episode catalog.  It is an ending that very much mirrors the idea of "Terms of Endearment."  So that connection is there, even if the supernatural element has been replaced with human psychology. 

What is so fascinating to me, about this paradigm, however, is what it tells us about Joe. In both seasons of the series, he falls in love, honestly, with the idea of love. He becomes infatuated and obsessed with a woman, and with his ideas of who she is.  When she is not who he believes she is, Joe becomes dangerous, even murderous.  The second season reckons with this idea, that men in general (and Joe in particular) fall in love with illusions that they have made themselves, not the actual woman who is the object of their affection.  Joe grows -- maybe -- at the end of the season, by realizing that he has not really "seen" Quinn, and instead of murdering her when he does really see her...he settles down with her.

I don't know if this notion of Joe and Quinn in domestic bliss will work in terms of Season 3, but again, I applaud the creators and writers on the series for ambitiously moving beyond a formula that would quickly become stagnant: Joe falls in love, acts obsessively and dangerously, commits murder, and has to run to a new city.  Rinse and repeat.  The last episode of Season Two promises that Season Three will be a whole new ball game, and that's good.

I think you are correct, too, Chuck, to credit Penn Badgley, who plays Joe/Will, with much of the series' success.  He is the anchor for everything, and is compelling, and strangely sympathetic. Much of the second season involves Joe going head to head with a nemesis, Candace. By all rights, our sympathy should be completely with her. He nearly killed her. And yet, our sympathies are not with her.  We want to see Joe succeed, despite the fact that he has committed horrible acts, and that she is right about everything (as even he comes to admit, near season's end).  This is kind of fucked up, and actually serves on a commentary regarding how women are viewed in our culture. 

Yet if we did not, at some level, love Joe, You simply would not work, and would also likely face accusations in the press that it is misogynist, and that it encourages sympathy with the devil.  But Penn Badgley's performances are sympathetic, even if the character he plays is an awful human being.  And we are capable of experiencing nuance in terms of our understanding of Joe. He is a monster, but he is also a human being. Season Two brings in flashbacks to his childhood, for instance, so we get a better understanding of how he became who he is.  

Another reason we love Joe: He sees everybody for all their bullshit.  What I like about Season Two is that his eyes are finally opened, indeed, to his own bullshit.  In Season Three, I assume we will learn whether Joe grows in that regards or backslides.

So You is absolutely a new favorite in my house, and it's going to be a long wait until the next batch of episodes in 2021.

Readers: You can e-mail me questions at Muirbusiness@yahoo.com, if you like!

Ask JKM a Question: Will I Be Reviewing The New X-Files Season?

Several readers, on Twitter, and via e-mail, have asked me a variation of the same question:

"Are you going to write reviews of Season 11 of The X-Files?"

Well, the short answer is yes. 

But the longer answer is: please be patient. I just started a new position at my community college, as department chair for Humanities and Social Sciences, and my time is at a premium, as I learn the ropes.

I watched (and loved) "My Struggle 3." Now I just need to find time to put my thoughts down in a coherent review. I have every confidence I will get to it soon, so hold tight!

And don't forget to ask me your questions at Muirbusiness@yahoo.com

Ask JKM a Question: Halloween Plans?

A regular reader, Frank, writes:

"What's on tap for you this Halloween? Anything special planned?"

Thanks for the question, Frank! 

Well, here on the blog, if that's what you are talking about, I will be devoting the week before Halloween (October 23 to October 27) to a "Thing-a-Thon:" a retrospective of different versions of The Thing story, from the literary ("Who Goes There?" and "Things") to the cinematic editions of 1951, 1982, and 2011. 

I'll also be looking back at Thing video games, and Dark Horse Comics Editions. 

And if I have time, I hope to get to TV shows/episodes which were also inspired by Campbell's "Who Goes There?" (DS9: "The Adversary," for example).

Additionally, if there are fans in the Charlotte/Monroe N.C. area, I'll be introducing the greatest found footage horror movie of all time -- The Blair Witch Project (1999) -- and leading a critical-thinking discussion about the film, at the Central Piedmont Community College film club on Thursday, October 26, 2017, at the Levine Campus, from 6:00 - 9:00 pm.  I'd love to see some readers in the audience.

Beyond that, I'm very much looking forward to trick-or-treating with my son Joel and my wife, Kathryn, on the 31st. Last year Joel was suited up in an inflatable Godzilla costume. I'm curious to see what character he wants to go out as for 2017.

Don't forget to ask me your questions at: Muirbusiness@yahoo.com

Ask JKM a Question: Ranking the Star Trek Pilots Now?

A reader named David writes:

“Now that Star Trek: Discovery (2017) has premiered, how do you rank the pilot, “The Vulcan Hello” with other Trek pilots of yore?”

David: That is a great question.  

I’m going to take it to mean that you are asking me to rate all the Star Trek pilots, in light of Discovery's premiere.  (Where does the new pilot fit, in other words, historically-speaking).

So, here goes. 

Below you will find my ranking of least successful to most successful Star Trek pilots.

6. “Broken Bow” (Star Trek: Enterprise)

My least favorite Star Trek series opens, appropriately, with my least favorite pilot. 

It is funny that Discovery has revived all these discussions of Star Trek’s past looking too “advanced” to be pre-Original Series, because certainly, Enterprise lives up to that description. The series is set a hundred years before the era of Kirk. Yet the silver and grays of NX-01 look more TNG era than TOS era, and also manage to be uninspiring environs for the action. 

In addition, “Broken Bow” panders to audiences by trying too hard to be sexy and edgy (de-contamination rub-downs!), and by boasting some unnecessary connection to the TNG future (Temporal Cold War from the future!). 

Meanwhile, the pilot episode singularly fails to make the (mostly human) crew of Enterprise seem particularly interesting. 

Ensign Mayweather? 

Hoshi? 

These are some of the dullest, most forgettable characters in the whole franchise, and “Broken Bow” doesn’t help to establish them in a memorable way. That said, it’s good to see Zefram Cochrane again, especially when the rest of the storytelling here feels so creaky.

5. “Encounter at Farpoint” (Star Trek: The Next Generation)

There are a lot of things I love about the pilot of TNG: a cameo by De Forest Kelley, for instance, and a point-of-view moment when Captain Picard (Patrick Stewart) implores Wesley (and by extension, the audience) to try out the captain’s chair.  

John de Lancie, of course, makes a huge impression as Q.

But the writing in "Encounter at Farpoint" fails the series’ captain, who is characterized as a children-hating, French surrender-monkey, at this point. 

Literally, Captain Picard surrenders the flagship of the Federation in the first five minutes of the show. (And then does so, again, three episodes later in “The Last Outpost.”)  But at least Stewart inhabits his role brilliantly from the vert beginning. Director Corey Allen also gives Picard a splendid introductory moment; stepping out from silhouette. 

Marina Sirtis, Denise Crosby, and Jonathan Frakes are all really weak in this episode, and would take some time to grow into their (now classic) roles.  Without much by way of good performances, the nature of the alien mystery at Farpoint station fails to truly be affecting.

I don’t hate this pilot. There’s a lot to like here, actually. It’s just that "Encounter at Farpoint" is less good, basically, than the other pilots are.

The amazing thing, I would submit, about "Encounter at Farpoint," is that the series' writers  eventually redeemed it. "All Good Things" returned to this story, and deepened it (with an encore appearance of Q as the 21st century judge).  

Also, virtually every ensuing Q episode was stronger than this one.  The series could have abandoned the omnipotent alien character after "Encounter at Farpoint," judging him part of a mediocre story.  

Instead, the series re-committed to "Q" and the concept of the humanity on trial.  

4. Tie: "Emissary” (Deep Space Nine) and “Caretaker” (Voyager)

Deep Space Nine and Voyager have weird, book-end or mirror pilots, essentially. 

“Emissary” opens in fascinating form with the Borg vs Starfleet battle at Wolf 359, but most of the central performances are either straight-up weird at this point (Avery Books), or stilted and diffident (Nana Visitor, Terry Farrell, Siddig El-Fadil).

Still, the unusual tale about the wormhole -- and aliens inside it who perceive time as non-linear -- is fascinating, and well-written. (In fact, Arrival [2016] followed in its footsteps decades later.  

Voyager’s "The Caretaker" is the mirror-image of "Emissary." 

I don’t find the story-line (of the Caretaker Array) particularly compelling, or cerebral, but the main cast here “gels” faster than in any Star Trek pilot that came before it. The Voyager actors, especially Kate Mulgrew, basically nailed their roles -- and character chemistry -- right out the gate, which is surprisingly given all the behind-the-scenes strife involving Genievieve Bujold. 

These pilots are both good, but I would be hard-pressed to pick one over the other.

3. The “Vulcan Hello” (Star Trek: Discovery)

Basically, “Encounter at Farpoint,” “Emissary,” “Caretaker” and “Broken Bow” are all the product of the same mind-set and company: the Star Trek franchise as run from between 1987-2005.  

Airing in 2017, Discovery, in a sense, is something truly new, and different. 

“The Vulcan Hello” doesn’t introduce all the series regulars, or even the titular starship during its 42 minute span. Instead, it takes a riveting scenario -- a dangerous encounter at the border of Federation space -- and stretches it out to episode (or two episode, length). 

This would be like the Wolf 359 sequence of “The Emissary” lasting 45 minutes.

This is an original and daring creative choice, and one that suggests Discovery’s serial storytelling is going to bring a fresh approach to the sturdy and long-lived franchise. 

 “The Vulcan Hello” introduces audiences to a “new” Star Trek era, but one that boasts a history and shape (take the “lateral” transporter on Shenzhou, for example...).  

Also, for the first time in Star Trek history, members of an alien race acting in opposition to Starfleet are treated as main characters (replete with flashbacks) rather than as interchangeable aliens of the week. This approach promises a deep dive into intercultural communication/relationships.

Make no mistake, Star Trek: Discovery is very different from the other pilots on this list, but different doesn’t have to equal “bad.” Some old-school Trekkers are are already making that mistake, instead of letting the series play out, at least for a few weeks, before assessing.

From what I've seen, “The Vulcan Hello” promises, perhaps, the most complex and cerebral interpretation of Star Trek we have yet encountered.  

2. “Where No Man Has Gone Before” (Star Trek)

The second pilot for the original Star Trek added William Shatner, fist-fights, and easy-to-digest moral statements ("absolute power corrupts absolutely!") to the mix, and brought a TV classic to the screen in the process. 

On its second go-round, the series got it right: balancing action, intellect,and strong characterization in an appealing, crowd-pleasing way. This is actually a very strong episode of the Original Series, depicting the Enterprise’s dangerous encounter with a strange barrier at the edge of the galaxy. 

Immediately, William Shatner makes Kirk a sensitive individual, and a leader of his crew. The episode also establishes Mr. Spock’s cold-blooded nature beautifully.  If Dr. McCoy had been present, this would have been, actually, the perfect Star Trek pilot. His absence here (as a crucial point on the heroic triangle) is keenly felt.

1. “The Cage” (Star Trek)

Okay, so it didn’t sell the series. On those grounds, it was a failure.

But “The Cage” is one of the all-time best episodes of the franchise, in any generation. It’s the story of a battle-weary Starfleet Captain (Jeffrey Hunter's Christopher Pike) who is tired of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He's so exhausted, he's ready to quit the service.

And just when it looks he could “escape” into dreams or fantasies, Pike comes back stronger: taking responsibility not just for himself and crew, but for the human race at large, in the galaxy, which could be enslaved by the people of Talos IV.

“The Cage” doesn’t bow to the “shouldn’t this be a cowboys in space show?” mentality underlining "Where No Man Has Gone Before."  This is a hard sci-fi hour, with no compromises for audience expectations of the day. "The Cage" is tough, smart, and well-acted, and still the best damned pilot in the franchise.

Ask JKM a Question: Where are the aliens in modern sci-fi TV?

A reader named Don writes:

“Hi, John:

The more I read your blog, the more I enjoy it! (And I think your views on casting for Princess Leia are spot-on.)

A question for consideration as part of your "Ask JKM" segment:

What happened to the aliens? 

My wife and I are fans of Killjoys and Dark Matter, but aside from the latter's android, the galaxy seems filled entirely with humans. The Battlestar Galactica reboot, too, had Cylons becoming human-like. It seems like the more advanced film-making gets in terms of technological advances, the less exotic these worlds are becoming. 

Star Trek--in all its previous series--was limited in how it could render its aliens (a lot of ridges in foreheads!), but at least there was variety of species. Farscape, too, was great about that. Why are current series losing this?”

Thank you for your question, Don, and I know you asked a second question too, which I will get to separately.

But first, I have to compliment you on the question. I liked some qualities of the Battlestar Galactica reboot but the thing I disliked most about it was the series’ overall lack of curiosity about the universe; the idea that there could be other life-forms out there, beyond Cylon (human-created, in the re-imagination) and human.  

Firefly (2002), which I liked better, also featured a universe without aliens.

I am happy that Discovery (2017) is coming soon, and looks to be honoring Star Trek’s legacy of creating incredible alien characters, but it has been disheartening, since 2001, to see so many TV series turning away from the possibility of alien life.

It is disappointing for two reasons.

First, this choice demonstrates a lack of imagination and curiosity, as I noted above. 

There’s almost no world exploration in the rebooted BSG, and that just seems -- to quote Contact (1997) -- a terrible waste of space. By contrast, the original Battlestar Galactica had no shortage of aliens beyond the Cylons (Ovions, Borellian Nomen, Boray, Eastern Alliance, etc.), so the new series didn't love up to the legacy of the original in at least one very significant way.

Secondly, what were the aliens replaced with on some of these new series?  

Well, I think in a misguided attempt to see more “real” to modern viewers, aliens were shunted into the background or forgotten, and the focus became soap opera foibles. 

You know, this character is a recovering alcoholic. This other character is sleeping with this person’s wife. This character isn’t talking to his father because he blames him for the death of his brother.

I think the writers and producers thought they were being dark and gritty, and realistic. Perhaps they thought they were freeing themselves from Star Trek’s limits on how characters could interact. 

They were actually porting As the World Turns into sci-fi TV, and the impact is still felt today.

What we have seen replace the aliens in these newer series is pure soap opera plotting. Again, more realistic, perhaps, but far less imaginative in terms of science fiction.  I understand that believable aliens are difficult to come up with, and expensive to create. But I would argue that it is worth the effort.

 Imagine if Star Trek had gone this route, and we had never gotten Mr. Spock.

One of the key functions of science fiction TV is to comment on the human condition. It is so much easier to do that, I think, from an outside or alien perspective. I see a lot of modern science fiction TV abandoning this approach, either because of budgetary constraints, concern about realism, or due to the aforementioned lack of curiosity about what life might look like on another planet.

I certainly hope Discovery brings about a new era of aliens on TV.

Thank you for the question! 

Don’t forget to ask me your questions at Muirzone@aol.com.  And while I’m at it, don’t forget to send me your top twenty Star Trek episode lists at the same e-mail address.

Ask JKM a Question: Are We in the Golden Age of TV?

A reader named Jason writes:

"Every so often someone will report how we live in a Golden Age of TV.  I can see where they're coming from: there are a multitude of series boasting superlative writing, acting, production design, et al. Series are allowed to spread an epic story over the course of a season or two in a grand work of fiction, and it's pretty rad.

And yet... maybe it's my imminent curmudgeon-hood, but I feel like the older series did it better.  

Older series like Land of the Lost or Star Trek or Space:1999 knew how to tell compelling, memorable stories in the space of 30 to 60 minutes (less with commercials!) that have stood the test of time.  

It's a little bit of an apples and oranges argument, but I put it to you: which do you think makes for a better series?  

Would you prefer one long epic story, or a seasons' worth of done-in-one adventures?"

Jason, that is a great question, and one of the defining ones, I believe, of pop culture studies in 2017. 

I, myself, have used the "Golden Age" description for modern TV. Why? In part because the TV landscape is one of plenty for fans. MST-3K is back. Twin Peaks is back. The X-Files is back. Star Trek is returning. Lost in Space is also returning.

Basically, the fact that we have moved into a fractured TV landscape, with niche programming, means that networks (or streaming sites like Netflix) don't need huge audiences to justify reviving a show, or keeping one on the air.  This approach has lead to the creation of remarkably ambitious and unusual programs, such as The O.A., Black Mirror, The Handmaid's Tale, and Stranger Things. 

Those are all positives for modern TV. Similarly, modern series such as Fear the Walking Dead survive on lower ratings, in this new era, than those achieved by hits (like The X-Files) in previous generations. That is also a positive. We have fewer genre shows canceled for low ratings.

On the other hand, would we want beloved series to return, if we didn't have a previous golden age? An age that gave us Star Trek, The Twilight Zone, The X-Files, and so on?  Those series have become the bedrock foundation of genre programming.

Perhaps, we have had two or three Golden Ages at this point. And we musn't forget that nostalgia plays a role in this perception, too.

Still, my answer is going to come at this problem sideways, you might say. I think our feelings of quality or a "Golden Age," may finally come down to how we ultimately engage with the drama.

I agree with you your perception of the new-age, circa 2010-2017, let's say. I love Game of Thrones, The Walking Dead, iZombie, Vikings and other modern programs that do all the things you enumerate. They are epic. They are well-written. Their production values are remarkable.  

And yet, frankly, after I finish watching them, I doubt I will return to them in any kind of meaningful way. 

And by contrast, I have returned to Star Trek, Space:1999, Land of the Lost, The Twilight Zone, The X-Files, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Millennium, The Outer Limits, One Step Beyond and other "older" series again and again, with fresh eyes, over the years, across the decades. 

Is it because these programs were better? Even without the option for serial storytelling (in some cases), or extravagant production values?

My theory is that the quality doesn't matter so much as the personal choice -- and energy -- to interact with these programs. Growing up, I was -- and I think you were -- at the mercy of local stations. Would they show a Twilight Zone or Space:1999 you had not seen yet?   

Remember when there were still three episodes of Star Trek you had never seen, and you scoured the listing in your paper or in TV Guide to look for them?

In hopes that they would, you would have either had to stay up till 3:00 am to watch, in some cases, or set your VCR.

Even in the DVD age, you had to shell out money for box sets, and seek out those box sets. Perhaps just to see six episodes of a 48 episode series.  

There was an act you had to take, to pursue knowledge, to pursue experience, and follow something you were interested in. It cost something to be a fan of a particular director, or program. And that cost is different than the cost of a "service" like Hulu, or Prime.

In the age of streaming, there is no hard work, and therefore no discovery. You are presented with a menu of possible programs, and you can select what's there.  You can't see what isn't there.

If you choose not to, a world of TV programs will be unavailable to you, that you never see. Since Millennium isn't up on Netflix or Amazon Prime, do curious viewers seek it out?

I try not to be a cranky old man, or curmudgeon, as you say, but two semesters teaching film to college students has deeply rattled me. 

These students have never seen a Hitchcock film. They never saw The Matrix, or Fight Club. They haven't seen Alien, even, or the original Planet of the Apes.  If it's not right in front of them, at the right time, they aren't going to see it.

It isn't that they aren't smart. They are smart. 

It is that they have no curiosity about the history and world of film or TV, beyond what Netflix can offer them, on a moment's menu scan.  They have never seen a silent film. They have never seen a black and white film, at all.  They select only the new and the popular, and I find this fact deeply disturbing.

In my class, I have begun assigning them reviews of older films (like The Gold Rush, and Sunset Boulevard), so they HAVE to watch something outside their limited experience, but this is not enough.  It's a mind-set the culture is battling. I wish they were curious about older shows, older films, but they aren't.

So we might be in a golden age of programs, but we are not in a golden age of viewers.  It may not be about the programs at all, but about how are culture is choosing these programs.

Regarding your final question -- serial vs. standalone storytelling -- my preferred mix is the one exemplified by The X-Files. I appreciate a level of serialized continuity, but too much is exhausting. 

Sometimes, I just want to be "one and done," for example (as in the case of The Twilight Zone, or Space:1999.)  I like arcs, but arcs that go on too long, or travel to improbable places (like the voluntary sacrifice of indoor plumbing, by a technological society on the new Battlestar Galactica) largely make me regret the journey, the time invested.

Don't forget to ask me your questions at Muirbusiness@yahoo.com

Ask JKM a Question: A Female Doctor Who?

A reader named Don writes:

“One other question for your "Ask JKM" segment”-- one I'm sure you've had in your inbox a few times the past 24 hours: what's your take on the casting of Jodie Whitaker as the first female Doctor?”

Don, I know you submitted a few questions, but I’m going to answer this one first, since it is so timely today. Also, as you say, my inbox has been filled with commentary on this particular question.

I had hoped to comment on the remarkable casting news yesterday, but I was blindsided by the passing of George A. Romero and Martin Landau, and am only now landing on my feet.

Excuse me, if, given the events of the last twenty fours, I am a little less diplomatic than I usually am in this response to those who have found cause to complain about the casting news.

My thoughts on Jodie Whitaker as the first female Doctor in Doctor Who?

It’s about bloody time!

Doctor Who has endured and even thrived, basically, for almost fifty-five years, by constantly re-inventing itself.

It has re-invented its style, its lead character, its universe, its hero’s background, and more. The Doctor is a character who has been old, young, Scottish (!), mischievous, deadpan, pompous, and comedic. The Doctor has had curly hair, dark hair, blond hair, and gray hair. The Doctor has been a renegade, on the run, a cosmic hobo, and even trapped on 20th century Earth for a time. The Doctor has fled Time Lords, worked with the Time Lords, and witnessed the death and rebirth of the Time Lords.

Change is, actually, the essence of this particular character, and that change is one significant factor that keeps the series fresh and intriguing.

I like and appreciate Peter Capaldi very much in the lead role, and feel he made the character his own. I feel he will be evaluated as a strong “Doctor” in terms of franchise history, but I have also read so many comments on the Internet about his era feeling old and tired. 

There was starting to become this overwhelming sense that even in a universe of constant change, Doctor Who was starting to feel old. It needed an injection of new blood that a standard regeneration might not provide.

So we now have the opportunity for new blood in the writing, behind the scenes, and in front of the cameras with Jodie Whitaker as well. The Doctor  shall be re-invented again, just as the character was reinvented after Hartnell, after Troughton, after Pertwee, and so forth. But for the first time, the Doctor will be a woman.

We could be on the cusp of something great, I feel.

And there is absolutely no plausible reason why the Doctor should not be female, given what we know of regeneration, and given the Doctor’s long history of constant change. We have the example, for instance, of the Master.

All the jokes about “bras in the TARDIS” are -- forgive me for being blunt -- stupid and juvenile, as are the by-now predictable cries of “SJW Doctor Who.”

The Doctor is a character whose very existence has been defined by elasticity. The cries of anguish over a female Doctor are sexism, pure and simple, and I hope that those making this complaint fulfill their written (online) promises to leave Doctor Who fandom at this juncture.

We won't let the door hit them on the way out.

And while they are making a hasty exit, they should also leave modern science fiction fandom, in general, if they have a problem with a female Doctor.

Now, I don’t like change just to be edgy, just for the sake of change, but change is “baked in” on Doctor Who, and this change is not out-of-line with what we have seen in the series, historically-speaking.

Those who can’t bring themselves to watch the adventures of a female Doctor can content themselves with 12 incarnations of white male Doctors, and just enjoy those, again and again, ad infinitum without ever having to come up for air, or face the fact of a changing, more just, more equal world in terms of on-screen representation. 

These snowflakes -- to coin a phrase -- belong in the past, in their own safe space of eternal reruns. Personally, I look forward to not hearing from them again. That would be such a relief.

For it has been a huge embarrassment, I feel, to see this sort of bad white male behavior crop up again and again in fandom, and be forced to defend it. 

I remember white men feeling wounded and betrayed by the presence of a strong woman, Furiosa, in Mad Max: Fury Road (2015), and wondering what on Earth they could be thinking…when they should have been rejoicing a marvelous addition to that cinematic universe.

Just weeks ago, I watched with dismay as Star Trek Discovery was attacked as Star Trek: SJW because it featured diversity in its leading cast, even though this diversity follows well the tradition of Deep Space Nine (1993-1999) and Voyager (1995-2001). Indeed, diversity is the essence of Star Trek, much as change is the essence of Doctor Who.

Look, I’m a straight white man, myself, and I just don’t understand at all how this kind of misogyny and racism can go hand-in-hand with a love of science fiction, and a love of Star Trek, or Doctor Who in particular. And I won’t defend or apologize for the behavior of those who feel the Doctor must always be a male, or that all starship captains should be white males simply because of “tradition.”

As I’ve written before, that’s a logical fallacy, the appeal to tradition. Just because something has always been one way, it must continue to be that way, the belief goes. That’s a bad reason to do something, in my book. Why?  Because over time, we learn, we get new facts...we grow.

I feel those who make this argument are not just misogynist and racist, but trapped in a perpetual victim mentality loop.

Why?

It’s obvious that there are plenty of white male heroes out there for these snowflakes to continue to enjoy.

They have names like Captain Kirk, Luke Skywalker, Harry Potter, Bilbo Baggins, James Bond, Dr. Strange, Iron Man, Thor, Captain America, Batman, Superman, Ethan Hunt, Jason Bourne, Hercules, Ant Man, Sherlock Holmes, Tarzan, Hawkeye, Wolverine, Peter Quill, Owen Grady, Rick Grimes, Jon Snow, Paul Atreides, John Connor, Jean Luc-Picard, Captain Archer, Buck Rogers, Flash Gordon, Mad Max, Mal Reynolds, etc., etc.

I just can’t feel sympathy for these complainers because one regeneration of a multi-incarnation hero -- the Doctor -- is going to be, perhaps for three years, a woman.

The fact that they are complaining about this -- one three year stint out of 54 years or so -- exposes the fact that they are total and utterly indulged, or to use a term they hate (but which is apt): privileged.  

If they don’t want to watch a female Doctor, then by all means, they should opt out and make a beeline for the safe spaces of reruns.

But they should know that they won’t be missed. 

And that time is rapidly passing them by. 

They are loud and vocal and obnoxious, and let's face it --  even threatening --  now, in 2017, but more and more people are seeing them for what they truly are: bullies. 

Their complaints are not about ethics in journalism. 

Their stance is not a a response to “social justice warriors.” 

These folks are gate-keeping, and arguing for a status quo that they perceive they benefit from. They represent a rigid, exclusive brand of close-mindedness that doesn't belong anywhere near the concept of science fiction, and a universe of endless possibilities.

I hope Jodie Whitaker does a great job as the new Doctor, and I recommend that she give Kate Mulgrew a call at her earliest opportunity to discuss what it is like to carry the torch for a science fiction brand (mistakenly) thought to be the exclusive terrain of white males.

It's going to be an interesting three years. But for every hater out there, I hope there will be a voice like mine too, urging on the new incarnation of Doctor, and helping to usher in a fantastic, exciting future.

Don’t forget to ask me your questions at: Muirbusiness@yahoo.com