alasdair has been picked to go on the Fourth Plinth! How exciting, eh? In addition, I also caught a bit of the live plinth coverage during the massive thunderstorm this afternoon, and witnessed a soaking wet woman up there, cheerfully improvising a rainhood out of a Tesco's carrier bag. I do believe that a certain quintessential Britishness was captured in those moments.
And now, your scheduled bout of Torchwood. Here are a few thoughts on Children of Earth: Day Two:
- As commenters yesterday reminded me, I totally forgot to consider the fate of Myfanwy the pterodactyl when the Hub went boom. So let's consider it now. Has she flapped off to safety somewhere? Will she swoop in to save the world later in the week, possibly with Janet the Weevil hanging off her leg, brandishing a machine gun and a toothy grin? Or has the mystery of what crispy barbecued pterodactyl wings taste like finally been resolved?
- Do you think that the Cardiff tourist office will have to build a replica pit of rubble by the Bay now, so all the Torchtourists can stand around and gawp into it?
- Gwen turns out to be very handy with a blunt object, and indeed a shooty object. I was also amused to see the scene that was the source of this publicity picture, which quivers on the border of genius and ridiculousness.
- Oh dear, PC Andy. Your quips may be amusing, but your cheeriness is not shared by the evil government agents who wish to shoot your friends. Never mind, perhaps you'll have a chance to redeem yourself plotwise in the next three days.
- "We're building something and we don't even know what it is." For a moment there, I had a wonderful image of government scientists whipping cream, stewing fruit and crushing three tons of digestive biscuits, and slowly coming to the realization that OMG THE ALIENS WANT CHEESECAKE. (Earth has the best desserts, you know it's a galactically acknowledged fact.)
- I noticed that Lois found some interesting info on the government database. Firstly, "Torchwood 2 in Glasgow is thought to have disbanded" (but has it really? I always wanted to hear more about that really strange Scottish man). And secondly, Torchwood 3 "is thought to be the last operational Torchwood post, although there are still some private acquisitions which Queen Victoria herself made that are unbeknownst to us". Hmm, might this be a clue to where Team Torchwood will regroup next, or is it just a big ol' herring of redness?
- Argh, it's Unexpected Skinless Jack! It's like the video for Rock DJ in reverse, only with more painful yelling and less rollerskating.
- It's Gwen and Rhys's Big Potato Truck Adventure, with added heartwarming confessions. "If it's a boy, Edward, after the king" - and if it's a girl, perhaps Désirée?
- "He pushed me too hard, he always did." / "You should have held on tighter." SUBTEXT: your other clue to quality drama (the first being FORESHADOWING, of course). This does seem explain quite a lot about Ianto, particularly why he's holding on so tightly now. Poor lamb.
- "WE. ARE. COMING. TOMORROW." Good grief, the BBC's trailing of its own shows is getting ridiculous now, innit? We're already watching, you don't have to encourage us to stay tuned in!
- Hmm, is Lois's invitation to join Torchwood anything like Astrid's invitation to travel in time, i.e. a ticket to certain DOOOOM? Time will tell. Nonetheless, the girl has L33T 5k1llz, especially in the field of condiment anticipation.
- The climactic build-up at the end was full of thrills and spills and general edge-of-the-seat excitement. Gwen and Rhys's Adventures in Undertaking! The glee-filled silliness of the forklist prison break! A bloody huge quarry - every show should have one! Top stuff.
- Ladies, gentlemen and variations thereupon, please raise your glass to NAKED JACK-ASS. At long bloody last, I may add. How long did that take? Only four years after the viewing public were first teased with the knowledge of its existence, by my reckoning. Still at least in the end, we get to see... well, the end.
- It seems as if the 456 have invented a cross between an expensive greenhouse, a sauna, and Antony Gormley's artwork "Blind Light". And with a box full of fog, the BBC may well have invented a way of showing aliens on TV without actually showing them, more to the money-saving point.
- "They're coming for Britain" But the question is, what have the British ever done to them? Clearly Mr Frobisher knows, and it's surely going to be the source of that most Britannic of tragedies: extreme social embarrassment. I imagine the 456 are going to turn up, give us a scorn-filled glare, and say "Tch" in a withering fashion. That'll show us.
- Didn't watch the trailer, so mum's the word. Nonetheless, can I just point out that if all the other bits of exploded Jack regenerate into another Jack (or indeed an army of Jacks) at any later point, I'm going to be forced to get the gin out, and I won't be asking for tonic...