Happy Anniversary, Dr. Who!

This blog post has a sound track. Or if you know this famous theme song, you can just hum while you read. 

          Play music.

 

Dr. Who, the iconic British sci-fi series, first aired on November 23rd, 1963. Yes, the day after the John F. Kennedy assassination. The first episode, called "The Mutants," featured the Daleks, those rascally cyborgs with a mission statement of universe-al domination and--oh, yes--extermination. 

The title character is a Time Lord, a humanoid alien who frolics through time in his Tardis, righting wrongs and trying to help those primitive humans, so susceptible to having their minds and bodies controlled by evil aliens with limited vocabularies. ("Are you my Mummy?") The Tardis, which on the outside resembles a British police box, is actually a sentient space ship that is much bigger on the inside. And the Doctor is armed with a sonic screwdriver, presumably for fixing whatever's broken around the cosmos. (Wish he'd start at my house.) Are you tracking so far?

The original Doctor was played by William Hartnell. There have been eleven Doctors, and a twelfth is now emerging. For the Doctor has a special talent. When fatally injured (or perhaps tired of doing the show), he can regenerate, taking on a new body, a new age, a new personality, and a new actor in the role.

Dr. Who originally aired from 1962 to 1989. Sadly, some of those early shows were destroyed or taped over, but bootleg copies occasionally resurface from yard sales, eBay, or the lesser moons of Saturn. The series was relaunched in 2005, and will presumably run until Daleks exterminate the studio where it's filmed. Guiness lists Dr. Who as the longest-running sci-fi series in the world.

For me, the charm of the early Who was in the marvelous idea of a Time Lord and in the cheesiness of the production. You sort of had the feeling you could film a show like that in your basement, using your relatives as actors. And that is not a put down. It was a great deal of fun. In later years, the cheesiness has been replaced with higher production values and better developed characters and stories, but they have kept the fun. 

This November marked the 50th anniversary of Dr. Who. The BBC celebrated with an anniversary special, "The Day of the Doctor," featuring three of the Doctors. Unfortunately, the day it aired, we had to make a run to the ER. But thanks to the time-freezing capabilities of my DVR, I hope to watch it this weekend.

Who is your favorite Doctor? So far my faves are Tom Baker (Doctor #4) and Matt Smith (Dr. #11). But I have to confess that I haven't seen every season--so that opinion could change as I fill in the gaps. 

Meanwhile, if you've got time to kill on a Saturday night, why not explore the meaning of life, love, time travel, and extra-terrestrials by tuning into BBC or Netflix for an episode or a marathon of the incomparable Dr. Who?

Monsters 101

Medusa, Daleks, Dementors--monsters! We love ‘em.

Seems like every culture throughout history has monsters. Big hairy, scary things that come from the sea, the deep caverns of earth, or outer space.  

A dragon from Thailand

Here are just a few examples that I hope will show the amazing scope and variety of big, bad bogeymen and behemoths.

Medusa

The face of Medusa, from Greek mythology, was hideous, and her hair was a tangle of venomous snakes. If you looked at her, you turned to stone. Now, this is an aberration worthy of the name monster. Bonus points for the turning-to-stone thing. (Incidentally, the hero Perseus beheaded the Medusa and used her head as a weapon, until he later gave it to Athena as a decoration for her shield. There's no accounting taste.)

Medusa, now marketing a unique
 line of hair care products

Iya

The storm-monster, Iya, is a character in Lakota mythology. He is a son of Inyan, the creator, and younger brother of Iktomi, the spider. He eats everything in his path—people, animals, trees, houses, whole villages—nothing is safe from his insatiable appetite. Faceless and formless, he is a tornado, a hurricane, a snowstorm, a rainstorm. He is thunder and lightning. He is wind and hail. Although he is dreaded, he is not seen as evil, since he is merely performing his assigned task. Iya lives under the water, and when he travels, he carries a tipi--painted with magical symbols--that holds all the storms like a quiver holds arrows.

Iya, blowing off steam

Shen

And the award for most artistic monster goes to. . . .

In Chinese mythology, the Shen is a shape-shifting clam-monster—a giant, pearl-producing clam who lives on the bottom of the sea. He belches bubbles that rise to the surface of the water and turn into mirages of stunning mansions and other architectural marvels. While this was doubtless disorienting to sailors, I’m afraid we have to give the Shen low marks in Scary, Ugly, and Dangerous. He might make the cover of Architectural Digest, but when it comes to scary, he is Frank Lloyd Wrong.

The Shen, Monster with an artistic flair

Bal-Bal

Bl-yuck! The Bal-Bal, of Philippine mythology, hangs out at funerals and graves the way Ralph and Potsie hang out at the malt shop. Basically, he steals corpses and eats them. Once Bal-Bal has eaten a body, he puts the trunk of a banana tree in the coffin to try to hide his evil deed. This sharp-clawed monster, as you might guess, has breath that could peel paint at fifty paces.

A "haunt" of the Bal-Bal

Nessie

The Loch Ness Monster, a cryptid said to inhabit Loch Ness in the Scottish Highlands, is the best known of all lake monsters. Is it a dragon? A sea serpent? A plesiosaur left over from the Days of the Dinos? There have been several sightings since the first in 1933, and even a few photographs, all disputed by the scientific community. Nessie is perhaps the most famous subject of cryptozoology, the study of animals whose existence has not been proven.

Nessie's first photo shoot

Zombies

[Cue creepy music.] Zombies are corpses that have been raised from the dead by some sort of sorcery. They are able to walk and talk, but they are controlled by a master. The Zombies have their roots in African and Haitian mythology, and have been greatly popularlized in horror films and lately, in humorous tv commercials.

Undead, over-acting

The Daleks

Although the British sci-fi series Dr. Who has its share of people-flashing-fangs and heads bobbing from serpent necks, it is the Daleks who pose the greatest threat to the Doctor, the human race, and the space-time continuum. The Daleks are cyborgs created by the scientist Davros, who merged a race of extraterrestrials with robotic shells. Purged of pity and compassion, the Daleks know only hatred. They look rather like giant salt and pepper shakers, and their whiney battle cry is “Ex-ter-mee-nate.”

Ex-ter-mee-nate!

So why do myth-makers invent monsters? Sea serpents and trolls and Cyclops and Balrogs and Dementors  and fire-breathing dragons and blood-sucking vampires and giant, radioactive grasshoppers?

I think it’s because we all have monsters to face in our lives, giants too big for us to slay in our own strength, forces beyond our control—atrocities committed by human monsters, diseases of the body and mind and sudden disasters and night terrors and death. Monsters are real, and the myth-makers put a face on them so that we can see them and understand them better.

Jabberwocky

One of the roots of monster means “to show.” We see this connection in the word demonstrate.  For ancient sea-faring people, sea monsters personified the very real dangers of stormy seas. In a more modern example, the dementors in the Harry Potter books suck all the joy out their surroundings. That sounds a lot like depression. Monsters in mythic tales show us our fears and challenge us to face them. To summon our courage. To use our wits. To seek Heaven's help. To conquer monsters with what we have at hand. 

We face monsters in stories so that we can better face the monsters in everyday life.

Bigfoot